Authors: Tabitha Rayne
Deborah couldn’t deny the heat pulsing between her legs like a hungry awakening and she clambered up too, clutching the blouse tucked in the governor’s waistband and pulling it out and swiftly over the woman’s head.
“My, my,” the governor breathed lustily. “You do take your research seriously, don’t you?”
Deborah stared at the lace-clad breasts on display before her. A beautiful sight—two creamy spheres totally held and contained. Oh, it made her hot to see the pucker and swell of the woman’s nipples beneath the fabric. Deborah sat back on her heels and pulled her tunic off to reveal her aroused and naked body. For a moment the two women just drank each other in, watching the effect each had on the other.
The governor’s chest and neck flushed a deep crimson and Deborah reached up, taking each cup of her bra in thumb and forefinger and pulling down. The governor’s breasts fell free over the lacy tops with a delightful bounce, and Deborah ran her thumbs over the puckering nubs. Her mouth watered and she leaned in to suckle the woman, who threw her head back, letting her hair cascade down her shoulders.
Deborah’s tongue swirled over the delicious flesh, alternating between angelic softness and wicked tight beads. It was so arousing; the smell of heat and lust drifted up from between her legs and Deborah snaked her fingers up under the woman’s skirt. The lace on her panties was damp already and Deborah hooked a finger inside to feel the slippery, fragrant lips yield to her touch. At once her middle finger slid into the soft, musky place and the governor shifted to allow more purchase. Deborah obliged and uncurled her index finger, pushing it up and into the woman. She was so wet and so hot. Deborah cupped her mound and began to pulse in and out, pulling the woman’s sweet arousal into her palm. Sucking noises intensified her excitement and Deborah fucked her harder, her thumb pressing onto her clit. The governor’s breathing was rapid and ragged and, with her other hand, Deborah gripped her hair, pulling her head back hard. She watched as the woman’s mouth opened in ecstatic agony as she came on Deborah’s hand.
“Yes. Yes, I do take my work seriously,” Deborah whispered into the governor’s ear then released her pussy and hair, climbing down from the desk, careful to protect the precious liquid in her hand.
She grabbed her tunic and knocked on the door for Jane to take her back to the lab.
Jane looked stricken as she followed a naked Deborah back down the corridor.
“You look angry. Did you get whipped for crashing in there like a mad thing?”
“No, I did not get whipped, Jane.” She shouldered her way past as Jane opened the lab.
“Really? I felt sure you’d be getting a whipping.”
“For God’s sake, corporal punishment is illegal. Nobody gets whipped these days. Here, help me put my robe on.” She passed the woman her tunic but Jane remained still, staring.
“Well, I don’t think anyone’s told
her
that. She loves whipping.”
Deborah dismissed Jane’s comment, taking the tunic back and pulling it on while she went to her bench. Carefully taking a swab, she removed the mixture of sweat and love juice from her palm. The sperm in the Petri dish had defrosted just enough to be receptive to the governor’s essence. Perfect timing.
With her breath held tight in her lungs, Deborah swept the pheromone-laden cotton bulb over the liquid and dived to her microscope.
There! She saw it. A tiny motion, like the electric twitch of a nerve, flicked in one or two of the tails. Deborah pressed her eye painfully into the eyepiece, frenetic with anticipation.
Nothing. Everything had slowed.
Fuck.
Sweat left over from the brief liaison suddenly cooled down her back and she shivered. It took all her strength not to shove the microscope and dish onto the floor. It didn’t escape her own notice that her temper was getting a little out of control. Sucking a long breath through flared nostrils, she exhaled through gritted teeth. The initial spark of movement was probably just her twitchy hand knocking the dish by mistake.
Deborah flopped down onto her one comfy chair and decided to let her blood pressure normalize before she drew her conclusions about the experiment. To have been so far away from the subject was ludicrous, and it wasn’t really a true experiment, more a chance encounter she’d taken hopeful advantage of.
She ran through the memory of her ‘chance encounter’ and blushed at how dominant she’d been. It had never happened that way before. Deborah had always been the one to be led into pleasure, not the other way around.
She looked around the lab self-consciously before letting out a chuckle. A dominatrix. She’d never, ever thought of herself in that way, but it had been a long time since she’d felt anything close to the arousal she’d felt when she’d grasped the governor’s hair and pulled her head back.
Mirroring the action, she let her head fall onto the headrest of the chair and brought the memory of her superior’s exposed, fluttering neck to her mind. So vulnerable. So sexy. It was obvious the governor had loved every second. It must be very erotic to let someone you are supposed to be in charge of take you over and expose the chinks in your armor.
The bubbling, excited feeling pooled between Deborah’s thighs and her cheeks heated. She reached down to her sex but stopped abruptly as the door opened and Jane came storming in.
“Time for lunch,” she announced in her abrupt yet jolly way. “You’re allowed extra pudding. You must have been following your orders or something.”
The innocent comment seemed plausible enough, but Deborah caught a wicked glint in Jane’s eyes as she pulled her tunic back over down her knees.
Chapter 21
“Come. They’re waiting.” The cold tone of Katja’s voice did little to disguise the heat from the seething fire of anger that lay just beneath it. With barely a glance at Marcus, she turned and left his cell, just jamming her heel in the door to hold it open for him.
He’d fretted most of the night about his broken alliance with this woman.
“Katja,” he said softly, his voice quavering at the thought of losing her help completely. “I’m sorry. Please don’t turn your back on me.” He watched through the sliver of doorway as her shoulders sagged and she turned to peer back in the room. “Why are you so angry with me?”
Slowly, the door opened and Katja came into the cell and leaned against the wall. “I’m sorry too. I’m angry, but not with you. Well, kind of with you.”
“Why? Tell me.”
Katja paused and stared at him, her eyes blazing with hurt and fury.
“It’s just—” She managed to control her voice and keep it low and steady. “You remind me so much of him. If you can get out of this place and find your love, then it gives me the belief that he can too. If you are just a dreamer, then my hopes are dashed. You, and what you do, keep them alive.”
“Oh.” Marcus’s head dropped. He was about to apologize but something welled in his chest. “But I am going to escape,” he said with sudden, renewed determination. His tone made him believe it, and he could see from the shift in Katja’s body language that she did too. She smiled in the warm way he’d become used to and reached into her top.
“Good,” she said in a determined voice. “Read this. I managed to steal it from one of your clients’ bags while you were fucking yesterday.”
Marcus shuddered slightly at her words but his mouth fell open as she threw him a page torn out of a newspaper. The headlines sent horror and joy pulsing through his veins.
“
Notorious science fiend charged with crimes against humanity.
” He felt sick as he saw his lover’s name in cheap black ink, smudged by the fingertips from those who had read all the lies.
He scanned the columns, trying not to take in the words about fire setting and sabotage and life imprisonment. The paper trembled in his grip, and Katja impatiently pointed at a picture of a grotesque concrete prison.
“Is that where she is?”
“Yes.”
“Is it far away?”
“Yes.”
They fell into silence, and Marcus felt suspended somewhere between euphoria and horror. Notorious. They had used Deborah as a scapegoat. She would be in high security with no chance of escape, he felt convinced of that, but a tiny piece of his heart jumped and leaped for joy. He knew where she was.
“I’m leaving tonight.”
“I thought you might.” Katja smiled from ear to ear and her chest rose.
Marcus suddenly understood fully why his escape was so important to her. It was all about belief. To know there was fight still left in the world kept her going.
“Come with me,” he said on impulse, and her face paled.
“I can’t,” she said quickly. “I’ve told you before, details about males are so secret, I’d never find out where he is, but there will be lists somewhere he can access about my whereabouts. I have to stay put. I have to wait for him. It’s my only way.”
Marcus nodded. “Listen, I can’t see any more of those women. Not now. Can you say I’m sick?”
Katja nodded with what looked like relief washing over her face. He thought about what it must mean for her to suspect that her lover was either dead or being made to service beautiful, rich women for survival. He wondered if Deborah felt the same.
He’d assumed the physical attention he’d lavished so willingly on these women wouldn’t induce any jealousy as it was all to conjure up ultimate unity—and his conscience had been very clear on that. But if it were the other way around, would he be so willing to believe that? Would he be happy to see his Deborah being ravished and fucked by another man while she spilled her soul into another plane?
Now that there were cracks opening up in his belief in the existence of the meeting point, he suspected that envy would surface. And rightly so. The thoughts he was exploring were whipping him into a frenzy of invented jealousy and he had a sudden desperation to hold her and have her. The reality of his situation came crashing in on him. What the hell had he been doing for all these months?
Anger, frustration, and regret coursed through him and he stood up, grabbing the sheets and blankets from his bed and flinging them at the wall. He wanted to destroy this whole fucking place. Blood pulsed hard in his head and he felt like the room was getting smaller. He growled and shrieked, balling his fists and making ready to punch and smash the place to pieces, stopping just short with every strike. He couldn’t jeopardize things now by destroying his room and being sent to the head guard. Sinking onto the single armchair, he made do with grabbing the hair at his temples and driving his head between his knees. Saliva slipped out through his gnashing teeth and his breathing rasped. Deep in his psyche he was glad of this rage. It had been lacking for too long.
* * * *
“Ah, back so soon?” The governor cocked an eyebrow at Deborah’s unexpected entry.
“Yes, I’m back.” Deborah stalked across the room and behind the desk where the governor sat. “Do you think I’m stupid?” She glared as menacingly as she could at the governor.
“Absolutely not.” The woman seemed genuinely taken aback.
“Then why are you giving me dead samples?” Her heart was thumping in her chest so hard that she could feel the blood shooting through her veins at high pressure right to her crotch. What was it with this woman? She wasn’t that sexy or fantastic-looking. Was it her power?
All Deborah knew was that the lust she felt in the governor’s presence blocked out all rational behavior. Her pussy twitched with prickling arousal.
Deborah straddled the woman on her plush antique chair and grabbed her hair in a bunch at the nape of her neck. Pulling her head back, she leaned in close, inhaling the fear and excitement that was rising in the woman. She pulled harder and twisted until the governor cried out, breathing hard with a half-smile on her face. Her hands gripped the sides of the chair and Deborah ground herself onto the woman’s thighs, taking her succulent lips in hers as she did so. She tasted so hot and so horny as she responded with her mouth and tongue. It was ferocious, this need in them. Deborah wanted to own this woman, take her.
She kissed the governor ferociously, arching and humping her body like a feral sex fiend. With one hand still controlling the woman’s head, she reached up under her blouse and grabbed at her breast. A groan left her throat, and Deborah ground her hips and mound with new vigor. Heat mounted and rose between them, and the governor squirmed and writhed on the chair, matching Deborah’s movements thrust for thrust. Her dampening tunic bundled and hitched between her thighs, causing friction which resonated right into her center. The welling and listing inside her abdomen rose and, with a peak and slump, she came onto the governor’s lap. By the quivering going on underneath her, she could tell the governor had come too.
“Naughty, naughty,” Deborah said, releasing her captive’s hair and clambering off her. She righted her tunic and turned to leave.
“Listen, about your samples…” the governor said.
“Never mind,” Deborah snapped without turning to look at her. “Just send me my goddamn assistant.”
Deborah asked Jane to take her straight back to her cell. Lying in the fading afternoon light, she tried to assess her situation with a clear head. The initial enthusiasm for this new streak of research had waned, along with her trust of the governor. She’d been duped into thinking she could make a difference, again.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She had to get out of there, otherwise she’d go mad. Why hadn’t Marcus come for her? More lies.
Deborah let herself drip into a melancholic haze of self-pity. She couldn’t do it all herself. She couldn’t find a fucking cure for this toxin-induced male infertility single-handed. It was ludicrous. She felt like a total fool and she couldn’t understand what the governor’s motivation was to make her believe this was the case. It was all very odd. The only way it made sense was if the governor’s story was true and she
was
relying on Deborah and her research.
Fuck!
One thing was true, no matter how she thought it through—the woman did something to her. Something animalistic, dark, and exciting. Deborah’s thighs were still damp and raw where her orgasm had flooded through her bunched-up tunic and onto the governor. It was strange...for all the feral magnetism the encounters had, Deborah had never felt herself slip into the zone of ultimate unity. Even that was eluding her now. Moments alone with just the book yielded no spiritual spiraling. She was completely lost and alone. If only he would come for her.