Remember me yet?
Riddick's POV
The stink of fear is in the air. He wakes to the feel of her tensing. When one arm reaches up and across to cover a section of her shoulder, he raises an eyebrow. That was a defensive action if he'd ever seen one.
Now she starts to struggle and lets out whimpers, and screams of pain and terror. He growls and pulls her closer, thinking to comfort to her.
She only struggles harder and screams louder. He grimly hangs on, wishing he hadn't given the man a quick death.
When her fist connects with his eye, he lets out a grunt of surprise. She freezes before clenching her thighs together tightly.
The taunt skin reveals scars, deep old scars. He reaches out a hand and traces them with a feather light touch.
Jack's POV
What's he playing at? NO MAN looks at these scars without trying to have a go on me. The least I can hope for is that he'll just kill me instead of adding to those scars.
Riddick's POV
Damn those scars make her alluring.
Down!
His gaze travels down her back, very slowly as he takes in the revealed scars. His hand follows them to her lower back.
He feels her shudder. Her thigh muscles tighten convulsively.
Suddenly he feels ill. Some person or people had given these to her and raped her. The fear in her smell makes more sense now.
"Who?" he rasps.
"Merc." She mutters, still not uncurling.
His hand slips back up to her neck and begins to work on the muscles there.
There's lots of sexual tension in her.
He blinks. Well waddya know the massage class he'd taken for the easy 'A' was actually helpful.
His other hand joins the first, and she slowly relaxes. The scars disappear as she loosens up.
The animal in him starts to purr at the intimacy that she was letting him get to. It begins to urge him to take her.
Her scent wasn't helping. With the relaxation of her thighs, her arousal becomes prominent. He quells his animal with difficulty.
One hand begins to wonder the contours of her back while the other seductively works its way into her hair.
She moans and he fights to keep himself from swelling. She'd surely notice if something began to poke her in the thigh.
Jack's POV
I know there's an angle, but I can't figure it out. I know that most men would have already taken me, but Richard B. Riddick is far from an ordinary man.
A scene rises in front of my face.
It's of Riddick, and he's throwing a hammer head to the ground. His goggles are down, and he looks angry.
"Did not know who they were fucking with," he announces.
I toss my head and it's gone, but it slots itself into my memories.
I hear a muffled sound of disappointment. I dimly remember him winding a hand in my hair, so my little head movement must have moved it. …
…Pity.
He's whispering in my ear now. I don't know what, hell for all I know it could have been how he's going to kill me. But for now, I am content to listen to his rumble as his hand wonders over my back.
Down! Daaaaaaaaamn hormones. Damn them. Oh look, they finally do something useful and knock me out. Damn hormones.
Riddick's POV
He bends his head and whispers a mantra into her ear.
Mine. You're mine. I'm not letting you go. Mine. My girl. My Jack. My Jackie. My Jackie girl. Mine. Not sharing, you're all mine.
She was his, he thought with finality. This was non-negotiable. If Imam wanted to see her, one of them could visit.
But Jack stayed with him. And he'd butcher the person who didn't comprehend this.