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This is 7k words in length and 21 doc pages long, effectively doubling the size of the entire story. Hope it satisfies and please forgive any grammar mistakes that slipped through, I have to proofread myself.

Anyone younger than 14-16 be advised that this chapter contains sexual themes and acts sexual in nature.

v 1.0

Chapter 4: And New Sensations

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Things have become a lot more pleasant for Zoe, now that she was fairly certain the Castaway wasn't out for her blood. It still stressed her out, but at least now she could get a restful night of sleep as opposed to the tossing and turning of before, where constant thoughts or nightmares of her dark future played out in her head.

She considered that he wasn't the worst kind of captor to have. She could only imagine what some other people might do with that kind of power. She wasn't unfamiliar with the selfish cruelty many of Palpagos' inhabitants could exhibit, especially when unbound by the 'rules' of the PIDF.

Taking the opportunity for introspection, Zoe wasn't…inarguably opposed to the idea. Of having a friend that is. But her only experience with any kind of bond similar to that was with Grizzbolt, and the steps leading up to that were vastly different than this. She found she wasn't quite certain how normal human friends were made either, but she would bet money it doesn't involve holding a gun to their head and shoving them in a pal sphere.

Maybe she should ask to borrow that 'For Dummies' guide of his, if it actually exists.

Their little home had expanded a little bit now, having access to metal ingots and nails due to the completed furnace. It was still the same wooden structure and minimalistic garden it had been, but they recently added a wheat farm and a crusher mill. There was even a ranch containing a Lamball and Chicapee. And damn it if the Castaway's new metal armor didn't strike an impressive figure. It suited him far more than the leather he had before. Almost regal looking, it made her own stylish clothes look silly and inadequate. She never worried about defense before.

He's been letting that stupid Lifmunk out more recently as a guard. Not to hold her in or anything. She'd tried escaping before, it didn't work. Some invisible force stops her from leaving the area.

Sometimes he would go out and she would hear the sound of gunfire, but the Castaway would always return looking no different than when he left. Although the stockpile of ammo he's been accumulating was pretty damning evidence of who he was fighting. Her underlings. The thought didn't seem to bother as much as Zoe thought it should. She doubted they were even looking for her, probably just prowling the area for their next bounty.

The frequency of those hunts has been dropping too. Only a matter of time before their presence in the area is wiped out. He could beat her, no chance in hell they could beat him. At least she understands his financing a bit. She could approve of his resourceful nature if anything.

He was a survivor.

The concept caused an uncomfortably hot tingle to bloom in her lower stomach.

Whenever he demonstrated physical abilities, such as climbing the roof to redesign and swinging a pickaxe at the miniature quarry they made ('or tossing her in the pond like a sack of potatoes', her mind thought snidely), she would see him perform almost effortlessly, with a seemingly never-ending supply of stamina. His whole body was deceptively corded with strength.

She could only imagine what kind of trials or training or years he needed to achieve such a thing

Zoe wished she had such abilities. But even with all the clout and authority she used to wield, she doubted she could even approach that level of raw finesse. Grizzbolt was always her source of power, and even that strength was evidently nothing in the face of the Castaway.

She wondered how he would fare against stronger foes than herself. Maybe that's why he lived in the southern region, to build up his resources to venture deeper into the savage lands around them. She would like to see that. She never saw much of the world beyond her tower and the forest.

The burning feeling intensified.

It disturbed her a bit, so Zoe focused on the task at hand, striking the object in front of her with well-placed hammer blows. They were building a hot spring. A small one thankfully, but a bit larger than she had worked with before. Where he got the materials or schematics to make it she didn't know, but he left it up to her to finish it. What did they need this for? The few pals he seemed to have (all liberated from her cronies, she learned) never seemed particularly overworked, in fact they mostly just slept all day. Cheeky fuckers made sure she did all the work.

'I could probably finish this tonight,' she thinks. It's been an arduous process, taking more time and effort than any previous attempts. The Castaway seemed confident she could accomplish this though. But she knew what pushing herself too far and fast would do to her sanity and body, and her captor was rather stern when it came to her health. So she stopped for the moment, finally noticing another, more familiar feeling a bit higher up. Her stomach growled.

It was around lunchtime, she guessed by the position of the sun overhead

Fortunately, their hard work paid off, because there was a pile of fresh juicy berries practically calling her name. She was a bit more refined than the average pal though, so she resisted the urge to immediately stuff her face, instead plucking a group of berries and carrying it over to the nearby table (she built that too).

As she rested. She pondered what the Castaway was busy with. He had been gone for some time, which normally wasn't concerning in and of itself. However, he had been gone far longer than he usually was. Two nights had come and gone and he hadn't returned. Not that she thought he couldn't handle himself, but she would be extremely miffed if he just decided to up and leave her here after all. That option was still on the table since she still hadn't quite got a read on his abstract personality. Maybe he didn't like the idea of spending more time or resources on her any longer.

She has been awfully reliant on others to support her, she mused. Maybe she was actually that pitiful.

It was then that a recognizable figure appeared from down the road, coming from the dilapidated temple below the plateau. She saw him make his way upwards at a leisurely pace, or at least as leisurely as one can be when riding a Direhowl. Probably had quite the haul this time, judging by the bulging satchels hanging off him and the comically agonized expression on the pal as its legs shook. The Castaway finally stopped when he reached her not-so-new home, dismounting and returning the Direhowl in the same fluid motion.

He noticed her sitting down with her lunch consisting of berries and smiled before he too approached the feed bin and sat down across from her. He dropped his packs behind him with a heavy thud and dug his hands into one of the smaller satchels before producing a loaf of bread and 2 bottles of milk. Zoe gleamed at the bounty, struggling to remember the last time she had actually drunk something besides basic water. Usually, they didn't keep the bovine pal that produced it long enough to pile up a supply, and the stock they did have was often traded for additional food.

He saw her stare and quickly offered her one, splitting the bread in half as well. While berries are surprisingly tasty when you grow them yourself, diversity is the essence of fine cuisine. Although the notion of calling bread and milk fine dining made her cough out a laugh. The Castaway seemed confused but did not question her reaction.

They ate in silence like they usually did, the sun overhead providing a pleasant warmth that was common to this region of the islands. Zoe thought she was even gaining a tiny smidge of color to normally pale skin, though that could just be her imagination. In retrospect, years stuck up in a moonlit tower probably wasn't healthy. Maybe this was doing some good for her.

She downed the milk much too fast because before the Castaway had even taken a sip of his bottle, hers was already emptied. He raised his eyebrows at her in a bewildered manner. She smiled sheepishly, she couldn't help it.

So much for 'refined.'

His perplexed look remained as he slowly slid his milk bottle over to her side. She accepted it gratefully, taking it much slower this time. He almost seemed disappointed at that. The thought was funny.

"So what did you bring?" she asked, making light conversation even though she knew it would most likely be heavily one-sided. She peered around him, trying to see the contents of the nearest bag. He leaned too, to block her view. She straightened up and gave him an incredulous look.

What, he's hiding things now? She said as much out loud.

He raised his finger to his lips, which she interpreted as a sign for 'secret'.

'Fine,' Zoe groaned internally, 'keep your secrets.' Instead, it seemed his attention was now directed behind her. Ah yes, the hot spring. She thought she had done pretty good work so far if she did say so herself. Did he expect it to be complete already? Apparently so, because he stood up and walked towards it, crooking his finger at her to follow. She pouted briefly before joining him.

Watching the Castaway work was like magic, his hands weaving perfectly between placement and tool usage with near-perfect efficiency. She tried to emulate him. Her arms began to ache and sweat dotted her forehead, quickly spreading to the rest of her body just trying to maintain a fraction of his pace. She could feel her proficiency improving the more she did this. Things would be so much quicker if he did this all the time for her. Working together, they managed to set the last stonework in place in almost under an hour.

Zoe fell backwards onto the yielding dirt, chest rising and falling from exertion, clothes sticking to her skin from dampness. The Castaway merely rubbed his brow with a glove, only the barest slick of sweat dotting his features before it was wiped away. Meanwhile, Zoe looked like she had run a marathon, splayed out on the ground. She felt sore. He crossed his arms briefly at the state she was in, before pulling out a pal sphere. A simple Pengullet emerged, looking at its master before it immediately began spewing fresh water into the newly built basin. The heated base quickly caused steam to rise from its new contents. In no time at all, the pal's job was finished. It began quaking joyfully, before its excitement faded and it seemed to head for a nearby pal bed, its empty little mind thinking of nothing.

Zoe rested an arm over her eyes to block the sun as she tried to regain her breath and the energy to rise. After a few moments, she felt a shadow fall on her, so she shifted her arm to peer at the man currently standing over her with a thoughtful look. It seemed the Castaway knew what to do with her. He lowered his hand to her expectantly. She sighed and reached up for it, before she was pulled up by him with jarring force, enough to disorientate her. He didn't seem to notice.

There was a towel rack next to the hot spring now, she hadn't heard him construct it. He beamed at her proudly, extending his hand to their new creation. She gave him a weary thumbs up, mocking his silent modus operandi. He put a hand on his hip in exasperation, before shrugging. She could really use a nap. She felt the ache in her bones. This time he did seem to take note of unsteady countenance, before nodding in understanding.

And then, without the slightest bit of hesitation or care in the world, he disrobed, removing his armor and underclothes in two swift motions.

Her hands flew up to cover her wide magenta eyes instinctively, a small noise escaping her as she took a step back in shock. Drawing a towel from the rack, the Castaway neatly wrapped it around his hips before he descended into the hot bath in front of him. Zoe found she had trouble moving away, instead sneaking a glance between her fingers trying to figure out what the hell was going on in his head. She saw him submerge himself, the waterline approaching the lower portion of his midsection. He took a deep breath, before exhaling slowly, resting his eyes on her as a smile graced his features. He tapped the water next to him in open invitation,

Zoe's face was hot. He expected her to strip right now, in front of him!? Her arms crossed over her chest defensively, angling herself away from him.

"I can't go in there!" she practically squeaked. She was not mentally prepared for this kind of thing.

The Castaway, moronic as ever, didn't seem to recognize the cause of her distress and just gave her a bewildered expression of his, looking like he was about to get out to carry her in. Did this guy even have an ounce of shame? She wasn't refusing because she was injured! "S-Stop! Don't come over here!" Zoe shot her palms out in front of her, thankfully causing him to pause before he could stand up. He leaned back into the water but now his arms were crossed, that stern continuance back on his face, the same one he always gave her when he thought she was being petulant.

And boy did that make her feel indignant. She knew why he was giving her that look, of course. Her health was imperative to him for some reason. And Zoe certainly knew the benefits a hot spring had on a weary body. Still, it did rub her the wrong way he made it seem like SHE was the problem and not his blatant lack of modesty. He probably thought she was being childish.

True they were both adults, and although she couldn't guess his age, she was certain she was the junior between them. She was only about 19 after all, if some of the older thugs could be trusted with math and counting in lieu of seasonal tracking. She felt they were mostly right though, even if they distasted it.

The thought caused her to frown. Even while she was the boss, and with Grizzbolt's support, there were still many in the senior leadership of the Rayne Syndicate who treated her like some snot-nosed kid who didn't know any better, constantly criticizing her decisions with only the bare minimum amount of respect for it to be considered deferring of her position. And there was the Castaway, looking at her like she didn't know any better, a child throwing a tantrum. Familiar faces overlaid next to his. All with that insufferable expression of implied inferiority.

She suddenly wanted very much to throw that notion back at him. Not for his benefit but for hers. Standing tall and steeling her resolve she made her decision. She was NOT their lesser!

"I'll do it myself! Just give me a 'sec…" she grumbled exasperatedly, shrugging her shoulders out of her half-coat before moving to remove her footwear. It took a bit longer due to the complexity of the straps, but hey they looked good. She also unclipped her belt and discarded her decorative skirt. Left only in her tiny shirt and spandex shorts, she reached up to the crop top before she glanced up, noticing the Castaway's keen attentiveness.

The idea that she was being watched made Zoe falter, nerves failing her as old insecurities reared their ugly head. Her fingers hesitated at the bottom rim. He saw her hesitation and that look was back. Shyness clashed with defiance. Defiance won. She resolved herself.

"Close your eyes!" she squawked. He raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

"I'm not going to do this while you're staring at me like a dumb Lambell!"

Oh, her sass was back! She was wondering where that went. It must be a sign that she's being confident. Or at least she hoped so.

The Castaway rolled his eyes before leaning his head back and closing them, seemingly not understanding her request but respecting her wishes anyway despite the fact. Zoe felt that was a little touching at least, that he still allowed her this. If he had wanted to abuse their relationship and force her actions, he could have easily done so already without her resistance. The Pal sphere is absolute.

Letting out a breath of relief, she finally pulled her top off, taking her bra with it. She shimmied out of her shorts and undergarments too, leaving her clothes in a messy pile on the ground next to his. She was bare for only a moment before she managed to wrap a towel around her slender body, covering herself. His eyes were still closed and facing away from her. Zoe was thankful. With newfound momentum, and with pride she didn't know she still had, she boldly walked forward, her feet landing on the slick edge of the hot spring. It was just as she was about to enter when the universe decided she was having too much success. The light-headedness from earlier came back, making her head go numb and causing her to lose her balance.

Her feet slipped out from under her sideways.

She let out a quiet, almost silent gasp, not having time to catch herself or yell before she hit her head on the stone. Or at least she would have if the Castaway, moving like greased lightning, hadn't caught her, one hand on her upper arms and the other on her right thigh. He must have heard that somehow. Was he peeking? She let out a huff of fear as her senses came back, looking behind her at the less-than-desirable distance between her skull and the stone, having no trouble guessing who would win in that matchup. Ok, maybe she had pushed herself a tad.

The Castaway moved back, carefully guiding her to a spot adjacent to him with a firm but gentle hold. He let go of her arm as she settled in, leaning back to his original spot.

Zoe glanced at him before looking to the side, bashful.

"Thanks.." she managed to get out.

The soothing effects of the hot spring were immediately apparent. The aches she was feeling were slowly but surely disappearing, along with the loafy feeling she hadn't realized was affecting her head. She too took a deep breath, before letting it out in a long-drawn-out exhale. Zoe chose this moment to assess her captor.

As she thought, he was deceptively strong. He was not the huge hulking mass that was the Crushers, nor did he have the tall burly stature of the PIDF officers as one might expect. Oh, he was fit, Zoe acknowledged, the muscle was there. But it was nowhere near the level she thought he would need to do what he does. He was larger than she was by a fair margin, but that was typically the case for her when it came to men. Zoe supposed she was pretty small in comparison, all things considered. They could both fit comfortably in the spring at the same time. His face wasn't too bad looking either. Almost handsome. But she felt it would be a struggle to pick it out in a crowd. She noticed he was looking at her as well.

She followed his gaze to his arm, tracing down the modestly defined appendage into the steamy water to rest on his hand.

Which was still on her bare thigh, just above the knee.

Zoe's breath caught in her throat, her mind going into a fuzzy mess as it turned itself over, the lace he was touching her practically sparking. She didn't need to be held anymore, she wasn't going to slip again while sitting! She should remove it, it would be simple. Just tell him to pick up his hand and set it aside, she rationalized. That's what she'll do. Her mouth opened to protest.

The Castaway's fingers casually pulled upwards toward his palm, the minuscule ridges of his fingerprint gliding lightly across the soft and smooth skin beneath them like a feather. Zoe gasped, pink lips peeled open in unrestricted surprise. Every hair on her body stood on end while Goosebumps erupted along her arms. Her body jumped reflexively, her legs locking tight around his digits.

He froze. He was watching her face now, alert and attentive, before scanning the rest of her, fascinated by how her body reacted to his touch. He didn't try to release his trapped hand, seemingly content to observe. Or perhaps he was concerned. Her breath was starting to come out heavy.

Through the adrenaline and despite the circumstances, Zoe thought he looked like he had never felt another person's bare skin before. Considering his nature, and evidently fucked-up way of thinking, Zoe realized that could very well be the case. His hand felt like a sauna where it touched her, somehow hotter than the water they were in.

The burning feeling in her lower stomach was back too.

She shuddered a few breaths, trying to organize her thoughts past the smoky haze and thumping heart. He was touching her. He was touching her in a place way out of her comfort zone, in a situation way too embarrassing, and invoking way too many feelings she didn't understand. She didn't know what to do. Apparently he didn't either. They stayed like that for a minute, locked together in an awkward embrace. Her shoulders were shaking. His expression shifted from curiosity to a pained grimace, seeming to note the discomfort he was causing her. His hand shifted slightly, his movements seeming uncertain. Flames of pleasure licked up her leg like a serpent. A low sound emerged from her lips as a result.

Zoe felt his body shift, preparing to slide away from her, and a compulsion pulled itself out of her unexpectedly before she could stop it.

"Wait," she breathed in a hushed tone, her hands clutching onto his forearm. When did she do that? "Just…wait a moment…" her chest rose and fell with her air intake. The Castaway didn't know what to make of her behavior but he acquiesced, holding absolutely still. She tried to get her breathing under control.

The burning tingle didn't leave. If anything it became hotter, more demanding.

The Castaway watched her closely, more than ever trying to discern what she was thinking. She doesn't think he could. Zoe certainly didn't, and they were her thoughts.

With great effort, she managed to make herself relax, letting the hot spring's effect soothe her body in the process. Her breath came out easier and she released the pressure on her legs, then slowly, very slowly, began inching her legs apart from their locked position. She glanced at his face, the calculating expression telling her he was choosing his next move carefully. His thumb brushed her knee gently, before his hand slid upwards fractionally, cautiously. A hot shiver ran up and down her leg but Zoe forced herself to keep it open, instead widening her knees another inch to provide him with better access.

He seemed encouraged by her permission, the next touch sliding further up, his fingers squeezing her thigh experimentally. Her breath came out in a hot puff. That fascinated look in his eyes was back, along with something else she couldn't quite make out. Squeezing her pink orbs shut, she instead focused on the feeling, unable to keep looking with her sight. Her lower body was scorching and her chest felt tight.

The Castaway's hand reached the towel covering her body, the hem bunched up around the top of her thigh. He paused briefly, gaze darting between her face and her body, before his finger slid underneath it, feeling the supple flesh of her inner thigh. Zoe's back arched involuntarily. His fingers stayed there for a time, his hand gently caressing her in a comforting manner.

Then, at last, he moved his hand just past the junction of her legs and hips. His fingers daintily brushed the spot between the apex of her thighs.

A throaty moan escaped her, the first in her life, and her nails dug into his arm sharply with her knees slamming shut once again. The action seemed to spook both of them because he immediately tried to retract his hand. But with her holding on to him like her life depended on it, the Castaway ended up bringing her entire body with him. Which is how they ended up like this, her smaller frame straddling his waist with both hands grasping his shoulders, while his hand was locked firmly on her left hip, the other sliding up the back of her right leg for balance, going under the towel and unintentionally cupping her shapely rear.

They both froze, a ringing appearing in Zoe's ears as the burning feeling spiked, spreading further south. The Castaway's eyes were startled, darting between her face and her hip rapidly with a look of panic and genuine concern. He swallowed uncertainty, discomfort evident in his features, not too contrasting with her own big doe-eyed expression.

He didn't advance his position, seemingly at a loss. And now he was looking at HER for guidance like he was waiting for Zoe to choose their next step. It made the back of her throat hurt to see him like that.

He cared too much for her, she decided. Far more than she deserved.

So instead of immediately jumping back or screaming, she pushed her body forward, smooshing her breasts between their chests while rolling her hips back, making his hand squeeze her ass more firmly. His eyes were laser-focused on hers as she tilted her head up towards him, meeting his bright gaze.

"Please…" Zoe somehow managed, "You don't have to stop…"

GOD that sounded needy. She felt her face heat up even more at the desperation in her voice.

Through the steamy haze, she saw an amalgamation of emotions fly across his face then, but she didn't detect even a hint of malice or greed or even lust. But she did see eagerness and desire. Desire…and an all-consuming hunger for something that left her breathless. Her thighs began to quiver with the feeling she finally identified as arousal as the hand on her butt pushed her up, letting her balance her knees on either side of him as he leaned back a bit more, positioning her so his head was just below hers to give Zoe the uppermost position.

The little bit of control he gave her unprompted warmed her heart, truly vindicating the thoughts she'd been harboring as of late. The hold he had over here became a bit more comforting, that such a powerful yet considerate man now claimed her. She knew with any other person, she would most definitely NOT be given the same courtesy. She would most likely be crushed beneath them, helpless and begging, worthless as the dirt they probably thought her to be.

Although she wasn't expecting it to be quite like this, maybe he really did just want to seek simple companionship.

She finds the whole situation ridiculous. Silly even. For sure, extremely lame. Only a dummy could think of it.

It was Relatable.

The surging flame of defiance in her soul, the one she had cultivated and guarded all her time captured, spluttered out at that realization, being replaced by a warm, fuzzy feeling, and the same burning sensation emanating from between her legs.

Still, Zoe found herself hesitating. She'd only ever read novels about this kind of thing and heard the stories some of the more boastful members of the syndicate liked to brag about. She always figured they were making it up, there were so few women on the island as it was. So despite the control the Castaway has given her, Zoe is unsure how to proceed from here. Just envisioning it makes her body freeze up in anxiety.

Thankfully, her companion did not have the same sense of modesty that she did. While she was distracted by her thoughts, the hand on her hip slid up her waist, the simple towel providing a very thin buffer. His light touch glided past the side of her breast, instead going even further upwards past her collarbone and resting gingerly on her cheekbone, tilting her head slightly to the side. His other hand was still groping her butt underneath the towel despite the fact he no longer needed it there to balance her. He leaned forward, lightly grazing his lips along the edge of her jawline. He stopped at the crook of her neck and gently sucked.

Lighting bolts of pleasure coursed down her spine, causing her to gasp loudly and wrap her arms around his neck, moving her hands past his shoulders to get even closer to him. The Castaway seemed pleased at her reaction and rewarded her by moving at a leisurely pace across the side of her pale neck. The hand holding her cheek removed itself, being replaced with a hand on her thigh seeking to continue its previous journey. She tightened her hold in anticipation, the placement of his torso preventing her knees from closing this time. Like before, his surprisingly gentle fingers trailed their way back up her inner thigh, taking the time to squeeze and rub supple flesh there. Impatience mixed with anticipation and she rotated her waist slightly in frustration.

They crept past her hip joint again, pausing briefly before ascending once more. Sparks of intense pleasure radiated from between her legs, making her body jump just like before, drawing a gasp from her mouth. But the hand on her ass held her securely this time, holding her in place. His fingers rubbed gently, touching her intimately, careful to be extra delicate. The sparks continued to fly as her gasp turned into a distinctly feminine moan for the second time today. The Castaway monitored her responses, gauging how correct his movements were based on the noises. Judging his current course to be correct, he continued his ministrations.

Moving his mouth to her collar, he began working the little pocket there, causing her to arch her back, giving him even more access to the region nestled between her thighs. He caressed along the sensitive area diligently, sending her blood flowing south. Her heart thundered in her chest to keep up with the demands. His fingers reached a small divot in her flesh, particularly wet. He pressed inwards ever so slightly.

Zoe clenched her teeth to keep from shouting in pleasure, a muffled groan escaping instead as her nerves were set aflame by his touch. Her nails pierced into him like talons. Finding the result too intense for her, he drew back, trying a different approach. He glided his fingers in a parallel motion, moving with the contours of her body's most private place, tracing the shape back and forth. Her breaths were more like pants now. She appeared to handle this easier, so he proceeded.

The Castaway worked on her body with artistic precision, learning what made her gasp in pleasure or roll her hips. He documented each and every reaction, committing them to memory. He was glad Zoe let him do this with her. The experience was intoxicating.

He remembered why he was here, what he needed to do. He would keep pushing forward until he conquered every last regret that made him enter that vortex and forsake, abandon, and discard the world he built before. What was all that compared to this feeling?

She deserved better than what she got, all those years ago. They all did.

A powerful spasm rocked her as he brushed against a particular sensitive bundle of nerves near her front, hips bucking at him desperately in response. He ran his finger around it, drawing circled inwards. Zoe let out a needy moan from the back of her throat, practically crushing her modest bust against him, the towel loosening slightly by her motions, rolling down just a bit. She had a simple black necklace, a small teal pendant suspended from the bottom. He eyed the newly revealed skin with rapt attention, captivated by the intriguing sight of the fleshy curves and cleavage. The round softness seemed to invite him in, demanding his touch.

But he didn't let that make him lose focus. This was her time for pleasure, not his.

The Castaway ran his lips back up to the crook of her neck one last time as he finally reached the center of that bundle of nerves with his fingers. He took this opportunity to suck particularly hard on a spot she seemed to like, even biting her a little, his teeth marking the flawless surface there. His fingers pressed down lightly, squeezing the most sensitive and vulnerable spot on her body.

The pain and pleasure mixed together for her and it was too much.

Zoe cried out, her gasping breaths turning into a series of loud wanten moans ripping out of her mouth as every nerve in her system pulsed outward from her core. Her legs lost their strength and she collapsed forward, the Castaway's gracious hold keeping her steady as she rode out the waves of pleasure he rewarded her with, her nether regions throbbing with formally repressed desire as his careful digits continued to pry all the throes of passion from her nubile and willing body. If Zoe thought the burning was a tingle before it was practically an inferno now. She felt all the accumulated stress of her life, build up for days and days, years and years, exacerbated by her capture, exit her body with each clenching pulse.

She felt lighter than she could ever remember, like she was finally free of some hidden burden. Her vision flared white as her muscles quaked and spasmed, the primal instincts of her young body rewarding her for the wonderful performance. Her arms around his neck were flexed threateningly tight.

The Castaway made sure to memorize every detail to his mind's eye, her unsuppressed emotions and unguarded expressions giving him the satisfaction of knowing she was enjoying every bit of these new sensations.

Eventually, Zoe went limp in his hold, breathing deeply as her numb mind slowly tried to collect itself, the Castaway's strong embrace waiting patiently for her. Both hands returned to her slim waist, caressing her in smooth circular motions as she rested her head on his shoulder. She didn't have the strength to move and he was content to simply keep holding her like this. The steamy water lapped at her as he slowly submerged them, drawing her torso into the water with him. She felt a different kind of pleasure suffuse her weary body, messaging her exhausted frame. A low, comfortable warmth emanated from her lower stomach where the ashes of the inferno used to be, before fading away into the background of her senses. She sighed at its absence before her breathing began to level out. She shut her eyes, and let the Castaway support her weight making no effort to remove herself.

He rested his chin on her head. He seemed proud of her.

-x-X-x-

She couldn't tell how much time had passed like this, only that by the time he finally nudged her to alertness, it was practically dark out and her skin was pruning. The water was now barely lukewarm, and the few pals outside were already fast asleep in their designated beds. He helped her stand up from the water, her legs still quivering slightly. From the residual pleasure or the cold night air, she couldn't tell. He swiftly handed her another towel to dry off, slipping it around her as she dropped the wet one to the ground. She began to shiver, looking at their discarded clothing items

No way she was steady enough to put those on. He seemed to have the same thought and ushered her to the house. He was shivering too, having forgone most of the clothes himself in favor of aiding her. He only managed to get on a longish loincloth, mere sleepwear at best. He still seemed a bit damp. She looked at him with concern but he simply shook his head and grimaced. He pushed her through the open door, before rummaging through a chest in the corner and extracting a simple cloth outfit too small for him. Had he made that for her? The Castaway handed it to her with a pointed look before turning his head to the side, giving her some privacy. She took it from him gingerly, easily slipping it on over her head and replacing the damp towel.

He still stood shirtless, a cold breeze from outside causing him to tense uncomfortably as he quickly closed the door. It was funny how neither a crime syndicate nor pals of unbelievable fortitude could phase him, but the natural elements of the world could still affect him to this degree. It made him a bit more human in her eyes. Zoe hummed lowly in thought, biting her lower lip. He wasn't going out to get his clothes and couldn't keep standing there either. There was no fire prepared and only one bed…

Unless…

She scrunched her face in trepidation. But he had treated her with nothing but respect, it would seem remiss of her not to extend the same to him. But the idea made her anxious, and self-conscious. He peered out at a gap between the wood like he was debating running out there. Another shiver coursed across his shoulders, causing him to flex and unflex the muscles there rapidly to try and generate some heat. She made her decision, shifting her weight, and placing a hand on her hip

"Don't even think about going out there, dummy."

It was sassier than Zoe meanest it to be and he seemed confused, so she tried again.

"You could stay here, you know…" she swayed from side to side, nerves prickling. The Castaway looked at her bewildered, he didn't appear to understand her suggestion. So she would need to be more direct. What a pain!

"We could both fit in the bed," she clarified. It was only ever made with her in mind, so it wasn't very wide. But it was warm. And she was warm too now, thanks to him.

He tilted his head at her suggestion, but he seemed far less confident than he was before, mouth pulled right in a line. He glanced behind him as if expecting someone else to be there that she was talking to. Zoe scowled.

He can fight like a demon with no qualms about feeling her up, but sleeping with a woman is what gets to him? Really!?

"You're sleeping here tonight," Zoe stated firmly, using his hesitation to take initiative. Now SHE felt like the proper adult. What a joke.

He stared into her eyes, trying to discern if she was messing with him, but found only the same determination she had all that time ago, when she, bloodied and on the ground, called him a coward to his face. It was inspiring.

Still, he only took a few steps in her direction, before pausing again. It was beginning to piss her off. Did he find the idea of laying with her repulsive? Unbefitting?

"What? Scared of being in the same bed as a girl? I bet this would be your first time doing that!"

Never mind the fact it would be hers too.

She paced forward and grabbed his arm, pulling him with her towards the bed that would somehow have to care for the both of them. She raised the sheets and sat down. Then she looked him dead in the eyes and smirked.

She patted the bed, mockingly, imitating his signature gesture.

THAT seemed to get to him, a challenge flaring up in his expression. She huffed triumphantly, haughtiness practically oozing out of her. She slid over as much as she could.

The Castaway gave her a dubious look before he wearily touched the bed, angling himself to lay down next to her. Zoe moved onto her side to give him more room. She felt his body touch hers once again, him pressing against her lightly covered back. She kept her breath level despite the sensation.

He pulled the covers over the both of them, the thick wool trapping their body heat beneath its floofy hide. She let out a longer exhale as he shifted closer, moving sideways as well to fit perfectly with her. His cool skin absorbed the heat of hers through the thin cloth material. She felt his muscles beneath it, still shaking from the cold. She pressed her own body back into him.

She gasped slightly when she felt his arms snake under her side to rest on her waist, pulling her closer. The other went above and grasped the curve of her hip. She shuddered out a breath, placing her hands on his. They were ice cold. She arched her back involuntarily.

"Tomorrow…"

She shivered at the sound of his voice next to her ear, smooth as golden honey.

"I want to show you something, tomorrow."

She just nodded wordlessly, his arms tightening around her protectively. Possessive.

The tingle was back.

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Alright, that got a little fluffier and censored than I thought it would. The next chapter will be more fun, I swear. In all the right ways. Bear with me.

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