Enticed By The Corsair (Corsairs, #3)

by Ruby Dixon

Kivian would do his foolish song and dance, pretending to be a petty outer-rim lordling instead of the pirate he is. He'd show up in his gaudiest clothing with his human pet at his side, lose badly at sticks, and lose Cat to them. Once she's on their ship, Cat'll override their shields with a chip that Sentorr made for her and we've trained her how to use. She knows where to insert it in their ship’s circuitry and how to activate it. She's got the thing tucked into her mouth right now, and she's got weapons stashed all over her flimsy little costume. Even the collar she's wearing is reverse-engineered so she can shock other people with it instead of it being used against her. The pale flesh she's showing has been coated with a reagent that will make her captors sleepy and unable to get their cocks erect. She's in no danger. Once she gets on board, she'll put them to sleep and then we take over their ship, disable it, politely lift the goods, and then go on our way. It's a simple plan, made all the more beautiful because it's their own greedy foolishness that'll get these szzt into trouble.

Tarekh’s my friend, but I’ll welcome any chance to use my fists, any opportunity to get some of this rage out of my head.

I’m itching for a good fight. Any fight.

“Promise me,” Tarekh says in a low voice. When I glance over, he continues. “Promise me that if she’s dead, you’ll put an end to me, too. I won’t live knowing that I failed her.” I stare at him. We’ve been through a lot, he and I, and Tarekh’s always been light-hearted and easy-going. This isn’t him. But I’ve never been mated. I don’t understand what it’s like. This sits wrong with me. But I also know what it’s like to want to die. So I nod.

Maybe there’ll be something—or someone—else to fight in the cargo bay, because I’m not tired. I haven’t had enough. There’ll never be enough, my mind whispers, but I ignore it. Have for years and years.

Everyone suffered. I’m not special in that aspect. Special because I can’t move on from it, maybe.

This might be another trick. This might be my captors toying with me, trying to goad me into fighting back again because then they get to maim me again. As if they needed an excuse. My fingers itch, especially the tip of my pinky that’s no longer there. My missing toe, too. The carvings in my leg that are probably someone’s initials, or the alien equivalent of “Dave Wuz Here.” Not my eyes, though. My eyes never hurt. Probably because they’re gone.

I was terrified, but I’ve learned through weeks of hell that I can’t show my responses. So I sit as quiet and motionless as I can with my fists on my thighs, determined not to make a sound. Not to be disobedient.

I’ll clasp my hands in my lap and do my best to be calm and placid, like a good little slave. Emotions are too dangerous, and I can’t afford to look like anything except the perfect pet.

Something deep inside me instinctually recognizes her as mine. I’ve heard other mesakkah talk about it. How when they meet their female, they just know in their gut that she’s the one. That the connection is lightning fast and soul-wrenchingly deep. Always thought that was garbage until now.

My heart skips a beat at that smile. For that, I’d do anything. For her, I’d move asteroids and fly through black holes, unafraid. I’m hers in that moment. Completely and utterly hers.

“Oh, I'm not fixed. I'm as broken as ever. But you get better at hiding it. And you get better at being broken.”

“Of course.” Her voice is smooth and pleasant. “Thank you.” I grit my teeth at how robotic and monotonous she makes those words sound. So very agreeable.

“Yeah. She's mine. I didn't think it'd happen so fast but…” “I hear that's how it happens,” Sentorr says, flicking a hand over his screen and pulling up another map, then overlaying it on the current star chart. “Like a bolt of lightning.”

“Someday it'll happen for you, too, my friend.” He just snorts.

“And it's not like we have armor like they do. We have to wear our armor on the inside.”

The door chimes. “Entry: Alyvos Nos Sturian.”

Touching a male mesakkah's tail is the equivalent of fondling his cock.

“Mesakkah cap our horns when we come of age. It's a sign of adulthood. Of civilization. I don't know why we do it, just that if you don't cap them, you're looked at like some sort of wild man who just emerged from the jungle on a very backwards moon.”

No wonder there's no fight left in her. They broke her and she hasn't had time to mend.

Everyone has a job on ship, it seems. Fran takes inventory regularly and helps Kivian with various duties around the ship. Cat helps Tarekh with maintenance. Sentorr apparently lives at his nav station. Alvos is in charge of weaponry.

Iris's unflappable calm is driving me insane.

I know he wants more from me because I think he wants me as his mate. I'm not that clueless or naïve. There's an electric sort of attraction between us, and he wouldn't care if I answered him blandly if he didn't want more. Truth is…I might want something like that, too.

“Make me forget,” she whispers. “Remind me that I'm in a good place.” “You're with me,” I tell her between presses of my mouth to hers. I am hungry for more, so much more. I love the feel of her slight body pressing against mine as we kiss, and my cock aches, my needs long suppressed. “In my bed. In my arms.” “Take my virginity,” she whispers, rubbing up against my chest. “Make it so no one wants to buy me ever again.”

It's not that I need him to guide me through the ship or be my friend. It's that I need him. I need his presence. I need his affection and support. I need more than just that brief kiss from last night. Have I fallen in love without even realizing it?

“It's not to prove a point,” Alvos says. “It's because I love you and you're mine.”

“I never thought it'd be so sexy when a female hit me,” he murmurs,

“You gonna smack me around a few more times, fierce little thing?”

the hard edge of the thick plate over his breastbone. It's fascinating and alien and sexy all at once. “What color is this?” “Blue, just like everything else. Just darker blue.”

Maybe I should think beyond my fists. Try to solve this without needing a fight. Do this right. Prove to Iris that I'm more than a pair of fists.

We'll be in my bunk, enjoying the zero-G.”

It doesn't matter that he's broken, or that I am, too. It's okay that we're flawed as long as we find our way together. So I hold on tightly to him and let Alyvos carry me away to my next climax. I'm safe in his arms. Safe with him forever.

Iris murmurs into my ear and adjusts her visor. It took a few months for us to find a black-market visual specialist that would make her a human-sized visor. Bionic implants were suggested, but they're mesakkah sized and not human sized, and until we can find the right person, she's using a radar-sensing visor. It makes her a lot more confident.