Captive of the Deep by Michelle M. Pillow

Seconds later he found the slick opening of her desire. The memory of the wetness, the tight sheathe of her sex, called to the primal conqueror inside of him and he had to take her.
    He reached down, finding her pussy wet and ready. His finger slipped into the tight folds, brushing up and down along her slit. She jolted as he passed her clit. He rubbed along her sex several times, pushing a finger inside her before quickly pulling back.
    Rigel guided his cock to her opening, taking aim. His arousal slid against the tightening of her pussy, before he thrust, filling her completely. Her hand gripped his hips, urging him on. He braced his weight with one hand, reaching for a breast. He fondled it through the material blockade. Though he wanted flesh, there was something sexy about the eager way her clothes were tossed about her body. It pulled tight in some places and hung loose in others. She didn’t seem to notice.
    His world became a rush of sensations—her thighs against his, he wet slip of her sex, the softness of her breath, the heat of her skin, the pressure of her body. Her fingernails skimmed his back and ass, scratching his flesh. Sweet little noises escaped her throat.
    He moved his hips, taking it slow. Their lips met. He wasn’t sure if it was his doing or hers. Lyra’s hands pushed through his hair, holding him to her. Their tongues caressed, mimicking the thrust of their bodies. Tension built, but he held back not wanting it to end too soon. He waited to feel her tremble against him as she came.
    Lyra gasped and let go of an erotically feminine cry. Her fingers dug into his shoulders as she tensed. Rigel’s body answered hers. He came, jerking his hips as he released.
    “Lyra,” he whispered, unsure what he was going to say.
    “Don’t,” she answered. “Just close your eyes and sleep with me.”
     
     
     

Chapter Seven
     
    Lyra wasn’t sure what caused her to slip out of Rigel’s bed in the early morning hours and leave his home, but that is what she found herself doing. She couldn’t get the image of the tortured man out of her dreams. Finding her way to the laboratory doors with some difficulty, she was relieved to find that the man was alone in the room.
    She didn’t know what possessed her, but she was suddenly pulling on the door in an effort to open it. What if it was her brother? Her father? It didn’t look like them, but then the transparent body made it hard to detect features.
    The frantic thought gave her hope. Somewhere, she knew that hope was pointless, but she clung to it. She needed it. Lyra pulled harder. She wasn’t sure how, but the door was suddenly open.
    “Dad?” she whispered. “Will? Jack? Kris? Rocky? Winston?”
    None of the words caused the being to stir.
    “What did they do to you?” She knelt, touching the wet flesh of the man. She saw the shape of his arms and legs, noted the defined strength in his arms. He felt solid, slick and firm. “How can I help?”
    The man stirred and she thought she heard him speak. “Ocean.”
    “Ocean,” she repeated. Not knowing what else to do, she said, “Ok, I’ll take you to the ocean.”
    The two guards would probably be at the opening of the Crystal Caves, but she could distract them easily enough. They would be eager for some kind of action, considering no one ever tried to break out of Altaran. If she told them Rigel needed them, they would run to his aid without questioning her. Then, she could help the man into the water.
    “Ocean,” he said again.
    “I’m trying.” She pulled at his arm to lift him. He wasn’t much help as she braced her legs and hoisted him up against her back. Her legs shook, but she had a purpose and she wasn’t about to stop. In this she was not helpless. She could help this man. She had to help him because she felt connected to him. She couldn’t explain it.
    “Hold on,” she said under her breath, as she willed her feet to slowly move up the stairs. Sweat beaded on her body at the