She’d chosen to stay.
She was his now.
Trish swam through space as though it were water, trying to get to the Earth, but the Earth kept sliding farther away while the Moon came closer. She changed directions, trying to get to the Moon, but then it slid away while the Earth rotated closer. It didn’t matter which she aimed for, she couldn’t reach either of them, and her lungs began to burn as the blackness of space closed in around her, pressing against her chest and crushing her ribcage.
Trish awoke with a gasp and wriggled away from the heavy pressure of Jordan’s arm across her ribcage. She slid her arm beneath his to give herself some breathing room and realized her wrists were still cuffed together. Trish scowled.
Jordan shifted, and she stilled, not wanting to wake him up. To her relief, he let out a long sigh and settled back into the mattress, his arm tightening before slumping back into a relaxed state. He was still asleep.
Exhaustion tugged at her, but Trish wasn’t sure she could fall back asleep. She struggled with her new reality—the new reality she’d chosen. Trish had come to feel more at home in the Wolf’s compound than she had on the Moon. She didn’t hate or fear Jordan anymore.
She was willing to admit—after worrying about him during Lisa and Ken’s capture—that she cared for Jordan. She cared about what happened to him. Some part of her loved the way he doted on her, even the way he controlled her.
The Moon was not where Trish wanted to be. There, she was less than a pawn: she was a person of no importance. The Moon’s people only valued the wealthy and powerful, but the Earth might not be much better. After years of turmoiland then dictatorial rule, people weren’t treated the way they should be. Unfortunately, neither the Earth’s leadership nor the Moon’s was a shining example of how to treat its citizens. Their moralities were different, but they were both pretty terrible.
Her studies had taught her that people used to have more choices. Things used to be more egalitarian. Relationships used to involve actual romance, not power maneuvers and politics, or lust and kidnapping. People in relationships used to give each other candy or other edible tokens of affection, the same way Jordan often plied her with small chocolates and cake.
On the other hand, he’d also kidnapped her, used her, and turned her into his sexual plaything.
Did the fact that Trish now liked being his sexual plaything make her feel any better?
No, not really.
She hadn’t wanted to leave him—still didn’t want to leave—but would she be happy staying?
Trish was all on her own in her unhappiness about being plucked out of the streets. Was it because she hadn’t grown up on Earth, like Laura? If she had, would Trish have been more accepting of her fate?
Probably. Everyone else had seemed to accept it. This was normal for them.
But Trish wasn’t Laura. She hadn’t been raised on Earth. She hadn’t known a life where being taken had been a possibility. No one had ever wanted her. She’d thought she’d spend her life anonymously, with no one taking a real interest inher. In her work, perhaps, if she did well, but not her as a person.
How was she supposed to feel? Trish had made a choice based on her lingering fear for Jordan during the kidnapping of Lisa and Ken—and possibly some jealousy over Lisa’s attempts to use her body to bargain with –Jordan—as well as her general desire for many parts of her life in the Wolf’s compound.
She was so confused.
Even her emotions were confused. Trish was mad Jordan wouldn’t talk to her about letting her do something as simple as cleaning herself off, but, at the same time, her body had thrilled to him taking control. She’d felt cared for even as it had frustrated her. She had possessive, maybe even romantic, feelings for him, but, half the time, Trish resented herself for feeling that way because she shouldn’t.
She wanted to kick him, and yet she craved his touch.
She wanted some control back over her life, and yet she loved it when he dominated her.
She’d thought things would change, now that she’d decided to stay, and was both frustrated and relieved that Jordan didn’t think anything should change between them.
When he shifted again, snuggling her closer, her heart made an unsteady thump, and happy warmth slid through her.
Trish wanted to bang her head on the wall.
It would be so much easier if she could let go and be like Laura and the others. Or if she could hate Jordan for what he’d done; how he’d disrupted her life.
But all Trish could do was hope she wouldn’t come to regret her decision to stay.
15
As usual, Jordan woke up before Trish. He stroked his hands down her body, almost not believing that she was still there. That he wouldn’t have to hunt her down and cart her back to him. She murmured in her sleep as he caressed her, her front pressing close to him, arching against him, and his cock—already half hard—rose to its full length in response.
But as he prepared to roll her onto her back and wake her up in the usual way, his com chimed with the special note that let him know the Wolf wanted his presence.
Groaning, Jordan got up and went to the closet and pulled out a dress for Trish to wear. This one was the same blue as her eyes. When he turned around, she was stirring and blinking in his direction.
