The guns tattooed on his cheeks pointed to the one part of her body that needed him most. His tongue joined his fingers inside her pussy, stretching her further. It was even more demanding than his hand.
Elodie rode it with renewed energy, chasing the continuous high right over the cliff’s edge. Then, as if the cliff was real, she was dragged off the table and pulled down atop him on the floor until she was maneuvered to straddle his face—speared on his tongue.
His hands gripped her hard, harder than ever before, past the point of pain just as the ship shook like it had been hit by a bomb. All the items Gunner had picked up once again scattered across the floor, ringing more than moans in her ears. The rumbles and tremors were mistaken for another climax as Gunner continued to eat her out, pistoning his tongue—completely undisturbed by the clapping, banging metal around them.
She fell forward and pressed her hands into the floor, struggling against the violent quakes. “Gunner,” she screeched, feeling gravity shift as his tongue picked up speed. “What’s happening!?”
“Warp,” he muttered, his breath fanning her quivering pussy. His red eyes stared straight up at her, undisturbed, and wickedly taunting.
Then he hummed.
Oh, fuck!Elodie bowed over him and braced because there was no time for anything else. No time to find something to strap herself to.
But Gunner had her covered.
Chapter Seventeen
***
HALF A CYCLE PASSEDas he kept Elodie safe with him in the mechanics’ breakroom.
Chesnik had returned several times throughout but he was never allowed to stay long, regardless, it hadn’t deterred the man from trying. Eventually, Gunner let him see his daughter but only for a small reprieve.
Gunner left her sleeping within, now comfortable in an array of forged supplies, as he made his way back to the main passageways, back toward the brig where the others were now free. The familiar pungent scent of the prisoners gradually replaced the acrid rust and the humidity of steam rising from the machines.
But every step away from Ely was difficult, as if there was a noose tight around his neck—or his heart—and she held onto the other end.
Gunner stepped through the latch and familiar men—now equipped with guns—were stationed on the other side.
He closed the door and jammed the locking mechanism. No one was going to be getting in and out without his knowledge.
“Any news?” He approached the first.
“Besides the abrupt warp jump that most of us miraculously survived, not much in the news front. We’re locked down here in the underbelly. The pirates have the second and presumably the third level elevator on lockdown. Every live man we’ve sent up has come back down to us as a bullet-ridden corpse.”
“How many casualties?”
