Cair pulled the loose ends of my bra to my sides and then slowly lifted them. The lacy material crossed before my face. I sensed movement above me, but by the time I’d dropped my head back to witness it, he held my bra in one hand. The bra that was now completely removed from my body.
My breasts hung free, and my nipples puckered in the brig’s chilled air as Cair stepped back to drop the bra atop my cut dress on the floor.
“How…” I asked in bewilderment.
“This is not my first interrogation.”
I opened my mouth to object and then didn’t, given the futility. Instead, I asked a question. “What will I wear home, given that you’ve ruined my dress?” I left unspoken the possibility of failing the interrogation.
Cair’s yellow eyes narrowed. He spun away from me and walked the ten feet to the cabinet along the far wall. He held his hand in front of a drawer, which slid open silently. His hands disappeared into the drawer and withdrew what appeared to be a pile of navy blue cloth.
“Is that clothing?” I asked.
Cair set the folded cloth on the counter and then returned to stand before me. “Yes. Basic prisoner garb.”
“Prisoner garb?”
“Yes. A shirt and pants. Are you satisfied?”
“Am I satisfied?” I shook my head, attempting to rattle my arms in the glowing locks again. Failing to elicit a satisfying noise. Again. “When I’m trussed up like an animal? That would be a big, fat, fucking no.” I inhaled deeply, noting that Cair’s eyes drifted to watch my breasts rise. Xelthar’s comment about forced mating flashed in my mind. “Let’s just get this over with.”
Another curt nod. Cair’s hand reached toward me.
I closed my eyes and braced for contact with my breast again. Instead, soft skin touched my face as he cupped my chin. My eyes flew open and locked on his.
His fingers trailed along my jawline before his hand lowered to my neck, the gentle contact surprising me. “Had you met Xelthar Zarnoth before tonight?”
“No,” I answered, unhappy to hear the breathiness in my voice.
Cair’s right hand continued its descent, pausing at the top of the swell of my breast. “Why did you interfere with my apprehension of the runner?”
“I didn’t mean to interfere,” I said, piecing together that perhaps Vadhea wanted Xelthar for something he should not have done. Of course, that was trusting Cair’s word. My chest rose to meet Cair’s hand as it lowered further and cupped the fullness of my left breast.
“Why did you ask me to release Xelthar?” the alien rephrased, his fingers massaging.
“I thought you were going to kill him,” I whispered, as a tiny ache between my legs sparked.
“You do not know me. Why would you have thought that?” Cair’s left hand rose to join his right, and he held tight to my bare breasts. The rolling motion of his fingers over the sensitive skin flared that tiny ache.
“I’m not sure,” I said, distracted by the growing heat between my legs. How could a sexual interrogation turn me on so much?
“That is not an acceptable answer,” Cair growled into my ear as he moved so close I felt his tracksuit pants against my bare skin. His right hand released my breast and glided past my ribcage, along my waist, squeezed my hip, and then hooked inside the hem of my black lace panties.
“What was the question again?” I asked, refusing to flinch away from the intensity of his yellow eyes locked again on my brown ones.
Cair’s finger slid down, taking my underwear with it. He stopped his downward movement only when the fabric had moved below my ass and exposed my lady bits in all their glory.
I shuddered as a sudden rush of need rolled over me from the combination of his gentle motion, the restraint against the metal wall, and the coolness of the brig’s air on my vulva.
“Why would you have thought that I was going to kill Xelthar Zarnoth?” Cair repeated.
“You gripped his shirt pretty hard and were lifting him almost off the ground.” The words rushed out as I did my best to press my thighs together, despite the restraints at my ankles.
Cair shook his head, his eyes darkening to a shade of amber. His hand slipped between my legs, and his fingers wrapped around one thigh—my god, his hands were huge—prying my legs apart. “We could have been any two men fighting. Why did you interfere?” he asked a simpler version of his question from before as his hand dwarfed my lady bits and began rhythmically rubbing.
“Oh!” The heat from his hand mingled with the growing heat of my desire. Speaking of growing. “Is that a banana in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” I babbled at the realization that what I felt pushing against my skin was likely his cock.
His hand’s action stilled. “What did you ask?”
