Children of the Moon Ch. 2

Riddick becomes stiff as he sits beside me. His hands fall away from my body. My growl is echoed in his question. “Lawrence Johns?” I nod slightly. The bed creaks as he moves, I feel his lips brush across mine quickly before he sits up again. “Johnny’s dead, trust me.”

“You’ll have to tell me about it sometime.” I smile, sensing his nod.

“What else?” He asks as his hands move again, fingertips and nails dragging back and forth across my nipples.

It is distracting, but I return my mind to that memory. “I watch as Johns walks away, rubbing at his lip, muttering something under his breath. A shadow falls across me and I look up at the doctor, at what he holds in his hand. ‘Fuck’ I mutter, but I can’t struggle, they’ve strapped me to the table, my head immobilized. He fits the spreaders between my eyelids and the knife comes down.”

My mind moves through the rest of the memory, but I don’t need to describe it. Riddick knows what else will happen, the process of getting a Shine job. The memory fades shortly after, with no anesthetic the pain is too much and my mind retreats into unconsciousness. There are small mercies in life, but few.

“I wake here, in this bed, this room, this house with its garden. The doctor comes each night with food. Sometimes he comes with orders from the Company. Whatever happened before that day, now I am the perfect lackey, the perfect point and click assassin...”

He stretches out on the bed beside me, his teeth closing around one nipple as his hand moves down between my thighs, fingers moving in a way that builds onto the fire he has awakened within me.

I smile as he moves to cover me, his hardness pressing against my entrance as his lips move across my throat. I wait for him to move, but he doesn’t. My legs move without my really planning, wrapping around his waist, my hips tilting upward. He is within me, just barely. Never nearly enough.

I toss my head back, letting the coins roll away as I look at him, find his eyes locked on mine. “Shoulda ghosted me when they had the chance.” His smirk mirrors my own, he understands. Vengeance is sweet and holy, and best shared with someone who’s hunger is the same.

I tighten my legs around his waist, pulling him into me. For a time, as we move together, the rest ceases to matter.

The game is begun.