Last Dance Redux 25

::TWENTY FIVE::

The last time she cried she was sleeping. Couldn’t have helped it even if she’d known she was doing it. She cries almost soundlessly now. To look at her, you’d think she was just sleeping, not sleeping well, but sleeping. Sitting with her in my lap in the back bay of the Virago, on the floor against the bulkhead. How can she be so small, so fragile? I never forgot she was a woman, but sometimes I forget just how small she is.

I couldn’t even begin to imagine how many people she’s killed, just to get here. Still completely covered in blood, except where her tears have washed it away. Still armed, the slung weapon pushed out of the way. Holding her tight I can feel her ribs against my arm, her face buried in my shirt while she cries silently. The hands that killed so many knotted in my shirt, as though it was the only thing keeping her here.

Run my hand up under her shirt, to rub her back, needing to feel her skin. Just needing to feel her. Her breath hitches once, twice, and she’s still again. Doesn’t move, lying curled in my lap, resting my chin on the top of her head. Her tears have stopped, but she hasn’t moved yet. Stroke across her back, feeling her breath deepen. Exhaustion setting in. She’d fight sleep, if she could, feeling there’s something she should be, could be, doing. There’s nothing she can do, so I rub her back, try to comfort her as much as I can. Not exactly good at this. Let her sleep, even if it’s for a little while.

Usually, I can’t stand being around a crying woman. This is a little different. Maybe it’s just her. She’d never ask me to comfort her, never let me see her cry. She’s not crying in weakness, just hurt, for the moment. There’s only so much a person can take, and she’s taken more than many could.

Johnson has stopped screaming. He’s going to lose that leg. A shattered mess of pulverized bone and torn muscle. My own gunshot wound was a graze compared to that. Mine didn’t hit the bone. Franks hasn’t stopped working over him, trying to mend what’s unmendable. His face marked with the strain. Blood up past the elbows. Only so much a man can do. It’s killing him, as the realization sets in, he can’t do it, no matter how good he is. You can’t fix what’s been completely destroyed. His head falls, his face a mask of misery, a soft wail escaping him. Giving Johnson a shot to put him out, knowing he’ll have to remove the leg when we get back to the Decatur. Glad it’s bright in here. With goggles on, I don’t have to meet the man’s eyes.

Small is gone too. A nineteen year old kid with his head blown clean off, sailing weightlessly to burn up in the atmosphere. Not much comfort that Dufresne joined him. I would have liked to have spent more time hurting him. Maybe having him share the fate of the kid he killed, and having him alive for those few seconds, was enough payment. Doesn’t seem like enough though. Even after what Dufresne did, he’s still lost to her. Someone she had trusted. Him being dead can’t really erase that. Can’t erase the hurt of the betrayal, and of the death and pain he caused.

She’s alive, though. And, aside from her losses, she’s unhurt. Run my hands gently over her, as she slept uneasily in my arms. None of that blood is hers. A few scratches. A burn across her back that I recognize all too well. Cattle prod. It’ll heal. All of it will heal.

“How is she…”

Franks, realizing he can’t do anything more for Johnson, coming forward to take a look at Jane. Not touching her, not wanting to wake her. Part of him a little wary of what I might do to him if he gets too close. I don’t try to hide my possessiveness, I couldn’t anyway. His eyes flick from her to me, making sure I won’t take a swipe at him, for touching her.

“Sleeping. Not very well, but sleeping. Johnson?…..” Nod my head over to Johnson. He’s already on his knees, or the question, maybe just the thought of the answer, would have brought him there. Just shakes his head, no. Lets out a sigh, before getting up, moving into the pilot’s seat, and heading us for the Decatur. He doesn’t have to sit up there, the Virago could take herself home. Just needs something to do.

A whimper in her sleep, her fist pulling at my shirt, as she struggles, trying to wake. Hold her a little tighter, so she won’t pull away from me, when she realizes she’s been crying. Struggling, confused, before resting her head back on my chest, my name a whisper on her lips. Hold her for a moment. Franks looking back to us, before turning back, lowering the lights to about fifteen percent for me. Always better to have the goggles off, women don’t like them.

Kiss her forehead, she’s reaching up to kiss me back. Her face a little puffy, from crying, her dark lashes in thick spikes, making them look even darker. The kiss is so gentle at first, afraid I’m going to hurt her. Watch the flush down her throat, her pulse quicken. Pulling herself up a little, kissing me harder, a soft moan of need escaping her. So close to so much death, needing to feel alive again. Kiss her back hard, my fist in her hair, to let her know it’s real.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, baby, but you stink.”

Can’t help but grin at her when I say it, remembering her telling me the same thing, not so long ago. Her small snort of laughter pulls at my heart a little, she’s dropping her head as she does it. Hold her under the chin, so I can watch her smile again.

Wincing as I get up, pulling her up with me, stiff, from having been down there too long. Franks watching me in the reflection off the front shield, before going back to what he was doing. Flying to have something to do. I try to keep Jane from looking at Johnson, as we move back to the tiny bathroom, with it’s even smaller shower stall. She’s having none of it. Stopping beside him, to reach down, and touch his shoulder. He’s out cold. Moving down to where the bloody sheet covers the leg wound, her eyes looking up to catch Franks looking back at her, he shakes his head at her, dropping his eyes again. Doesn’t want her to look. She leaves the sheet alone, sighing, staying still for a moment, her hand on his thigh.

“Will he live?….”

Her voice, although small and quiet, is cold and rational, the voice of a soldier, assessing how bad the situation is. She doesn’t want a pretty lie. Wouldn’t tolerate it.

“He’ll lose the leg, but he’ll live.” My back pressed to her as I say it, kiss her neck, before pulling her away from Johnson. There’s nothing she can do for him, and she knows it. Pragmatic.

Taking her weapons from her, before we reach the back. Not much room for the both of us in the bathroom. Look up to the front. Franks is making a point of paying attention to something else. Pull her shirt off, sticky, from the blood that’s dried to it, to her. Leaning on my shoulder, as I kneel to take her boots off. She hasn’t said a thing, as I undressed her. Quickly undress, and join her in the small bathroom.

Let the water run hot. Nothing else will get the blood out. It isn’t just the heat of the shower that’s making her flush. Trace my hand over the pulse in her throat. Racing. Catch her hands before she can touch me, hold them over her head, against the wall of the small shower. She could pull herself free, but she’s not interested in fighting me. Lean in , to kiss her neck, whisper in her ear.

“The blood first…”

Hard to ignore the desire in her, as I wash the blood off her. Especially given how small the shower stall is. She lets me continue, the curves of her body taunting me. Washing the blood out of her hair first, running in a pink torrent down her back. Wash her neck, kissing where I bit her, her neck arching under my hands. Run my hands over the rest of her, stroking and caressing, more than washing, letting the hot water do the rest.

Her small, strong hands on my hips, tentatively at first, looking at me to see if I’ll pin them again. I don’t. This stopped being about getting her clean, if it was ever about that. Maybe it’s just the only place on the Virago where I have her completely to myself.

Suck the water off her neck, nipping at the hard line of her jaw. Lean down to kiss her breast, her nipple, before pulling on it gently with my teeth. Her back arches towards me, her soft moan echoing in the small space. A whimper as I let it go, to suck her other nipple, already hard under my tongue. She’s reaching down for my cock. I drop to my knees before she gets the chance, pushing her hips against the wall.

Let her hands rest on my shoulders, as I first push her thighs apart, before lifting her leg over my shoulder. Stroke my thumb over her clit, growling at her small gasp, pull back her hood. I already see in pinks and purples. Even in the dark, the colour of her is perfect. Beautiful flushed pink, under the hood. Flick my tongue over the swollen heart of her, loving the sound of her moan echo. Suck hard, what little nails she has digging into my shoulders. Push her thighs apart, letting my thumbs run over wet lips, opening, before sliding my tongue back, to taste the rest of her.

“…please…Riddick….”

So quiet, her voice shaking. I can’t help but grin, difficult, if I want to continue. I never thought she would beg. Slide my tongue back over her clit, pulling up hard, making her scream, before releasing her. Push her back against the wall. Her kiss hard and demanding. Cup my hands under her ass, pulling her up to my waist, her legs wrapping around me.

Her arms circle my neck, burying her face in my shoulder, fighting hard not to scream. Enter her slowly, she feels so damned good. Press her hard to the wall, hold her with one hand, stroke the other over her neck. So slow. Arch back a little, pulling her head back, so I can watch, as I withdraw, and drive back into her. Screams of pleasure, no pain. Not slow anymore. Her demanding cries making me lose control. Try to kiss her, so we can both be quiet, but I don’t care anymore. I love the sound of her, screaming for me, breathlessly crying out my name as she comes.

Pull back from her, growling. Bite my lip, letting the pain keep me from coming. Slow my pace a little, let me get some control over myself again. It’s not going to be easy, with her moaning in my ear like that, every cry turning into a scream she’s struggling to control, at every penetration. Try to be still for a moment, the both of us breathing hard now, a whimper of need from her, at me stopping. Her pussy muscles clenching, making it hard to stay still.

Kiss her neck, where I bit her, being gentle, where I was so rough before. A trail of kisses up to her ear. Drag my bottom lip over the outer shell, whispering.

“You’re mine, Jane. Mine.”

Feeling the words pull at my heart, as I’m saying them. Something else I should be saying, but I can’t. Not yet. Her hands untangle themselves from around my neck, cupping my face between them. Kissing me, softly this time. Her own words even quieter than mine.

“I’m your’s.”

Our foreheads resting together, our noses just touching. Her small hands resting on my jaw. The shared breath of her first scream, as I let myself go. Fuck her hard, any notion of control gone with those two words. Everything dropping into the pit of my belly. My hands are probably going to leave bruises on her, but I can’t seem to relax. To merely be inside her isn’t enough. If I could get closer to her I would. Drop my head to her neck again, not biting, I don’t want to hurt her. My lips pressed against the pulse in her neck. Racing. She’s coming again, hard. Clench and release, a flutter, as her hips buck into me. Her scream in my ear, as I explode into her, pulling her closer, biting her anyway, not able to stop it. Her last cries growing weaker, her body shuddering in aftershocks.

My hands shaking, reach over and shut off the water, before it grows cold. Let her down, her legs shaking. Hold her tight, close to me, not wanting to let her go at all. Only move when she starts to shiver, drying her off first.

Stick my head out the door, about to walk across and grab a sheet for her to wrap up in. Franks came by at some point, left a sheet and a blanket folded up by the bathroom door. Made coffee for us, before moving back up front to keep flying. I give Jane the blanket, being pretty used to the idea of the sheet by now.
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