::FOURTEEN::

“I am definitely not allowed to leave if you never eat, baby.”
Continue reading →

::THIRTEEN::

He’s stopping me, pulling me up gently by the arm, kissing me again, softer this time. Walking me back towards the bed, his lips never leaving mine once. I fall back when my knees hit the bed, he’s following behind me. Urging and nuzzling and kissing me, until I back up enough. Pressing down into me, his weight supported on his elbows. His hands back in my hair.
Continue reading →

::TWELVE::

His own plaintive moan, as he nuzzles into my neck. He’s here. He’s back. Come back to me. The thought of him, the smell of him, makes me dizzy, after the ache of thinking I might never see him again. I turn my head, nuzzling his ear over, biting at his neck. A hiss of breath over gritted teeth, a low growl. Any release he sought for himself before I arrived is short lived. His heart still races under my hand.
Continue reading →

::ELEVEN::

His voice, no more than a deep hoarse whisper, from directly behind me. “Riddick..” Continue reading →

::TEN::

A day and a half. Back to me in less than thirty six hours. How can it seem so long? Time seems to crawl. I hate my own internal clock right now, no matter how well it has served me the rest of my life. Right now it is a traitor to me, my torturer. I had tried to sleep, hoping that in sleep enough time would pass, and it would be closer to the time when he would be here. Maybe five or six hours of peace. I lie in bed for another hour, awake, hearing every sound, hearing nothing.
Continue reading →

::NINE::

Two days. I still have two days, and now I don’t even have the distraction of committing murder to keep me marginally busy while I wait for him. Of course, I could methodically kill everyone on the resort, and it wouldn’t serve to take my mind off Riddick. Fifteen days with only his scent, and the thought of him, to keep me from madness.
Continue reading →

::EIGHT::

Her death is quick, and clean, her body collapsing like a marionette with cut strings. As if she simply …stopped. Pull my hand free from her nest of wet curls, to catch her as she slumps forward, gently resting her on the couch. If it weren’t for the massive blade still buried in her neck, she would merely look asleep. Lips parted slightly in a tiny smile, eyes closed, almost peaceful. Not a mark on her anywhere else. Not a bad way to die.
Continue reading →

::SEVEN::

Now that she has me here, she seems a little unsure. No fear, no doubts about whether it’s wise to bring the lover of a convicted mass murderer into your private room or not. This is a shyness, a nervousness, that all her act of dominance in the lounge can’t hide. All it would take is a word from me, a move in her direction, and she would bolt.
Continue reading →

::SIX::

The Ferryman’s Lounge, like so many other places within the Midorian, was dimly lit, luxurious, and showing her age. I knew she would be here, there was never any doubt. I make a point of not looking for her when I come in. She’ll find me, when she’s ready to. The flush at her throat when I left her last telling me that she, if nothing else, is ready.
Continue reading →

::FIVE::

I almost hated to close the box again, so lost in the moment was I. Just standing, with my hands resting on the cool steel, that strange oiled feel of it, like a living thing, was enough to make me think of Riddick. Not that I required much prompting, especially not lately. Still, it wouldn’t do to be found in the private quarters of a man you’ve just thrown into an incinerator.
Continue reading →