At Drogan’s Command (Hades Helmet Crew) Read online

Page 2


  He sighed. Damn it. She was one of the best assistants he had ever had. She put up with all his demands, and if he got even a toe out of line she would straighten him out in no time flat. More than that, she was a person he could confide in, have a laugh and a drink with, and just be himself around. The thought of being without Rena actually scared him.

  Drogan looked over to his office and watched the doors slide open. Rena stepped across the threshold, smiling at Jason. Her smile warmed Drogan, even as he frowned. Jason Mercy was known to be one of the lady-killers of the crew. Was he flirting with her? Drogan glowered at the thought that Jason was after Rena. He almost stood up to tell his second in command to back off. Instead, he remained seated and gritted his teeth.

  Rena looked up at him, her smile faltering on her lush, full lips.

  “Captain, sir. Is something wrong?”

  Drogan found himself pleased by her worried tone. “No, no, just tired. Been a long journey.”

  “Oh, well, you should get some rest, sir, if you don’t mind me saying.”

  He watched her look away shyly. Her concern touched him. His heart expanded in his chest and he grinned. The evil voice of a man who had gone six months with only his hand as a form of release slipped into his mind. He wouldn’t mind getting some rest after fucking her.

  Drogan’s cock twitched in his pants and he clenched his jaw as an image of her curled up naked beside him entered his mind. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some of his control.

  “Thank you for your concern, Rena. I will.” His voice was slightly husky from arousal.

  Rena looked up at him and blinked, only to nod her head and leave the bridge. Drogan blew out a sigh and tilted his head back, closing his eyes and willing his body to calm down.

  “You okay, Captain?” Jason asked.

  “Yes, just tired.”

  “Go on, Captain. I’ll take over. There’s nothing happening right now. Don’t worry about a thing.”

  Drogan opened his eyes and stood up. Nodding to Jason, he left the bridge and headed for his quarters. The ship was silent and still. He loved this time in the voyage. No crew members rushing around bumping into each other. No murmuring through the halls and in the lifts. Just quiet.

  He leaned against the back of the elevator and closed his eyes.

  “Rena,” he whispered. He groaned aloud as the ache in his groin increased. He needed relief. Two years she had been on the ship, and not once had she given him a sign that she was interested. It was against regulations for crew to become involved, and Rena cared about regulations almost as much as he did.

  The soft beep and swoosh of the elevator doors told him he had arrived on his floor. As Drogan made his way down the hall, he passed Rena’s room, only five doors down from his. He had insisted that she stay close by in case he ever needed her. It had been his little excuse to keep her near him. She had never questioned his logic, and he never explained further.

  His cock became harder as he passed her door. He could have easily taken the lift that sat directly across from his room but had chosen not to.

  I am a masochist, he thought.

  He tortured himself with the hope of seeing her in the morning and at night before he went to sleep. He could easily insist that she move to the room next door to his to torture himself some more, but he wouldn’t go that far.

  Drogan arrived at his door and punched in his security code. After the retinal and fingerprint scans, the door to his quarters slid open, and he entered the dim interior.

  “Computer, soft jazz from Earth,” he called out. He started to strip. Undoing his weapons belt, he placed his sword and laser gun in his arsenal cabinet. He undressed and stepped into the shower. Grabbing a bottle of shower gel, he squeezed a small amount into his palm and started to wash his chest. He tilted his head upward and closed his eyes. Water pelted his face as his mind traveled back to Rena. His cock twitched in response.

  He grabbed the bottle of gel again and ignored his cock as he washed the rest of his body. Finally he squeezed more soap into his hand and took hold of his cock, stroking his shaft from root to tip, smearing the pearlescent drops of precum on its thick head. He groaned, not wanting to use his hand to come. He needed to be sunk balls-deep in Rena’s tight, hot, wet pussy. He wanted to feel Rena’s body beneath him, rubbing, sliding against his, her hardened nipples scraping against his chest, her fingernails digging into his back as he fucked her long and hard.

  He wanted to hear her sighs and moans as she grew closer to her climax. But most of all, he wanted to be with her at that very moment, to hold her in his arms and know that she felt the same way about him as he did about her.

  It was no use hiding from his feelings, especially when he was alone. He was in love with Rena and could do nothing about it. His hand continued to pump his cock. As he grew closer to his climax, his hips started to move, thrusting forward while he tightened his grip. He reached down, taking his balls into his hand, rolling the delicate eggs as he drew closer and closer to the edge.

  “Oh, Rena,” he moaned, seeing her so clearly in his mind. Droplets of water trailed down her mocha skin, sliding over things he could only wish to touch. Her dark brown eyes burned with desire as she took in his naked form. Her long, thick mass of chocolate-colored hair fell in waves around her shoulders. Her dark brown nipples tempted him, thick nubs that wanted to be licked, sucked, and nibbled.

  Drogan groaned as his hips moved faster, fucking his hand exactly the way he wanted to fuck Rena. He stopped tugging and rolling his balls with his other hand and placed his palm flat against the wall. He leaned forward as he continued to pump his hips.

  “Rena,” he groaned, and clenched his jaw as he felt close to coming.

  Heat exploded within him as his climax hit him. Pearly strings of cum hit the tiled wall of the shower and slid down, mixing with the water to disappear down the drain. He continued to thrust into his hand until his balls were empty. The last trickle of his seed slipped down his hand, his breath coming out in harsh pants, his long, thin braids covering his face.

  Once he felt calm enough, he cleaned up. Pressing another button made the water stop and the walls slide back to reveal heating panels. A blast of heat surrounded him on all sides, drying the moisture on his body.

  “Dim lights,” he ordered.

  The room became dusky. Shadows grew on the walls and in corners. He pulled back the covers of his bed and slid between the sheets, pulling the blanket over his nude body. He sighed as soft music lulled him to sleep. It had been a long day. Closing his eyes, he drifted off into dreamland.

  * * *

  Fingers drifted down his chest, over the ridges of his abdomen. Nails scraped his hips and thighs. His back arched, but he could only move so far. His wrists were bound and tied to something. Blackness was all he could see.

  Drogan felt pressure on his cock, which caused it to ache. He hissed when he felt a single fingernail trail up his shaft, from root to tip. The feeling was more intense than usual. Something warm, wet, and slightly rough ran over the mushroom head of his erection. He hissed as pleasure and pain clashed within him. He was on fire, burning up with arousal. He didn’t know who was torturing him, but he swore he would return the favor once he was free.

  “So beautiful. So delicious. By the gods, how I want you.”

  Rena? She was doing this to him? He struggled against whatever was holding him down. He tried to pull his arms down but they wouldn’t move. He twisted this way and that, but it didn’t help much. He was being held by something that felt as soft as leather but as strong as steel.

  “Rena,” he started, his voice sounding scratchy and rough as if he had been yelling. “Let me go, sweetheart.”

  “No,” she giggled, a husky sound that caused his cock to twitch painfully.

  “Why not?” He groaned inwardly, he sounded whiny. He hated to whine.

  “Because, Captain, sir, I have you right where I want you.” Her moist, warm breath caressed his hard me
mber as her tongue blazed a path of fire up his shaft.

  Drogan cried out. He was on the edge of an orgasm and all he needed was a small push to send him over.

  “Rena,” he groaned.

  “Yes, Captain, sir?” she mocked. He felt her nibble the sensitive flesh at the juncture of his leg, which caused his hips to jerk up. She placed warm, wet kisses up his abdomen, nibbling each ridge. Moving upward, she swirled her tongue in the dent of his navel and ran it along the dip at the center of his chest.

  Drogan felt her weight on his thighs, her hair tickling his stomach. His aching cockhead brushed the silky softness of her skin. Painful tingles of awareness ran through him.

  “Captain?” she asked, flicking his nipple with her tongue. She sucked the tight nub into her mouth.

  “Shit,” he groaned. He couldn’t remember what he was supposed to say as shards of electricity ran through him, straight to his groin.

  She released his nipple with a soft pop before transferring her attention to the other turgid peak. His back bowed as far as he could go. Another soft pop sounded and he felt the withdrawal of her heat from over him.

  The harsh noise of panting reached his ears. Drogan was shocked to find that he was the one making that sound. His heart was threatening to beat out of his chest, the thumping reverberation deafening to his own ears. He almost didn’t hear the soft, husky chuckle that escaped from Rena, still sitting on his thighs.

  He felt the weight on his legs lift and the glide of soft skin against his hair-roughened legs. The bed dipped and then rose and he heard the soft patter of bare feet on a hard surface. He held his breath in anticipation of what she would do next.

  He heard her return and then he felt the mattress underneath him dip. The weight of her body was on his chest this time. He felt her move above him, the wet heat of her sex against his ribcage. The hardened tips of her nipples pressed against his abdomen. The pressure on his cock was gone and blood flooded his shaft, warmth rushing through it.

  Drogan cried out when he felt his erection surrounded by wet heat. The moisture moved upward and paused. He felt something flick the crest of his shaft before moving downward again and he realized that Rena was giving him a blowjob.

  He moaned as her lips slid down his shaft and paused. For a moment, she didn’t move her head. It was torture to him. He could feel the slide of her saliva slipping over his balls.

  Then she began to move up and then down, the pace slow but pleasurable. She increased the pressure on his erection, sliding her lips against him. He felt himself hit the back of her throat.

  “Rena,” he groaned in a ragged whisper. She was driving him mad, slowly taking away parts of his sanity with every glide of her mouth on his shaft. All he could concentrate on was her mouth and what she was doing to him. Nothing else mattered to him. The ship could be exploding around them and all he could think of was Rena going down on him. He tried to thrust his hips upward but they wouldn’t go any farther.

  Rena started to hum and Drogan barely kept himself from coming. His short fingernails dug into the palms of his hands. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip, drawing blood. He wanted to come so badly it hurt.

  Her lips slid up and down more quickly. Faster and faster her head bobbed, pausing for just a few seconds to lap up the seed that was already leaking from the slit at the top of his cock. Drogan’s stomach tightened, his balls withdrawing into his body, and fire danced its way up his spine until it washed over him in a tidal wave. He came so hard he saw stars on the back of his eyelids. He spurt his hot seed into the moist cave of her mouth.

  She continued to bob her head, milking his shaft for every drop of cum.

  Breathing hard, his heart hammering against his chest and threatening to burst out of him, Drogan tried not to black out completely. He could feel her lapping at his slit. Every brush of her tongue caused little tremors to run through him. He could feel the sweat running over his body, could hear the harsh pant of his breath as it rushed past his lips, filling the strangely silent room. He felt the bindings on his arms and legs loosen.

  His legs fell open and his arms relaxed. Taking slow, deep breaths he tried to calm his heart down.

  He couldn’t hear her anywhere in the room now. He pulled down one arm, wincing as pain lanced up his arm when he tried to get his hand to straighten out. Drogan pulled the blindfold off and opened his eyes.

  The ceiling was not the same as the one in his quarters and the lighting was brighter than on the ship. He sat up. His vision swam and he felt lightheaded. He licked his lips, and his gaze roamed over his surroundings. The room was empty save for a long metallic table, a chair, and the bed he sat on.

  The walls were gray, devoid of paintings or even shelves, which might have made it look like someone lived in the room. A glossy black door was set into the far wall.

  Looking down at the bed, Drogan found he was on a cot covered in a dark red cotton duvet. The bonds that had been holding him down were Taurean leather straps, one of the strongest yet most malleable fabrics found in the five known galaxies. His head moved this way and that as he looked for Rena. There was no sign of her. He slid down to the cold, tiled floor and looked under the bed. She wasn’t there. Much to Drogan’s annoyance, she had disappeared.

  The door opened on well-greased hinges. Drogan hardly heard her enter the room. He jumped as he felt her breasts pressing against his back, her hands coming around to stroke his abdomen.

  “Ready for another round, Captain, sir?” she asked in a low, husky voice.

  He whirled around so quickly she didn’t have time to react. Her arms fell away from him, hanging at her sides. He wrapped his arms around her, keeping her arms pinned to her sides.

  “Payback time, my sweetness,” he growled, his cock becoming semi-hard at the thought of having his way with her.

  A loud knocking could be heard in the distance.

  * * *

  Drogan jerked awake, startled by a cacophony at the door of his quarters. Throwing the covers back, he stomped to the door, his achingly erect cock bobbing with each step, the dream at the forefront of his mind. He wanted to ignore the commotion at his door, climb back into bed, and give Rena the sexual payback she deserved. Instead, he punched the unlock button on the wall panel and was confronted with the real live version of Rena. She was wearing the standard-issue dark red uniform with gold and black piping on the collar, wrists, and hem of the jacket. She stopped arguing with Jason, who looked like he had just woken up too, red hair standing up in all directions, clothing wrinkled, and his pants clearly on backward.

  “Captain, I told her not to bother you. I’ll take care of it,” Jason said, averting his eyes once he realized Drogan was naked.

  Rena swallowed before meeting his eyes.

  “It’s important, sir. The Galactic President wishes to speak to you,” she reported, also looking away.

  Drogan sighed and ran a hand through his hair. The dream would have to wait.

  Chapter Two

  Rena tried to concentrate. Looking down at her notes, she groaned silently and erased the last three sentences before quickly scribbling down the correct information on her tablet. She couldn’t stop thinking of Drogan naked. So far she’d had to correct her notes four times. Instead of writing down the important details of Drogan’s upcoming meeting with the Galactic President, she’d written words like “cock,” “nipples,” and “sexy.” She’d also drawn a small doodle of what looked like a phallus. Rena was horny and lusting after her boss. She knew it wasn’t right and that she should simply let go of her infatuation with him, but she just couldn’t. Every day she saw him, and every day she found something new to adore about him.

  He was a good man, decent, hard working, fair, loyal, and sexy as hell. Long, thin, dark brown braids trailed over his back, down to his waist. What seemed like a permanent five o’clock shadow dusted his jaw, making his cheeks more defined. Just the thought of those dark whiskers brushing against the inside of her thighs as he ate her o
ut made her squeeze her legs together, her pussy tingling with awareness and need as her nipples hardened behind the rough fabric of her uniform.

  She thought she had at least gotten some of her sexual frustration out when she’d gone to the Fantasy Spa. Instead, the experiences seemed to have intensified as of late.

  On top of it all, Jason Mercy seemed to be showing some interest in her for some reason. Last time she checked, she was still Rena Morrigan. She was still the plain woman whom hardly anyone noticed. She still had large brown eyes, a nose she felt was too large for her face, and lips that were too full. Her face was a simple oval, hair a really dark brown, her best feature she felt—a clear mocha complexion. That was, in her mind, the only thing going for her.

  She couldn’t understand why Jason Mercy would give her a second glance. He was probably desperate since he’d gone through most of the female crew members. She was the last one left he hadn’t slept with. Well, that wasn’t quite true. There was Alexa, but she was married to Daniella, so Jason didn’t have a shot in hell with her or her wife.

  Rena hated to think she was basically a pity-fuck to Jason. She sighed inwardly. Drogan didn’t see her, and Jason thought of her as his final conquest. She was beginning to wish she had stayed on Elysian 8. At the spa there had been much less to think about, much less to ignore.

  “Yes, Rena will send you my itinerary. We plan on stopping by Earth and then heading off to the Green Zone.” Drogan was looking at her, an eyebrow raised in question. He must have noticed her zoning out.

  Swallowing quickly, she bent her head and started scribbling nonsense like mad to look busy.

  Five minutes later the teleconference was finished and she stood up quickly to leave.

  “Rena,” Drogan began.

  Her shoulders slumped, nipples painfully hard nubs, panties soaked, and she wished that the air con was on because she was feeling feverish. She didn’t think she could bear a one-on-one conversation just now.