Match, point... game

Chapter twelve:
Cryo never works

Warning! Chapter not intended for children!

Cryo was a fucked up system that she personally didn’t like. Though it worked it was disturbing how quickly you went under and how the machine kept you alive, and not your own body. But it was the best way to get from systems to systems, considering that there were millions, sometimes billions, of miles between them and their destination. It worked simply, it pumped your body full of two main chemicals, both of which George had no idea of the names, but one was red, like blood thick and opaque, and the other was a sickly pale blue that looked like thinned paint. What was worse was that blue one was the active ingredient that was put straight into the vein after mixing with some of the red. She remembered vaguely being told the red one was the one that informed your brain not to freak out and the blue was the one that slowed all bodily functions down to almost nil.

It was, in essence, suspended animation for humans. All of your brain is supposed to shut down, but for some there is a side effect, a side effect that didn’t function on her but she had heard things of Riddick. Where the primitive side of the mind, the animal side, was always awake and aware of everything going on around the person put under. So as she watched Riddick rig up the system, his fingers working over the tubes and the gauntlets that had needles to go straight into their arms, she wondered suspiciously if she could trust him while she was so far gone. He had yet to do something horrible to her, but there was still the air of extreme distrust around him and around her. Killers don’t change, just like the rest of the world. He really should just cut her up and jettison her out into space so that she could never tell anyone about what had transpired here and where he was going. She was very confused as to why she was still breathing and physically animate.

George sat with her legs crossed on the grating of the haul where several seats were located for just this kind of occasion. She would be sleeping in this area whereas he would be in the head, in case if anyone came upon them in cryo he’d be the first to wake up and begin immediate maneuvers to lose their pursuers. Her brown eyes followed his fingers as they attached one large tube into the gauntlet and began to make computer adjustments to her weight and height, her lips pursed in thought. Riddick really was much smarter than he looked and that was saying something. To her he radiated an air of cleverness, deadly keenness that spelt danger for anyone else around him, but the mere fact that a sharp, critical mind was held within that bald head and protected by that mass of hulking body made her blink a few times in astonishment. He was an oxymoron when you examined him close enough.

It occurred to her in those moments that these could be some of the last hours she spent with Riddick. Though that didn’t matter really all that much she didn’t try to tell herself that she would be impartial to their parting. He was an interesting man that had managed to hold her interest, and that alone was saying something. Usually she got bored with men and decided that they weren’t worth her time, she had jobs to do and besides, love and that kinda shit were for people intending to have a family. She couldn’t imagine raising a kid with the kind of lifestyle she led. It would be a death sentence for both of them… maybe that’s why Noah left when he had.

“I hate cryo sleep,” she whispered.

Riddick paused only momentarily to acknowledge he’d heard her but didn’t answer. So she took that as he hated it to. Maybe that was just wishful thinking.

George sighed deeply and stared out of the window’s at the head, watching as the stars remained ever out of reach and yet coming slowly closer. It was strange to stare out at them and know that there was still many, many millions of miles between her and them and that man had just begun to explore their systems. Spotted a small planet with two larger moons orbiting it, nearly dwarfing its size, but still she could see the unmistakable dark blue that was the orbs seas of life. She stared wistfully at it a moment, her heart aching strangely in a way that it had not in years.

“My people used to pray to my planets twin moons every night at midnight, when they were at their peaks and the tides were high and full,” George murmured, not even thinking on that she was saying these things aloud. When Riddick stopped his movements and she could feel his eyes slide to her from the corners of his goggles she suppressed a bitter smile, her arms coming to rest on her knees. Her vision went dark and hazy with the flashes of her home’s pristine waters, rolling waves, and pure white beaches that glittered fantastically in the systems singular bright sun. “It was in our religion. Praise the moons that gave us the tides and the water that covered a good half of our planet, making it the fantastic little rock it was. The moons were king and out entire economy and lifestyles revolved around them, the study of the stars and other systems was regarded as the highest of possible honors in our culture. We did not fight, there was no need. My people had seen what war did to others, to our neighbors and friends, and abandoned any form of bickering amongst the sister worlds.

“That’s not to say that we didn’t have weapons or our own styles of fighting,” George commented, shaking her head. She paused and looked down at her weathered hands and scowled, her teeth momentarily showing in agitation. “But that didn’t help when they came. My father… he was an architect, one of the most respected in our quadrant of the planet on the biggest island nation of us all; he was also a politician and a shop owner. Though we didn’t live a wealthy life like some would assume, we were middle class, lower middle, barely scrapping by with what he made from his jobs. My mother died giving birth to my brother, Noah,” she heard Riddick shift and sit down, fixing her with a telling stare through his glasses. She wasn’t allowed to stop now that she had started. She didn’t know why she had… it had just started flowing from her.

The shock of her having a brother didn’t show on Riddick’s face but she could tell that he was slightly stunned. It was the way that his shoulders were harder and less relaxed than they normally were, more bunched, she was nervous that she was now able to tell when he was anxious or not. Rolling her neck from side to side to relieve the tension building there the red head licked her lips while closing her brown eyes. “Noah was perfect in my eyes, and in my fathers. He was so small, even when he was older, and his hair was the most interesting shade of blond I’d ever seen. He was smart and clever, he could solve any problem you gave to him and yet he had absolutely no common sense. He took after our father, whereas I took after my mother.

“I wasn’t particularly good at anything when I was home there. Not in my opinion, but I studied art and sculpture, drawing and painting, and became intimately knowledgeable of the human structure and systems. I made little money doing that during out time on Artemis so I mostly worked at a local market to help make ends meet. I was fifteen when they came to our system after taking over the neighboring star and planets.

“They came as they often do, in the form of a comet, ushering in whispers and fright in their wake,” George paused and ran a hand over her face, hating to remember just what that silver shinning streak looked like and just what danger and destruction it held within its glory. How something that had been so beautiful in its decent have been so horrible? That was the night that she had stopped trusting her eyes and started to trust her gut, her gut at least was right the majority of the time. She glanced up to see Riddick staring at her with furrowed brows, his large mouth surprisingly pursed in a thoughtful look. She noticed him raise a single eyebrow before she leaned back on her hands and cocked her head to the side, a sarcastic, empty, sardonic grin ripping across her features. “Necromongers, the worst kind of plague this universe has. The council of all of the system was on the planet that week, meeting with all of the politician’s and discussing a course of action that did not involve war. Even then I knew it, that they were weak, that the necromongers only responded to violence and that a surrender would do nothing but get us killed faster. There was also speaks of some incredibly stupid fools who said the Necro’s didn’t exist, that it was just a passing comet, there was nothing to fear. They were wrong…

“A week after the comet first came into the sights of my people several different pieces broke off and attacked the four main islands that scattered the seas. They’d come purely for resources, and when the main tower contacted a few yards from my house I took my brother along with my father and fled to the emergency pod that had been waiting out back. My father had seen it coming, had known, had been one of the ones secretly ushering people offworld to the waiting space and then to freedom from the coming hordes. They killed; I could see the lights flashing and the dark matter that they used purging the streets of occupants, and just as the skiffs door was closing a blinding flash entered my vision and my father fell to the floor in a bloodied crumpled mass.

“I did the only thing I could do. With necromonger soldiers advancing on the skiff and with weapons drawn, pointed at me and my brother,” George faltered slightly, pushing her hair from her face with a snarl.

“You kicked your old man’s body from the rear hatch and took off,” Riddick finished for her. His voice was blank, as unreadable as his features, and she couldn’t tell if he was disgusted by her or respected her for her instinct to survive the ordeal and get herself and her brother out of there. He nodded at her to continue, the air heavy and thick, making it hard to breathe.

George had decided a few days ago now that Riddick could hear her stupid little story. It wasn’t like this mattered. She didn’t want his pity and he wouldn’t give it to her so it was fine either way, and he couldn’t come back and use it against her since they were both in agreement. If either one came looking for the other they had all the permission in the world to try and kill them, even if they were unsuccessful. So when she felt the heat of his stare, demanding her continuance, she smirked and leaned against a wall of the haul and stared out again into space; anywhere but those dark goggles that didn’t show what he thought of it all. She didn’t know why his approval mattered, when it really didn’t, but to her subconscious she supposed she wanted to have his respect and admiration. She was barking up the wrong tree and she knew it.

“We fled from the planet barely. We’d been hit by a fighter jet from the Necroshit’s and were leaking fuel when we managed to get into the shipping lanes. Luckily we were picked up by some pirates and I was able to wager our way to an Alliance planet,” George didn’t stop to say what but Riddick knew and she could tell by the small shifting he made and the crease the formed on his brow. “I did what I had to do to get us to our new home. We were dropped off at an alliance station, just above New Spain, and were immediately picked up as Artemis survivors by the state there. We were given supplementary housing and food stamps.

“That didn’t do jack shit. Me and Noah could hardly survive off of that stuff and since I was barely of age to work and with no history, records having been left on Artemis with my father, it took me a long time to find a job. And the job sucked… I was a bookkeeper at some shop for spices and weapons. I can’t tell you how many times we got robbed just in those first few months, but I quickly lost my taste for the place and found myself out on my ass with a little kid still to feed. I was running out of options quick and it had already been a year living in poverty like we had. We couldn’t’ make it much longer on what we were being given, and New Spain was threatening to take away our free housing and half of our stamps. That’s when my new job… my calling came to me.

“It happened as it often does I guess. I caught a flyer outside of a local bar that had the picture of a local thug and a price listed at the bottom for his head, not alive, but dead. I hesitated. To kill was something completely different. I knew I could do it, human’s lives are fragile at best, and I knew all of the weak spots on the form. But I couldn’t do it. Something in me couldn’t make me do it. Until the night I spotted one of ‘em on New Spain… scouting out the streets and marking them in some little notebook. A necromonger, there to do some ground work for a coming invasion… I’d been repairing floaters at the time and it just kinda happened, the first hit became a blur of others and soon I was covered in blood and brain tissue and I was exhausted. A wicked thrill went through me at that moment and something in me, I dunno, just changed for good,” George once again stopped and glanced over to Riddick sidelong, her mouth firming up into a thin line.

Riddick tilted his head slightly and she could tell that he was ticking through all of his kills to get back to the first. Normally, like with George, the first kill stood out in someone’s mind. It was the one that turned you into what kind of fighter you would become. If it was violent and bloody, filled with rage and a smoldering hatred, you became like George, uncontrollable, wild, and liable to snap your neck as soon as look at you. If it was controlled, planned, and precise, then you became like he was. He looked back up to her with a small quirking of his lips. “Yea, I remember mine all right. That same thrill, didn’t think it would happen. I used to hear voices in my head when I was little, not that insane shit where they put you on pills, but a constant urge to fight and all that shit…”

George winced but agreed all the same. She had heard that same kind of voice in the first few days after she’d seen that flyer. It had been so logical, so exacting, and so right. She wondered who she would have been if she hadn’t listened. “Needless to say from then on I didn’t care about killing. If I got to fuck up some more Necromongers all the better, and that was how I became a hired hand and murderer. The business was good, a lot of people wanted someone else dead, and I slowly worked my up from petty thieves and snitches from crime syndicates to politicians and influential big shots. The money came rolling in and we were able to support ourselves no problem. By the time Noah was fifteen as well and I was nineteen though it seems he had learned what I did and had had enough. He didn’t see it the same way I did, he hated what I do, hated me for doing what I did to make sure we lived and not die because of the damn government. We had an argument and he walked out on me after all I’d been through, after I had started this shit for him.

“I got the fuck outta dodge after that. Went offworld and onto bigger and better
trophies. Better ones got the bigger risks though and I got sloppy and landed myself in my first Slam. Some frozen hell hole in the Furyan system,” George didn’t catch the darkening on Riddick’s face when she said that nor did she see him flex his fingers idly in though. Her eyes glazed over and she bit her lower lip hard to where a small amount of blood drizzled from the wounded area. “I… wasn’t ready for the prison yet. I wasn’t like I am now, I wasn’t hard and sure of myself. I got beat up on a regular basis and the male inmates weren’t exactly understanding of my situation. It took me a while but the Slam changed me, turned me into something even killing that monger didn’t do, turned me into who I am today. Don’t know if that’s a good thing though,” she smirked bitterly.

“So what about your brother?” Riddick suddenly chipped in. George tossed her hair over her shoulders, staring at the bald man skeptically and pondering why he would care. Could he hear the distaste in her voice whenever she spoke of that traitor? Or was it that he could smell her fury and her betrayal at thinking on the blond mass of hair and amber eyes she had once loved.

George gritted her teeth in a snarl before thumping the ground hard with her fist. “The little shit gave me away! I was on a mission to kill some high up president of a council for the Ichon systems, a sweet deal where I would get a good two million creds for the job and then an extra three if I made it look like it was the opposing party that did it to him. I had gotten in touch with Noah after two years of looking and told him what area of space I was in, not even the damn solar, and said that I was trying to turn over a new leaf. Karma bit me in the ass in the form of some Necromongers that were pissed cause I’d killed a few twenty here and there over the years and they nearly killed me in return.” She lifted her shirt and showed him the large blade scar that ran from her hip to her breast with a disgusted look on her face.

Then she sobered and she looked down at the ground while shaking her head. Her expression told him all he needed to know. Betrayal like that ran deep in the veins and made the blood heavy and almost impossible to move. It made your soul and body refuse to go on and nearly want to die from the agony it went through. He’d felt that once before and refused to feel it again.

George swore under her breath and tried to resist the urge to cry like the stinging in her eyes and the lump in her throat were telling her. Instead, she relied on something she was used to, the need for violent. So instead she slammed her elbow behind her into the haul’s wall, causing a loud clang to sound and her bone to shriek in defiance and horror at her actions, but she didn’t care. With a shaking voice she continued, “He converted to their side. Seems he’d gotten doped up, addicted to some bad shit… became a merc and got caught on New Germany when it was taken. They recognized his last name as mine, traced his DNA to our father, and used him to get to me… he converted to save his own ass and end mine. I’ll never forgive him,” she whispered heatedly.

Riddick didn’t move or speak and she was unnerved by that and at the same time grateful. She wasn’t sure what she would have done if he had laughed at her or rebutted her for her stupid angst ridden past. She was working on putting it all behind her, it wasn’t the past that made her, she was George now, and nothing would change that. Nothing. Instead, all he did was to stare at her as if she was something new to consider. That feeling of being analyzed she hadn’t felt since their first few meetings and she pondered how she ranked up now. Had her position changed or was it the same? Had it fallen or risen? Or had he lost respect for her because of how she had gotten into the business. Then again, why should she care? He was a hypocrite if he didn’t approve, he did the same damn thing she did. The only difference was that Riddick had been caught more times and that he was older by like six years.

“At least you had a family,” he suddenly stated roughly. That roused George from all seething thoughts of her brother and her head slowly turned all the way to face him, her head tilting to the side and her brown orbs blazing with interest at what he’d just said. But he didn’t expound upon it but instead stood and dusted off his pants rear before going back to work on the cryo, leaving George in the loop and to brood on what he’d said.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

They say that most of your brain shuts down in cryo sleep… All but the primitive side; the animal side, the Furyan side. It was no wonder why he was never asleep during the effects of the drug. Riddick’s silver eyes were half hooded, between the stages of sleep and awareness, just barely awake but enough to know if something went wrong and to be aware constantly of his surroundings. It still had the effect of slowing down his body to where it didn’t crave food or water, to where it did nothing but hibernate softly, it was just that his brain was different. He was very singular from everyone else.

The beeping of the cryo machine attached to his arm, piercing into the flesh and pumping him full of the chemicals that so altered him, were the only thing that filled his ears besides the sister sounds of the one down the hall from him. His heart he could feel beating slowly, softly; he remembered still when he had first been put into cryogenic slumber. He had freaked out, had thought he was going to die because of how lazily his rhythm had become and how odd his reaction to the drug was compared to what he’d been told would happen. Now it was merely an annoyance that kept him drifting in and out of real sleep. It was a wonder what one could adapt to given time and necessity. He personally hated the mindset his brain slipped into during this time. Riddick thought of things he shouldn’t, or rather, wouldn’t when he was in normal mode. Like one of them right now had to do with the red head down the way.

The fellow murderer, assassin, bad ass, animal… she was perfectly sick and twisted and wrong. Just like him. Her voice was like liquid metal, cutting, filling, deathly, and those burning brown eyes were something entirely different than anything Riddick had found in a woman. He had seen that look many times in wolves or big cats, analyzing, constantly wondering what to do next, what to kill next, where their next meal would come from, and whether or not to kill you for getting to close to them. It belied such a sharp wit and powerful mind, that hard and female form, that Riddick couldn’t help but growl whenever he thought about it. And her form, oh god her body. The most alluring thing about George had not been her looks, she was average and in all reality not his type, was not only her attitude that he loved to force to bend to his but her stomach. So tight, so taught, line after line of muscle and chiseled strength from years of training, and then littered with awful, garish scars that took away any of the flawless beauty that would have existed there. Those scars were what he was really attracted to. It showed she was a fighter, that she had killed and nearly been killed many times.

Her blood tasted like fire hot copper with a twang of something sweet. Riddick’s eyes fluttered for a second at the thought of how her thick, crimson life fluid hit the back of his throat whenever he bit into her neck or arm or even breast during their harried and violent sessions. But she by all means had her infuriating parts. Such as her moodiness. Riddick had nearly forgotten why he didn’t travel with a female, it was because they could go from interesting and bearable to vicious, annoying, and flat out bitches. He remembered during his time with George why he traveled alone.

His mind slammed on the picture of a naked George from their latest coupling arching into his touch, her body sprawled out under him, and the sting of her nails surging down his arms. Those damn red curls sprayed out around her face, wild and untamed, and sweat shimmering on her body and running down her marked up form in small rivets. Then her lips parted and hissed his name followed by a groan and he had been done with a frustrated growl, digging his large fingers into her small hips and forcing her over the edge with a powerful and jarring thrust. She was beautiful in her moment of completion, holding onto him for dear life while letting out breathy noises that were feminine and yet not at the same time, guttural and prowling… He had known that last time that she was having too much of an effect on him to stay even if they hadn’t agreed to drop her off at Ihram. She could grow on him and become another Jack, another attachment, and he wouldn’t let that happen.

Riddick wouldn’t let himself be hurt like that again, ever again. Nor would he let someone precious die. George had the chance of getting near to him and he wasn’t going to let her get hurt as well as himself. It was better for both of them to just let whatever the hell had exploded between them die and fade away to nothing but simmering embers. Oh but the animal wanted nothing more than to keep her by him and make sure that no one else had a chance at his hell cat. The primitive side of Riddick wanted to chain George to him and have his way with her whenever he possibly could and to kill any other guy that so much as looked at his territory. The man and the animal so conflicted made it hard for the person they lived within to think.

So instead of causing himself more of a headache his mind switched over to the second most annoying thing to think about. Replaying Kyra’s death over and over in his head. Her face when she had hit the pillar and had been impaled upon the protruding metal barbs was what haunted him most. She had gasped in pain and for air, her eyes widening and the brown orbs becoming little more than specs in the mass of white, while her lips had turned an awful shade of red, blood drizzling from the side. Her skin had gone ashen and her entire body had gone cold as she had been lying in his arms, murmuring her undying loyalty to him. Stupid girl… he thought bitterly, trying to block the images from his mind. She shouldn’t have done it, she shouldn’t have sacrificed herself just for him. He didn’t deserve it, never had never would. The fact that she had died, someone like Jack… images of Jack, the Jack, not Kyra, came to mind. What she would have been like had she never met Riddick, never got on that ship. Tall, leggy, with long curly hair and bright, laughing brown eyes; someone so much more righteous and pure than him.

Riddick had nearly died more times than he could count. Why was it that he kept living when he really, sometimes, wanted to die more than he could say? It wasn’t that he was suicidal, he’d passed that time in his life when he was twelve for those two days, but he sure as hell didn’t like the life he led. People got hurt around him and not those that were meant to get hurt either, but innocent people. Like Kyra, like Imam, like Fry… it was an odd feeling to know that you couldn’t have friends, that you couldn’t have anyone be precious to you or they’d die someway somehow. He’d tried to save them, he’d stayed away for five years, and the second he comes back to look for them, out of spite mind you, they both perished. Jack… so much like a little sister, like someone to always look after… he’d never make that mistake ever again.

No such thing as a lover or a friend. Not in his world. They weren’t meant for someone like him. The fates had it in for him to never be happy. His destiny was to always fight, to always struggle, to shed blood wherever he went. He wondered who would do him in at the end. Would he be an old man in a Slam, too weakened by old age to bust out, or would some random little rookie manage to stab him and he’d bleed out? Being shot was also a definite possibility… Karma would be a bitch to him.

His eyes flittered open again, finding that his mind had wandered for what felt like hours. The shinning silver orbs stared glassily through the darkness of the consol to the time display, ETA displayed in bold red letters just before him. Riddick focused his vision enough, forcing the side effect of cryo from the fogs of his mind, and stared at the ticking seconds and minutes. What he saw didn’t surprise him but he was startled that he had come to early. They were four days from Ihram and from George leaving, where he would go off alone and isolate himself once more. They wouldn’t see each other again, wouldn’t try to find the other, and would probably not think of the other after a few months. Riddick’s eyes fully opened at that last thought and his brow furrowed. Like hell he was going to let that happen. If he was going to part with someone he’d been fucking for long he’s gonna make sure he leaves his damn mark.

The vastness of space was extended before him, busted up only by the coming system and its rotating planets. Annoying beeping once more broke the silence and he turned to his cry band, shifting in his chair and debating what to do next. If he let the cry take him again then he might wake up at port, and that wouldn’t be a good thing. Though if he did let it take him semi back under then they would save on food and power, he would save on food and power. His gaze darkened and his primitive mindset snapped into place firmly, the drug still holding off the rational side of his brain, but even then he knew that Riddick the man would agree to his plan. There were plenty of ways to take up four days, and he knew just how to do it.

Ripping the gauntlet off, not even wincing at the small hole that stood there and was welting up red, he span his chair and stared down into the dark hall before him. The lights were dimmed down to little more than twenty percent, more than enough for him to remove his goggles and for George to see at the same time, but not enough that someone just walking into the ship would be comfortable. He spotted the flash of rusty crimson down the way, strapped into a chair with her head lolled back and her body completely and totally relaxed. The glow of her wrist band caught his eye and the florescent sheen of the cryo meds going into her body was like a beckon to his senses. Riddick’s attention focused solely on her, his entire body rippling with a sudden need that he hadn’t experienced in a while, before he unhooked himself from his chair and stood with a smooth graceful motion. Predatory instinct took over, much like when he was hunting someone before killing them. George wouldn’t know what hit her…

Licking his lips in anticipation Riddick stalked down through the metal hall from the head to the haul, running his hands along the narrow passageway. Glowing silver eyes never lost track of where she was, sitting there sprawled out, her breathing almost nonexistent and her face as peaceful as he had ever seen it. Coming before her with a low rumble in his chest he looked her over through the cargos, straps, and long sleeve, she looked almost innocent sitting there asleep and unaware of just who was standing before her. This wasn’t the man that she had come to know, oh no, this was the animal that the man had kept under lock and key while around her except in their wild coupling once or twice. She looked so innocent, pure, and unassuming of what was going to happen to her that it was very capable of forgetting just what she was and who she was. He’d done some research on her during the times where she went off on her own… Georgina Collins it seemed was quite the little gun for hire. Last year alone she had killed over two major political figures as well as a few number of necromongers and just about anyone that ‘crossed’ her. George had a rap sheet a mile wide and three long, a heartless murderer and killer of men and women alike. Yet asleep like this and she was weak, like any other person out there, and not the strong, kick ass powerhouse that was far weaker than him to begin with.

Riddick took his shiv from off of his hip and stared at the blade before turning back to the passed out woman. She wouldn’t wake up unless her body was either in one extreme or another, pleasure or pain. Should he just slit her throat? He’d been having this conversation in his head for many days now. It would be better for her to just end her life here seeing as how she now had a palpable, physical link to him. She could get picked up by mercs, tortured, raped, then killed when she didn’t say anything. It would be much more humane to just end her life here and now so that the Alliance wouldn’t do horrible things to her. Then again… for some reason he didn’t want to kill her. There was something about her; he just wouldn’t bring himself to do it. So instead he kneeled down and pressed the sharp, cold edge to her throat and slowly slid it down, watching the sleeping skin shiver in response.

His eyes roved her body quickly, hungrily, before he brought his nose deep into the crook of her neck, hands busy pushing up her thin long sleeves. The contours of her stomach melded against his calloused digits, pliable and soft, relaxed, as compared to her usual high level of tense and alertness when he was around. Taking her scent deep into his nose he bit at the soft skin of her nape, watching with rapt eyes as the skin flushed an instinctual dark red. When his fingertips hit the softness of her bra clad chest, having bought a new one on that damn space station, he slid in closer, nudging her legs apart and settling his torso between them. Riddick pulled from her neck, taking a final whiff of her smell once more, before pushing her shirt up under her chin and staring at her exposed stomach.

The scars were tight and taught even in her relaxed position, shiny in the limited light. He traced a finger up the long, gash like one and watched in satisfaction, primal and possessive, when her stomach muscles clenched and shivered at the motion. Wasting no time he clamped a hand down on the junction of her spread legs, listening when even in cryo her deepened breath hitched just barely. Tearing his gaze away from her bared and powerful midsection he brought his shiv to her belt and undid it with a flick of the blade, careful not to destroy the leather. Riddick pulled the damn thing off and threw it aside before pulling the button open and staring at what little of her hips were revealed with the motion. The cut, that powerful cut of bone, made him growl darkly then run his mouth over the sharp curves of muscle and prowess. Sounds of a zipper being pulled down filled the quiet of the haul, making the tightness of the pants around her hips lessen considerably and reveal her all the way down to the nest of starting curls. With the opening of her cargos an even more powerful version of her smell entered and filled the passenger car, pressing at his nostrils and hitting him in the chest and abs, forcing a heat to start to pool faster and heavier between his legs.

Riddick took his sweet time pulling off her combat boots and socks, flinging them away when they were untied and off, before he smoothed his hands down her stomach again. When they dipped onto her hips and under her loosed cargos he shifted backwards and pushed them off of George’s form completely, over her long muscled legs and feeling the freshly shaved skin smooth under his touch. With the obtrusive and unwanted garment gone he settled himself once more between her legs, looking graciously upon the already slightly aroused slit between his demon’s legs. The cryo beeped momentarily, informing the sleeper that there had been a change in temperature and slightly lessened the dosage of her chemicals, nothing too much, she was still deep under. And still under his complete control…

It was a power trip to realize that George was like this… so powerless, so weak, so unresponsive that if he did decide that he wanted to kill her then she wouldn’t be able to do a shit thing about it. She was his, all his, and there was nothing she could do or say to change it. Riddick separated her folds and watched as a muscle in her thighs twitched, her toes curling slightly. Confidently the Furyan dipped his head down and placed his face between her legs, his tongue ghosting over his mouth in anticipation. Riddick didn’t usually like going down on a woman, he didn’t much like the taste and it was a form of affection in his eyes, something he didn’t show. It meant that he liked the person enough to even think about it. But something about doing this to George was like him claiming her, bringing her to such a point of frenzied pleasure to where she would almost be screaming, it brought out the animal in him. This way she saw just what he could do to her. This way she saw just what was going to leave her life and that no other guy could ever stack up. He was cocky, he’d be the first to admit it, but he had a right to be.

Nudging his nose against opening of her slit, pulled apart by his large fingers, he took in the smell of what could only be a woman. He let out a growl from deep within his chest, his arms now looping around her thighs while shifting to where he would be comfortable. His lips opened and closed around her opening and clit, dragging the skin in and sucking on it for a brief second before repeating the process deliberately. Instantly George’s sleeping form tensed up and a small noise escaped her mouth but she didn’t wake, instead the cryo gauntlet merely beeped warningly at him. Ignoring the flash of less medication being put into his victim he nudged his nose against her clit before running his tongue from the very end near her anus all the way up to the top of her fold, lapping at the liquid that was starting to drip outwards.

His… was all Riddick could think as his tongue once again repeated the process, his fingers digging into her thighs to where he felt the blood vessels under rupture and the purple beginning to form. Teeth met with the sensitive bundle at the very top of her fold and her hips bucked from her slumber, another, more instant noise came from her sleeping throat. He bit at the pearl until it was red and swollen and then latched onto it, sucking as close to gently as he could get. With a flick of his tongue a long, hissing breath escaped Georgina and her thighs twitched, trying to move to close around the thing giving her pleasure. Riddick enjoyed the sudden flood of liquid coming from the opening below while his tongue lapped and lashed at the bud, nipping at it here and there and forcing it to become hard and overly sensitive to where if she’d been lucid she’d be whimpering in that wonderful way…

Riddick pulled from the bundle with a small popping noise, kissing at it a few times again before forcing his tongue against the bottom and dragging it forcefully upwards, her hips arching instinctually at the motion. Drawing away from the swollen area he pressed his lips downwards, sucking on whatever skin he could get into his mouth, before he was presented with her dripping opening. Her arousal was powerful and sent shockwaves through his body, making every muscle twitch and his body scream for him to just pull down his pants and slam into her. No… he wanted her to wake up when she was just inches from the brink of orgasm, confused but blissful, and to cry out his name. Fucking her senseless could wait until then. Good thing he was a patient guy.

His tongue abruptly went from skimming around the open and ready entrance to delving deep into the hotness that awaited. He glanced up with his shinning silver eyes to see George’s face screw up and her hands grip into fists, a moan escaping her lips. Riddick focused on the task at hand, curling his tongue within his partner and then pushing it back down, fiddling with the ridged walls as they steadily became thicker. Her taste was different from any other woman he’d done this to but exactly the same, it was difficult to categorize. She was still musky, like all sexual fluids it had a heady taste that was thick and strong and took a long time to get used to, but it was also undeniably George. It was her essence in a sense and as he pulled out only to drag his tongue over the opening, taking all of the liquid with him and purring in his throat before returning to his pursuit, he wondered what kind of guy would get the hell cat to settle down in the future.

Her breathing was getting shallower and the cryo was now hissing and beeping up a storm, letting out a warning that something was wrong with the recipient. Riddick merely pulled one hand off of her thighs, leaving bruised finger marks in his place, and brought his thumb to rub gruffly over her bundle of nerves at the head of her mound. The third brush of his thumb and the increased pressure of his wet organ now pushing at the nub that existed within her entrance caused a loud groan to escape her lips. With a click he could hear the cry turn itself off and her body began to writhe in response to his stimulation.

“Shit…” a breathless murmur came from the red heads mouth but Riddick merely pressed his thumb harder into her clit and forced her hips to arch harshly. Her opening was starting to tighten with each and every lash of his tongue and when he pulled away to lap at the entrance, enjoying how the skin shivered in appreciation, another moan came crashing from her mouth. Hot, searching hands came down onto his head, rubbing it and holding it into place while her thighs came around his powerful shoulders.

George’s brown eyes flickered open in confusion at to why she was suddenly awake. But the confusion was replaced by ripping pleasure as she gasped and swore openly, hands running down to grip at what was making her body shiver all over. Her mouth opened into a loud moan and her hips grinded into the hot mouth that was latched between her legs, the unmistakable slickness of someone’s tongue slipping forcefully in and out of her. She rolled her head, still in the throws of the chemicals, and stared blearily down at the bald head and mass of muscle that was feasting on her like she was his last meal.

“Fuck… Riddick…?” George’s voice filtered down to him and he grinned maliciously against her folds. He angled his tongue and struck at the area just behind the nub where the walls became slightly soft. Any questions she had been about to voice were drowned and her body arched up in shock and bliss. Her grip on his head became harder and when her thighs began to clench painfully around him, her breathing little more than gasps and whines, he knew that she was dangerously close.

Riddick pulled from her entrance, dragging his tongue out with a deliberate throat groan from his throat, reveling in the taste of his partner, before letting go of her other thigh and angling his fingers to replaced his lips. His head rose up and came level with hers, licking himself clean of her juices while her glazed over brown eyes stared at him in ecstasy and still traces of confusion as to why he had felt the need to just randomly get up and do this. She didn’t get a chance to voice her befuddlement before her head tossed to the side and a cry emitted from her throat, her feet curling into a point while her chest heaved, her stomach starting to clench along with the rest of her body. His lips found hers gruffly, slamming his mouth atop of her still shocked one. She returned it fiercely however and as his fingers slammed in and out of her, stroking and scissoring within her now river moist core that was starting to seep into the chair she was sitting in, her arms came to clamp around his neck.

With a final thrust of his fingers and a bruising push of his thumb George pulled from him with a loud, keening moan, throwing her head back all the way while her body arched up, rigid and stiff. Her breathing was in shallow, held pants and her thighs began to shake, her opening closing like a vice around his fingers. A fresh cascade of hot, sticky liquid poured from the shivering woman who was holding onto Riddick’s arms for dear life, letting out the most marvelous noises that he would never expect to come from someone as hard as her. Riddick thrust his nose into her neck and trailed up her hair line to her ear, taking in the emotions that were flashing through her like wildfire with a fire raging in his gut. His name left her lips in a gasp during her moment of complete and total surrender, sweat glittering on her oversensitive body.

“Jesus…” Georgina whispered when her body calmed down and she was left as a hurriedly breathing puddle in her chair, holding limply onto the strong, thick arms of the man that had done this perfectly. Her orbs flashed up to him, licking her lips subconsciously and taking stock of the fact that he was now coming to a crouch and looking at her the same way he always did before he took her as hard as she could handle. “What was that for…?” she whispered shakily, running a hand still attached to cryo through her sweat streaked curls.

“I wanted to,” he rumbled before pulling his fingers from her and leaving her there shaking. He took her wrist in his hand and pulled the cryo off, her arm forming a similar welt of red as his own. There was much left for them to ‘do’ during the next four days, she wouldn’t be needing to go into cryogenic slumber again.

“Are we there?” George asked, trying to push him away but her body was still weak from the shock of waking up early, from the drugs, and from the orgasm she’d just been given out of no where. When Riddick didn’t move she flopped her arms across her chest and glared balefully at him, her mouth forming into a slight snarl. Though it was a nice way to wake up she didn’t like that he was acting all high and mighty with her right now.

“No, we’re four days off from your little destination,” he commented with a small nod towards the countdown that was displayed in the head. George stared at him like he’d gone crazy for a moment, gaping like a fish, before swatting at his hands that were now trying to get her to stand up.

Throwing an accusing finger at him, though her body still simmered with acute arousal that only Riddick seemed able to produce in her, she growled low in her throat dangerously. “Why the hell? Was there something wrong!? There better be something wrong!” she snapped peevishly. She hated cryo, so to know that not only had she been put under it but that she’d been woken up from it early made her blood boil for something other than sex. Her glare spoke his death on many levels but before she could dive at him, because his silence said it all, he grabbed her by the back and knees, hoisting her into the air and tossing her over his shoulder, before walking towards the bedroom.

“Only thing wrong is we’re not in the bed yet, Georgie. Hope you’re ready,” he glowered at her before the door slid open. Her struggling became nil and he could smell both the abrupt interest, shock, fear, and annoyance mix together into an intoxicating mixture. He ordered the lights off yet again and entered, throwing his partner down on the bed before ripping his tank top off, his body searing for its own attention.