Killer Instincts

~ And here lie the adult situations. Thanks to Alaira for the Beta read! ~

Chapter 7: Giving In to Temptation


In the end, he knew he wouldn’t refuse her. When a woman like that offered herself up, you didn’t refuse. A woman like Cat was fussy, but Riddick had a feeling she knew how to reward successful ‘suitors’. He followed her trail down the hallway, knowing exactly where she had gone before her unique scent confirmed it for him. Riddick paused only briefly outside the door of the room she had taken for herself, and then he raised a hand to knock. He wasn’t certain why. Manners and himself weren’t always the cosiest of companions. A smile caught his lips as he heard her tell him the door was not locked, well before his fist even touched the door frame. He touched the metal barrier, and it slid open with a rush of cool air.

She lay there on her bunk, stretched out over the covers like a puma dozing in the sun. Her head was raised, her body bare. The angle at which she lay showed off every curve of her slight body to perfection, the position orchestrated to achieve just that. She wasn’t entirely certain she was doing the right thing, but living a life so full of confusion, fear and death, Cat knew the right thing was not always the best thing. Regret of opportunities denied haunted the soul more viciously than the regret of what was done. What was done was a certainty. What had been denied left that nagging ‘what if?’.

Riddick leaned forward enough to remove his boots, throwing them into a corner one at a time before moving closer to the bunk in nothing now but his already loosened trousers.

“There is this old Earth song,” she said after a moment. “It goes, ‘I want you, I need you, but there ain’t no way I’m ever gonna love you, now don’t be sad, cause two out of three ain’t bad.’ I thought it fitting.” She looked up at him pointedly, her position on whatever was to happen between them very clear.

“Ain’t bad at all,” he nodded, both understanding and agreeing. The woman would be his now, on this ship. That would end the moment their journey reached its conclusion. That was fine by Riddick. He watched her with great appreciation as she rose to her knees, revealing every inch of herself to him now that the terms had been laid clear. Riddick removed his trousers completely, stepping out of them with a grace usually unheard of for a man his size. The flashing silver of his shined eyes moved over her, admiring her form.

The tormenting, figure hugging clothing she had worn before had not done her justice. The corset had concealed a pair of pert, round breasts, shapely and generous without being too large. Well proportioned to her slender body; those rounded, inviting hips. Her skin was pale. Marked by years of experimentation and abuse. The scars were faint, but they were there along her torso. He knew without seeing that they would line her back as well.

Cat felt self-conscious for a moment, her brow furrowing as she watched Riddick’s gaze move over her exposed flesh. Without realising she did it, she moved to cover the worst of the scars, but he stopped her with a firm grasp on each of her wrists. When she shot him a questioning glance, he arched an eyebrow and told her, “They don’t define you. We‘ve all got scars.”

This answer pleased Cat. She pulled her hands free, clasping them to either side of his face as she pulled him closer, a fierce kiss offering thanks for his words of acceptance. She hadn’t expected such a sentiment from Riddick.

He moved closer, kneeling with her on the bed now to close the distance between their bare bodies. She began to rub gently against him, an almost feline gesture, and his body responded to the movement. The way she avoided direct contact with the gashes across his chest did not go unnoticed, and he was glad of it. They already stung like a son of a bitch, he didn’t particularly relish the idea of aggravating them further. There were other things he chose to concentrate on at present.

She nipped at the bronzed skin of his scratched shoulder, and he prepared himself for the sharp pain of those fangs sinking in. Cat held back, however, and the pain did not come. Instead, she licked the now reddened flesh and then kissed his mouth again. She allowed the invasion of his tongue into her mouth, almost seeming to purr as it stroked her own. There was nothing gentle in Riddick’s kiss. It was as bold and demanding as the man himself, and Cat wanted more.

That wave of need was rushing to the surface, unhindered now in Cat’s resolution that she would not deny satisfaction. With a snarl, she pulled him forward, that slender body somehow managing to flip him in the process so that he lay with his back on the bedcovers. The woman straddled him, smiling down as her black mane of hair fell down over her shoulders, partially concealing her breasts from his view. When he lifted a hand to remedy this, she slapped it away. She leaned closer, her hands coming to rest on either side of the Riddick’s head. Her back was arched, body swaying slightly as she contemplated just what she was going to do with the man below her. Oh, her somewhat fractured mind could come up with many, many potential ideas, but most were discarded instantly. She wanted pleasure, but she didn’t want to kill him in the process.

Riddick tensed beneath Cat, uncertain he liked this position. He had put her into a similar, submissive posture earlier, but that had been different. The protests were pitiful, really. His body was far too interested in how very close she was to giving herself over. Despite himself, his breathing quickened as she insisted upon rubbing her groin against him, brushing against the stiffened, demanding part of himself which had wanted her from the very beginning.

She bared her teeth at him without warning, lunging forward. His hand came up of its own volition and caught her firm across her cheek. Her growl softened, and Riddick got the distinct impression she was testing him again. Deciding one final time if he was worthy after all. He would show her ‘worthy’. Grasping her hips, he held onto her firmly as she rose over him again, his expression telling her that was just about enough of that behaviour. “Act like an animal, and I’m going to treat you like one,” he said, his thumbs tracing small circles on her skin.

Laughing, Cat’s head fell back onto her shoulders. When she looked at him again, it was with a mischievous grin he hadn’t seen before. He was given little time to contemplate its meaning however, as she moved back in his hands, burying him deep inside in her own sweet time. That laugh came again as she heard his breath jerk with each inch of him she accepted. Every move she made was calculated and leisurely, though her eyes were anything but calm. She was chewing on her lip, something Riddick had seen her do often when she was either thoughtful or attempting to rein in intense emotion.

The woman was playing games, rising and falling upon him in an agonisingly slow rhythm. He reached for her, stroking her soft breasts with rough hands. His thumbs flicked over her nipples and she hissed, arching her back once again as a flash of pure fire raced through her, settling at her very core. Cat was inspired to step up the pace, yet the Alpha in her denied her this request. She waited, needing to confirm that Riddick was the man she believed him to be; needing to know that he could be both her submissive and her dominator. So far, he was putting up with her slow pace, but his expression told her he would not follow her lethargic lead for long. She was pleased. The Alpha beast would not tolerate a companion who was incapable of being her match in every respect.

She made another swipe at his flesh with her claws, raking them over his already tender shoulders, and he snarled, his own inner animal having had quite enough. She had teased him long enough. Hauling her down against his injured chest with one arm, Riddick lifted himself up with the other. Once seated, he picked Cat up off of his lap and deposited her with a definite lack of consideration onto the mattress. She offered that mischievous little smile again, inviting him to do as he liked without voicing the actual words. “I think maybe you’ve done enough scratching for one day,“ he told her, moving on the bed so that he rested between the pale young woman’s legs. “I don’t play games, I take what I want.”

“And what do you want?” she asked, coy and knowing.

“Right now? You.” He pushed himself into her soft, yielding body without awaiting a response. His thrusts were short, sharp and urgent, as were the upward movements of her hips to meet each and every one. The growls returned, mingled with the primal snarls that erupted from Riddick’s throat. Cat wrapped her legs around his waist, locking herself to him, and he slid his hands up along the delicate undersides of her arms, fingers moving to entwine with hers. It gave him that sense of power he had been seeking. His rightful position in his mind.

Cat’s legs tightened when she felt the fire he stoked so easily begin to burn out of control. She began to shake all over, the feeling that she was losing control overwhelming her to the point that she wanted to scream out in terror. To entirely lose herself could mean his death. She had attacked him. Harmed him. She’d be damned, however, if she was going to let the beast have him; if she’d let it destroy him.

He saw the fear in her expression, and while he slowed his pace, softening his movements, he did not stop altogether. It was in her eyes, those ever expressive, mesmerising eyes, exactly what was on her mind. He gripped her hands tighter in his. “Don’t do it, girl,” he told her. It wasn’t a warning. He sounded almost supportive, which threw Cat entirely. “You come back now.”

Cat jerked her hands free, wrapping her arms tight around Riddick. She held him as close as she could, forgetting the very wounds she had inflicted. He let it go, ignoring the pain and opting instead to burrow one arm between her waist and the bunk to hold onto her. His free hand supported his weight as he threw everything he had into the passion that Cat now offered him.

He found himself on the verge of release, his control slipping more and more with each thrust. She too was close, he could feel it in the tightening of her muscles; hear it in her muffled keening in his ear. Her clawed fingers were digging into his flesh again, but he ignored that, too. Part of her seemed to be holding back, afraid to let go and Riddick said, “If you want it, take it.”

She did, crying out in ecstasy paired with defeat as she reached her climax, giving him more than either she or the beast had ever intended. She shuddered, almost losing her hold on him as he offered up several more hard thrusts and reached his own conclusion. They remained joined for many long moments after, catching their breath and regaining their senses. When he finally left her, shifting his weight from her body, she rolled over on the bunk, staring at the far wall. He wasn’t surprised. She’d said it was a mistake before they’d even done it. Riddick didn’t expect it when she drew a sharp breath and quietly said, “If I’d lost it, you’d be dead now.”

“You didn’t. I’m not.” He wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say, but it seemed to be enough. She sighed and relaxed, enjoying the afterglow. With a self-satisfied smirk, he rolled onto his own side, cradling up behind her and resting an arm over her waist so that he was holding her against him. He was sure she would push him away, and was surprised when she folded her arm over his to keep it secure. “Still going to throw me off the ship?” he asked her, half playfully and half to gauge just where he now stood.

“No, I suppose not,” Cat answered, and then she yawned. “Now shut up. I’m tired.”

He laughed but said nothing more. It wasn’t long until he heard her breathing become slow and steady as she drifted off into sleep, and even less time after this before he joined her.