Chapter 19: Compulsion
Sarea woke up afraid. She wasn't at home. Her head throbbed; soreness pulsed throughout her body, starting in her loins. Then Lucas blossomed within her mind, a large presence that lay just outside her own consciousness. He was still asleep, she could tell, and he was at peace for the first time since she'd known him.
It was hard to believe it had only been a day. Light from the rising sun turned the sterile bedroom orange.
Whoever designed this place has terrible taste
, she thought. Her skinsuit hung from the back of the bedroom door. It wouldn't be functional without her implants-custom made and all, but it was nice to know she still had it. Sarea's eyes traced the lines of concrete in the ceiling. She wondered idly if G & K's netrunners and deckers had any success getting into her deck and her mods. Probably not.
Sarea rose quietly and washed her face in the bathroom. The kitchen was stocked like a hotel room, all instant coffee and creamer. Still, coffee is coffee. While Sarea was heating water, she felt Lucas awaken. As he went to use the restroom, she got out a second cup. Not for the first or last time, she wondered what kind of man Lucas Tate was. A bastard. A rapist. A violent killer. It seemed all of those were true, yet she didn't hate him. She wanted to. It was as though there were two Sareas, split cleanly by that first spray of Disiac. Old Sarea wanted to take a knife from the block on the counter, hide it in her shirt, and slide it into Lucas's neck when she gave him his coffee, but new Sarea would never let that happen. She didn't know how she'd ever reconcile that.
It was only yesterday that she was a free decker, working to undermine disiac production across the city. Now, that seemed like a lifetime ago. She was in shock, she must be. What scared her most was how quickly she seemed to have lost the thread for hope. Hope of escape, hope of returning to her home, her cat. Sarea shook her head. She
would
get out of here. She just had to play along, to survive until she could escape. They couldn't break her. Sarea had never been a prisoner before, nor had her mods been stripped of her. She was just a woman now, alone. Not alone, she supposed. Lucas was right there.
The kettle beeped and boiled. Sarea brewed two cups and walked back into Lucas's bedroom. He was up, his back against the wall. His eyes looked somewhere else, far in the distance. Sarea realized immediately that he was running diagnostics.
Just how modified is he,
Sarea thought. Bond or not, her newfound partner was impressive. Hulking muscles, chiseled face. With the bond, however, he was intoxicating. Sarea felt it as she got closer to the room, but now, in sight of him, it threatened to engulf her. She
wanted
him. In spite of her aches and pains, the trauma of the last day, she
wanted
him, and she hated herself for it.
This has to stop soon
, she thought.
"I made you coffee," she said, holding up both cups.
Lucas returned to the here and now and looked at her, "Oh, thanks."
He pulled the comforter up a little further, covering his navel and the too-perfect happy trail that Sarea had been staring at. Sarea handed the coffee to him and sat at the edge of the bed, one leg resting beneath her. The two sat in an uncomfortable silence.
Finally, Lucas said, "This is awkward, right?"
"Yes, it is."
"I'm sorry, again. I don't know where this is -"
"Just stop," Sarea interrupted, "I don't want to hear any justification right now. What's done is done. I just want to know how I get out."
"Right, right," Lucas nodded. He sipped his coffee. "Thanks for this."
"You said that."
"Yeah, I guess I did."
Lucas looked anywhere but at Sarea. Finally, some discomfort. She relished in the control she felt. Sarea made a habit of making men uncomfortable, and she was relieved to know, after everything that had happened to her, that she still had that power. Through the bond, she felt Lucas radiating heat. She never saw him look at her breasts or hips, but she knew he had, she
felt
it. None of this made any sense, the science of it least of all, but she knew he had.
"Last night, Sten told you to give me the submissive mixture. Why didn't you?"
Lucas flushed, "I'm willing to do what it takes to achieve my goals. I don't need you to be a slave for that."
"You don't think I'm a slave now?"
"I don't fucking know, but it could have been worse," he said. The bond was growing warmer, angrier.
"Ok. Thanks, I guess," Sarea said.
"Mmhm."
Sarea probed the part of Lucas that lived inside her now. It was different, a different texture than just moments ago. Was he embarrassed?
"Stop, stop that," Lucas said.
Sarea's eyes widened, "You felt that?"
"Whatever you did, yes, I felt it."
"Are you embarrassed?"
"What's it matter if I am?" Lucas said. He turned his body and raised his knees, but not before Sarea saw that he had grown hard beneath the blankets.
It was like someone flipped a switch inside her. Arousal appeared out of nowhere, triggering all of its physical responses. Her skin flushed, her nipples hardened. Blood rushed to her labia and pussy, leaving her woozy with desire.
"What the fuck?" she said to no one.
"What?" Lucas asked.
Sarea didn't answer. The wanting she felt before had turned into need. She tried to push it down and away, but he was right there. She slickened, and her aches and pains were replaced with a new ache that only he could subdue. Sarea set her coffee on the nightstand and gingerly crawled across the bed toward Lucas.
"What are you doing?" he asked, but Sarea thought he had to know.
"I don't know."
Sarea ran her hands over the sheets and down Lucas's strong legs until they found his hard cock. She gripped it loosely and rubbed the soft sheets across his shaft and head, her eyes looking for his.
"Oh fuck," Lucas said, "Are you sure?"
"No," Sarea said, and kissed him. After a moment, she pulled away and said, "Hold on, I want to try something."
