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But my cock is throbbing and by the time I reach her belly, I'm aching with the pain of my erection. Why is she so beautiful? Why does she have to be so perfect? Her dark hair contrasts perfectly with her pale skin and her perky breasts lead to a soft tummy I just want to lick. I wonder what she tastes like. I wonder what it would be like to run my tongue over her belly and down to the space between her legs. I wonder what it would be like to make her come.
I wonder what it would be like to make her scream.
"I can do that bit," she says suddenly, sitting up in the tub. She takes the washcloth from my hand and blushes, then runs it between her legs. Unabashedly, I don't look away. Instead, I watch her hands move as she cleans her pussy. Then she washes her legs and feet. Fiona is bright red by the time she's done.
"You're beautiful," I tell her, but she just shakes her head.
"I'm normal," she says. "Only average."
"There's nothing average about you. If you really think that, you're lying to yourself." I help her out of the tub and wrap her in a large, over-sized towel. It's more like a soft blanket, and she visibly relaxes once she's covered up, once she has a bit of modesty to herself. Longing washes over me and I'm not even sure why. Eventually, she's going to go back to her own planet. Eventually, I'll get her there. I will, but I don't want to.
Suddenly, I wonder what it would be like to keep her.
Suddenly, I wonder what it would be like to fall in love with her.
To touch her.
To make love to her.
"Let's get those hands bandaged," I say, pushing the thoughts from my mind. I don't have time to think about that. I don't have time to think about anything right now. I need to stay focused. Fiona is a distraction. She's a lovely distraction, admittedly, but she's still a distraction.
And I don't have time for that.
There’s no way to know exactly when Hector will catch up with me. I need to discover his secrets before he finds me. I know there’s something here. There's definitely a reason he's so desperate to find this ship. There's definitely a reason he's enlisted the help of the fucking police to find me.
Fiona walks back into my room and sits on the bed without any prompting. She tucks the towel beneath her armpits so her breasts are covered, but her arms are free. Then she holds out her hands.
Gently, I apply ointment and bandages to each of her hands.
"Fuckers," I mutter as I clean her.
"Who?"
"The men who did this to you."
"I shouldn't have run," she says quietly.
"You had every right to run, little one," I say. "Every fucking right. You know how damn brave you are?" A glance at her eyes tells me she doesn't believe me, that she doesn't view herself as brave or special or amazing or incredible. It's a pity because she's all of those things and more.
She’s the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen, the most incredible woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
I only wish she knew it.
“Tell me about your life before,” I say. It’s a question, but I phrase it like a sentence. I hope it’ll help draw her out, hope it’ll help her share my secrets.
“I worked at a company,” she tells me. “I didn’t really have to. My parents are rich. Well, they were rich. I don’t know if…” Her voice trails off and I know what she’s going to say. I don’t know if they’re alive.
“The company,” I ask, trying to keep her positive. “What did you do there?”
“I helped new immigrants find homes,” she grins, and I can tell this is what she’s meant to be doing. I can tell she loves her job. “When people come to Mirroean, finding a place to live can be hard.”
“It’s an expensive place to live,” I mutter. Even though I’m wealthy, I don’t know that I’m that wealthy. Residing on Mirroean takes a special kind of person and a special kind of wallet.
“Yeah,” she admits. “But I help work out deals with people on the planet who want to rent out rooms in their homes or who have extra homes they can afford to rent inexpensively.”
“So you help people find reasonable places to live,” I say. “That’s admirable.”
“I wish my family thought so,” she says quietly.
