Predator: Survivor

Chapter 31

It was her surrender.

The complete submission to him as he repeatedly gave and took from her body.

Everything about it should bother him, disgust him. It went against everything he was taught and everything he was trained to be. It was not yautja.

Yet as her body heated and arched in his arms as her feet grew taut against his calves, he knew that this surrender was a part of it all. And it made his body harden all over once more. He observed every nuanced detail of the shock in her eyes as he moved faster inside of her. Or how her cries turned into pleading even as her hands tightened against him keeping him close. He craved it. He memorized it all, engraving it deep in his bones to never be forgotten.

Bor stood in the doorway of the bathroom and looked down at the sleeping woman. Last night the pod's AI system removed the two beds and placed one large bed when they came through the door. Naked and spread across the bed's tangled linens, Izara's body was a testament to last night's joining.

Bor noted each fading mark on her skin, places where he gripped her. His hands clenched at his sides. He needed to be careful with her. Even if the bruises were fading before his eyes, their presence did not sit well with him. He lifted his gaze to the soft sleeping features of her face. Even in sleep, he could see the stubborn traits of her personality. Last night she had been just as eager for him, reveling at his commanding touch, demanding it even.

Unconsciously, his eyes moved lower following the soft line of her hips to the forbidden flesh between her legs. Bor had to stifle a growl. He could see his seed leaking out onto her thighs. His cock lengthened at the thought of driving into her once more. Her final cry of release still rang in his head as a cruel yet beautiful reminder.

Bor stepped away and exited the pod.

Each step through the sand was fueled by the rising anger coursing through him. Grains of sand scattered into the cool morning air as he trudged deeper onto the beach finally stopping in the middle. Bor glared at the ocean, only partly noting the kraken's corpse was missing. Something no doubt larger in the food chain took it for its meal.

He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing.

Usually clearing his mind was an easy task. A ritual he performed every morning, yet this morning his mind would not shift from his baser thoughts. It angered him. Clenching his fists in frustration, Bor sat down with a grunt on the soft sand. This lack of control was unacceptable.

Thoughts of turning back around to the pod and waking Izara up with his touch were overwhelming. He tried reminding himself of her bruises or the deep sleep that her body needed. Yet his mind still pictured turning her over onto her stomach and gripping her hips.

Bor opened his eyes and stared tiredly at the ocean. Was this what rutting did to yautja? Did it turn them into mindless beasts who only thought of one thing? Was this why some female yautja rutted so seldom with their mates? Bor's eyes narrowed, he would not be that way with Izara.

With a sense of renewed purpose, he closed his eyes and began to clear his mind of all thoughts.

Bor wasn't sure how much time passed when he heard the soft crunch of sand in front of him. Opening his eyes, he was staring at a pair of familiar legs. He tilted his head back and met the smiling expression of the only human he would ever care for. Izara stood in front of him wearing one of her white printed shirts. The garment fell to her thighs and was usually worn when she slept. He could smell the scent of soap on her skin and could see the dampness in her black curls around her face.

"What are you doing?" she asked softly.

Bor glanced back down to her thighs a few inches from his face and thought of his waning control. "Meditating," he replied roughly.