Free Hinekiri by Shelley Munro

Hinekiri was having fun at his expense. The vein twitched again. He was getting on in years so he hoped the bloody thing wouldn’t pick this moment to burst. He’d prefer to retain some dignity.
    The smile dropped off Hinekiri’s face, replaced by a grim scowl and a taut jaw that wouldn’t have looked out of place on a pugilist. She glided to the door.
    Panic roared through Richard even as he admired the sway of her backside. “Where are you going? You can’t leave me bound.” He glared at his erection and swallowed. As he watched, a bead of pre-cum formed at the tip. What the hell? Heat suffused his face. He fought the cuffs encircling his hands and feet, uncaring that Hinekiri could see how uncomfortable he was with this weird situation. She’d already seen him at his worst. His gut wasn’t as flat as a younger man’s and his face bore the wrinkles of experience. Any man would feel this way, waking up bound with a hard-on. Even a young man in his prime.
    Hinekiri opened the door, but instead of leaving, she whistled. “Killer! Here, Killer.”
    Richard heard a dull bark. The dog, who was still very purple, galloped into the room at top speed. Momentum took her halfway across the room then she suddenly rose into the air. The expression on the dog’s face was one of astonishment and Richard chuckled despite himself.
    “Woof. Woof.” Killer’s legs scrambled as if she was trying to run. The move shot her upward. Her head struck the ceiling with a dull thud.
    “Woof.” It was a cry of pain and fright.
    “Don’t panic, Killer. I’ll get you down. Keep calm.” Hinekiri seemed to bend her knees—Richard wasn’t one hundred percent sure since her gown covered her legs—and she floated toward the ceiling. She controlled her ascent better than the dog. Before she hit, she waved her arms and hovered. Reaching out, she scooped up the little purple dog and calmly descended again. She glided over to the door, let Killer out and moved back to him.
    Understanding dawned in Richard. He was bound for his own safety. But that didn’t explain the painful erection. “What is this room?”
    “A guest cubicle. All our private cubicles are gravity enhanced.”
    “Why?”
    “Our scientists have found it is easier on the body and it decreases the aging process if gravity is adjusted upward when the body is at rest. How’s the arm?” Hinekiri trailed a hand across his bare chest.
    His skin jumped beneath her stroking fingers. Every bit of blood not already in his groin region zapped south. “The arm is fine. Other parts of me are not.”
    Hinekiri licked her lips, leaving them moist and shiny. “So I see, sailor.” Her fingernails scraped over his pectoral muscles, alternatively stroking and scratching until he shuddered.
    “Enough.” Richard’s eyes remained fixed on her body. In truth, he didn’t really want her to stop, but he was getting to the stage where embarrassment was becoming a deciding factor. He gritted his teeth, struggling to maintain his dignity.
    “I haven’t used Dalconian healing liquid on a human before. The balm has drawn out the poison from your system, but this…” She smirked when she studied his groin. “Seems to be a side effect of the healing process.”
    “Will it go down?” He’d never used pills to get it up before but imagined this was how the drug must feel.
    “I don’t know.” Hinekiri pursed her lips, attracting his attention. The need to taste her lips again was a fever in his blood. The twinkle in her violet eyes told him she knew of his desperate need to touch. “I managed to complete the repairs while you were healing. I’ve put the ship on autopilot after doing a couple of test circuits around Sloan. We have a few hours…” she trailed off, one brow arching in a silent question.
    “Touch me.” Richard’s voice was hoarse with need.
    “Are you sure? I don’t want to take advantage.”
    Richard snorted. “I’m in pain here. Be gentle with me.”
    “I