Free A Rebel Captive by J.D. Thompson Page B

there, in the cell.  Now, she was naked and covered in bruises.  The men on the couch all laughed and shouted rude remarks as they unzipped their pants.  Olivia watched in horror as a solider pushed the woman to the ground.  She got on her knees in front of a seated solider and took his cock in her mouth.  She bobbed up and down over the man’s lap for a few minutes before his face twitched in orgasm. 
    Then, she got up and moved to the next man, knelt, and took him in her mouth.  He grabbed a hand full of her hair and started jerking her head up and down mercilessly.  Olivia wanted to look away, but couldn’t. 
    Is that my fate?  The idea caused a few tears to fall down her cheek.  What scared Olivia the most was the look in the woman’s eyes when she got up to move to the next man.  The woman spotted Olivia.  She didn’t react, didn’t seem to recognize Olivia, she just turned back to the next man.  The woman looked completely broken, her eyes dead.
    Olivia instinctually leaned into Cole’s leg.  He was about to push her back into the correct position, but looked to where she was staring and didn’t.  Instead, he gently pressed his hand against her head, allowing her to further lean against him while turning her face away from the library.  He started stroking her hair again, rubbing her scalp and hoped he was putting her at ease. 
    She stayed there for a long time, accepting the comfort he offered and wondering if she’d gone crazy, wanting him to touch her.  She wrapped an arm around his leg and curled into him more.  His strokes caused little quivers of pleasure to run through her body and her thoughts drifted to a new question. Why did no one else’s touch cause such a reaction?  She couldn’t understand how someone could create such fear and yet such soothing and longing all in a single touch.  She considered him her protector and felt the need for closeness.  The pleasure and comfort slowly lulled her to sleep like a cat in its master’s lap.
     
     

CHAPTER 8
     
    Cole couldn’t believe she was softly slumbering against him.  One of her arms was wrapped around his leg while the other rested on his knee.  Her head pressed against his thigh and he could feel her hot pulses of breath.  He wished they were alone, that he could pull her onto his lap and wake her slowly with some illicit strokes.  The last representative shook his hand and wished him a good night, smirking at Olivia before he left. 
    Cole cracked his knuckles and stretched his arms; these meetings always wore him out.  All the talk of struggle, of rebel gorilla soldiers ransacking his towns, of death and hunger and pain, it drove him mad.  He was powerless to stop the war and that made him feel worthless.  All he could do was send more Republic soldiers to guard the villages and help rebuild the damage.  He put in an order for some of the fort’s own food supplies to be sent to the people in need.  He’d done all he could to help his people for the day and now, he was ready to relax, to take a break from his duties – if there really was such a thing as a break. 
    He smiled down at Olivia, pleased with how well she behaved, even if she was asleep for a portion of the time.  The session successfully sent the right message and he’d been correct to bring her.  His representatives would go back to their zones and speak assuredly of the Republic’s strength.  They’d tell people the daughter of one of the rebellion’s most powerful leaders sat subserviently at Cole’s feet or even better, slept peacefully curled up against her captor.  He gently shook her. 
    “Livie, wake up, my pet.” Before he used the term to annoy her, but now the endearment was growing on him. 
    She slowly woke up, blinking back sleep, and looked up at him.  His smile deepened and he leaned down, brushing his lips across hers. 
    “You did well, sweet Livie,” he murmured against her mouth.  “Let’s go get you some