Any reading she’d done about that time on earth made it seem like an interesting era, sexual repression on the surface but hidden debauchery underneath. Something wanton and naughty in her wanted to be a love slave or perhaps hold a man as her love slave.

She could think of one man in particular that she’d love to have at her mercy. She’d only had a brief glimpse of him once on Tristar 234 when she and Angelina had stopped there to refuel but that glimpse had fueled erotic fantasies for weeks to come. They’d been in the middle of a rescue mission to some backwater planet and out of time as always, yet she could remember every detail of the encounter. He had been hauling his latest “catch” to his cruiser and the stupid son of a bitch thought he’d make a last ditch attempt to get away. The bounty hunter had hauled him up against his chest and whispered in his ear. The poor bastard had peed his pants and never made another sound. Delia had been standing with her mouth open, watching the interplay, when he whirled and looked right at her as if she’d just popped up on his radar screen. A wry smile lit up his face as he gave her body a slow perusal, his hand around the felon’s neck. As his eyes traveled down her, Delia swore she could feel his hands touching her, pebbling her nipples, stroking her belly, nudging her clit. She knew he hadn’t moved yet his touch was marking her, claiming her. Dragging his prisoner with him, he strode over to stand in front of her. Delia never backed down from a fight but the sheer animal power of this man made her feel tiny and edgy as he loomed over her. Leaning down, he put out his tongue and licked below her ear. Delia stood frozen as he marked her.

“I’ll find you,” he growled then turned and disappeared into the ragged crowd