She didn’t want him to stop. Even though he’d “kidnapped” her and carted her off to God knew where, she didn’t want him to stop. Actually, come to think of it, she wasn’t even that scared, as long as he was with her. It was hard to kidnap the willing.
One of his arms pillowed her head. Looking down into her face, he brushed the fingers of his free hand down her cheek with an almost reverent expression. They reached her mouth and traced along the fullness of her lower lip. She was caught in the spell, watching the changes in his expression. From reverent to possessive and right into a blazing heat that scorched the air between them.
She sucked a ragged breath in as he looked back into her eyes, his look direct and searing. How could he do that…make her feel hot and jittery, like she’d run a marathon, yet unfulfilled at the same time?
“You’re beautiful.”
“Sure you weren’t dropped on your head as a baby?” She snorted at the ridiculous idea that someone would think her beautiful after being in the same room as Cael. Then she remembered cyborgs were grown in tanks and matured to adulthood before they were “born”. Lyon had never been a child in the real sense of the word.
Heat crawled over her cheeks. Great move, Samara. Open mouth, insert foot.
“Never mind, forget I said anything,” she said quickly, hoping to cover her slip, and smoothed a hand down his bare chest.
He was all tanned, scarred skin and sexiness. Rugged and ruthless. Just the way she liked them… Okay, just the way she’d always fantasized about. She still wasn’t sure that this wasn’t a fantasy. Perhaps she’d hit her head and this was all just a highly charged erotic dream. If so, she hoped she stayed in a coma.
She reached his stomach and slid lower to run a finger along his rigid cock. It jumped as she touched it, his nostrils flaring as the heat in his eyes reached an inferno. “Now, are you going to follow up on this promise,” she smiled wickedly, unable to resist temptation. “Or do I have to call in one of those handsome boys from out there… Archon is cute.”
She’d been baiting him for a reaction, but she wasn’t prepared for the one she received. Fury flared in his eyes as he reared back to glare down at her.
“He’s scrap. You’re mine,” he snarled and grabbed her hand from his cock. As she squeaked in surprise, he captured the other and stretched both above her head. He’d always been gentle with her before, but now his control slipped, his hold just this side of painful.
“Mine, not Archon’s…not any other guy’s. Not. Ever.”
A thrill shot through her at his declaration and the hard look on his face. He looked ready to take on the universe and destroy it all, just because she’d mentioned another man.
Playing with fire, she shrugged. “All I’m hearing is a lot of talk here…”
He narrowed his eyes, the green glittering beneath the slits of his eyelids. “You want action, sweetling? I’ll give you some action.”
She hid her triumphant smile and gave him her best wide-eyed and innocent look.
His possessive tone and edge in his voice warned her that he was just on the edge of his control. She liked that, liked that she threatened that iron grip he seemed to have on himself. The urge to push him further, to push him over that edge and see what happened, gripped her.
He shifted on the bed, his knee pushing her knees farther apart in a rough move.
She sucked a shuddering breath in as he shoved his h*ps against hers and the thick head of his c*ck pressed at the entrance to her p**sy.
“I’ll give you all the action you’ll ever need,” he promised. With a powerful roll of his hips, he thrust all the way inside her until his balls pressed against the cheeks of her ass. Her breathing stopped as he filled her, pressing against the walls of her p**sy. The friction and fullness were addictive. She tried to breathe through her nose as she waited for the stretched feeling to abate, but he didn’t give her time.
“Mine,” he growled again as he pulled back and slammed into her again, as though the word was pulled unwillingly from the depths of his soul. His body covered hers protectively as he f**ked her in long, powerful thrusts.
Like a feral beast holding on to its prey, he pulled her close and buried his face against her neck. His lips whispered against her neck, but he didn’t kiss her, instead he nuzzled at the spot under her ear that sent shivers through her body. Her p**sy clenched hard around him, loosing a rush of liquid heat over the c*ck buried deep inside her.
He groaned approval and rolled onto his back with her still impaled on his rigid erection. Hands hard on her hips, he held her still as he drove up into her silken depths.
“Lady, you’re f**king addictive. What have you done to me?”
Chapter Six
What had she done to him? Hours later, Lyon all but stumbled from the master cabin with just that question rolling through his mind. Sex shouldn’t be like this. It was an itch to be scratched. Wham, bam, thank you, ma’am. Sorted. End of. It shouldn’t be this endless torment of not being able to get enough. Of finishing and within seconds being hard and aching for her all over again.
He leaned against the wall of the short corridor, his head back against the cool metal, and tried to wrap his mind around everything that had happened. He could have had any number of supplies from the Valkyrie, the captain there really hadn’t had a leg to stand on, he’d have had to comply with Lyon’s request or lose his ship.
He should have picked the supplies. They were low on just about everything back at base. A cause was all well and good, but it didn’t put food into the many mouths he had to feed. Although they were part machine, cyborgs were also bio-organic. And they ate a lot. Mealtime in the communal mess hall was like watching a plague of locusts descend and pick everything clean.
He’d picked Samara instead and, despite knowing he was going to get hauled over the coals for it when they got back, he wasn’t sorry. His flippant comment to Cael earlier had been dead on the mark. He and the rest of his kind were disposable, the perfect cannon fodder. He’d been designed, pulled from a tank and taught to kill. His body was filled with implants designed to make him the perfect soldier, but he wanted to be more than that. Deep within him he wanted it all to have a meaning, for his life to have a purpose. He’d despaired of finding it until he’d kissed Samara.
Now he knew. His life wasn’t meaningless or void of purpose. The way she touched him, the way she kissed him…the way she made him feel when she did. That he’d go to war for. He’d fight and kill for the way she looked at him. As though he was worth something more than the sum of his parts or his ability to kill. As though he was a normal man.
He sighed, the sound drawn from the bottom of his enhanced lungs, and pushed off the wall to walk into the main cabin.
“Oh looky here, lover boy’s emerged.” Archon quipped, turning in his seat to grin at his commanding officer.
“Didn’t think you were ever going to come up for air. She must be a damn good fuc—” He stopped as Cael, sitting behind him, clouted him soundly around the back of the head. “Hey! What was that for?”
Lyon grinned as he replaced Archon in the copilot’s seat next to Cael. “Looks like a lover’s tiff to me.”
“Fuck off! You think I’d let that male tart anywhere near me?” Cael scoffed and turned her attention to the console in front of her. Not quick enough to hide the blush over her cheeks though. Lyon smiled to himself as he realized the lay of the land there.
He’d thought there was something simmering between those two.
“She loves me, really. She’s just in denial.”
“Yeah, yeah. Now f**k off and do something useful, like man the guns so your brother can get some sleep.”
Lyon shooed the loud-mouthed Gemini off and accessed the flight plans. They weren’t far off the system they were holed up in at the moment. He knew it wouldn’t be long before they had to move again. Somehow the Fleet always managed to find their location. They’d even resorted to tagging grain supplies with location beacons. He wrinkled his nose, what a waste of good food.
“Okay, we need to do a sweep before we get too close. Last thing we need is to bring the Fleet right onto our doorstep.”
Cael flicked him a look out of the corner of her eye and smiled. “Already on it, boss man. Scan thirty percent complete.”
Lyon settled into his seat and allowed himself to relax. Their mission was nearly over and even if he hadn’t managed to get to talk to his initial target, they were all free and clear with no causalities or loss of equipment. And to boot, he’d picked up something far more valuable than supplies.
Samara. Not only was she something he’d protect to his dying breath, but she was a certified medic. Something they needed with a few of their women pregnant and nearing term. There were few things in this life that scared Lyon. Having to deliver a baby was one of them. Best leave that to the professionals, and from the records Cael had pulled from the Valkyrie’s mainframe, one of Samara’s specialties was midwifery.
A smile curved his lips again. He’d left her curled up in his bed sleeping. A soft feeling spread out from the center of his chest as he recalled the way a lock of her hair had fallen over her face. Alarmed, he initiated a diagnostic scan of his systems and then canceled it immediately. It was her, the soft feeling was all centered about Samara.
“Fuck.”
Short and succinct. That was what he liked about Cael, she didn’t mince her words.
“What is it?”
“We got a live bug on board.”
That got his attention. Somehow Fleet had managed to get something on the shuttle.
“How the f**k did they manage that? We didn’t take anything on board…” He paused at the same moment Cael looked at him, sorrow in her eyes.
“Boss, the signal is coming from your cabin.”
* * * * *
The door crashing open startled Samara from her light doze instantly. The small room was suddenly filled with large bodies. Only this time there were no smiles. Anger swirled around the small space and stole all the air from her lungs. Cael and Lyon stood by the ruin of the door. Cael’s face was perfect and blank, the expression in her eyes hard enough to send a shiver of fear down Samara’s spine.
If she thought Cael was bad, seeing that same expression on Lyon’s face nearly paralyzed her. Icy chills stomped up and down her spine in heavy boots, extending frozen fingers down her limbs to make them shiver.
“W-what’s happening?” she forced out through fear-numbed vocal cords.
Clutching the sheets tight to cover her nak*d body, she scrambled up the bed until her back hit the wall.
The two cyborgs advanced and the threat of danger and violence intensified.
Samara’s heart slammed against her rib cage so hard she was sure it would burst. She sought Lyon’s gaze, desperately looking for that expression in his green eyes that had told her she was safe with him. The empty expression she found was devoid of softness, filled with anger and a darkness she didn’t want to put a name to instead.