Seized & Seduced

by Shelley Munro

  “Mr. Bossy,” Lynx said, but Shiloh heard the laughter in his friend.

  Together, they padded back to the water and began to wash.

  “Shiloh?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I want to take you. I want to feel what you felt.”

  “I haven’t…” Shiloh trailed off. “Yes, I’d like that.”

  “Wait. You haven’t let any man have you?” Lynx asked.

  Shiloh felt uncharacteristic heat crawl into his cheeks. He wanted to shift the conversation, or at least avert his gaze, but instead kept stubbornly staring at Lynx. “No.”

  “But you’ll let me.”

  “I agreed, didn’t I?”

  “You did.” A wicked grin spread across Lynx’s face, moving slowly as engine oil in a frigid climate, until it reached from ear to ear. “And I can’t wait to breach your virgin arse.”

  A snort escaped Shiloh, and he managed to contain his mirth to a tight smile. After an extended sec, he gave up the fight. He threw back his head and laughed, the sound echoing over the pool. Emotion clutched his chest in a tight embrace as he grinned at Lynx. Happiness. That was what this bubbling reaction was—contentment. “It’s all yours, Lynx. Any time.”

  “That’s what I’d hoped you’d say.” Lynx grasped Shiloh’s arm. He gave it a tug. “I pick now.”

  Jannike shifted position, her legs cramping from staying in the same spot for so long. She hadn’t meant to watch the two felines but once she’d spotted them she couldn’t move. One, they would have heard her and suspected she was spying, and two, she couldn’t tear her gaze away. Thank the goddess the two men had finished and gone to the pond to bathe.

  She yelped under her breath when the blood prickled through her veins and plopped onto her butt. With a whispered curse, she rubbed her calves to restore circulation. This was punishment for acting like a pervy jerk, as Camryn would say. Snooping on lovers.

  Assured she’d be able to move without pain, she rose. Shiloh glanced in her direction and she ducked. Goddess! A spike of adrenaline had her heart bump-bump-bumping against her ribs. Stupid. So phrullin stupid.

  This was the last time she let her hormones yank her around. Her hormones had tugged on her ear, whispered she should watch and she’d behaved like a well-behaved pet. No, she was standing right now. And no, she wasn’t jealous. She. Was. Not.

  Lecture done, she forced her legs to raise her off the ground. Her gaze darted to the spot where the two men had made love, and she froze. The bastards were at it again.

  “Did you hear that?” Lynx asked.

  “I saw as well. Jannike is spying on us.”

  Lynx slanted his gaze in the direction of the sound. “I see her. What do we do? Give her a show?”

  “I’m up for that.” Shiloh stroked his cock, his slow grin—so unusual it was striking—pushing Lynx’s pulse to choppy. “What’s wrong? Have you gone shy?”

  “I’m wondering where to touch you first.”

  “Anywhere you like. I’m sparkly clean. You should make the most of that.”

  Lynx sighed at the reminder. “True that. We’re gonna need a dose of luck to escape from the dome. They knew we were here. The sand worm might have killed them all but they would’ve contacted someone in charge. They’ll come again.”

  “Doesn’t make any difference to our plan. We need to rest.” Shiloh’s stomach gave a plaintive rumble.

  “I’m hungry too.” And as if to prove it, Lynx’s gut gurgled in sympathy.

  “We all are. We can do without food. We can’t do without water.”

  “I’ll take our minds off food,” Lynx promised.

  “You can try.” Shiloh’s grin flashed, and with a carefree laugh, Lynx pounced.

  They went down and Lynx sought Shiloh’s mouth. Kissing his friend was different from kissing a woman, yet he didn’t regret a thing. If Jannike was right, and they were mates, it had pushed their friendship to a new level. One he liked.

  Lynx gentled the kiss, wanting tenderness instead of urgency. Shiloh’s arms came around him, and Lynx shuddered with enjoyment. Firm touches. A slight readjustment of their hips and their cocks aligned.

  Lynx groaned at the rush of heat, the push of need in his body. “Tell me what to do. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Jannike dithered, and to her shame, she couldn’t take her eyes off the two felines. The urge to join them hit her so strongly, she found herself taking two steps before her brain lurched into gear. They were beautiful together. A team. A mated pair, and they didn’t need her around. The irritating itch kicked to life, sliding stealthily beneath her skin. She raked her nails over the spot, but the itchiness increased.

  She didn’t understand this attraction. Given her knowledge, she would have presumed she’d be safe since the two felines were mates. She didn’t think they felt the same way toward her, but she had caught them staring a couple of times… Gah! The entire situation was confusing and weird.

  The two males were getting into their lovemaking now. They wouldn’t notice her retreat, and if they did—too bad.

  She stood and stomped up the slight incline to where Kelvin had set up camp. What did she need with a mate, anyway? She ignored the burst of heat within her body, the insidious longing.

  The idea was ridiculous.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Report,” Ursola demanded of her second-in-command, a squat man as wide as he was tall. He had a round face, an earnest, sweet face that hid his inner core of cruelty. His black hair, glossy and long, hung down his back in a complicated plait while his white robes were spotless.

  Alain plopped his fat arse on one of the chairs on the other side of her home office desk. His black button eyes held calmness, another façade much like his jolly visage. “Many specimens have been recaptured and are at our facility. Unfortunately several died and a few suffered injuries during the crash. My men have located another group on a haven not far from the dome.”

  “And?”

  “They have yet to report on their progress. Once we capture these last specimens we’ll have most of the original cargo.”

  Not as bad as she feared. “And the ship?”

  “I sent out the retrieval team. They’re salvaging what they can and effecting repairs. The foreman says they can patch the hole in the side but the propeller engine is in bad shape. They’re waiting for new parts to come from Manx One.”

  “I see.” She had other ships. The temporary loss of one was a nuisance but not debilitating. “Keep me informed of progress. I’ll need to set another date for the auction. How bad are the injuries among the survivors? Anything that will take the specimens out of an auction?”

  “Many were dehydrated, but most injuries are treatable. Nothing that will deter us making a profit.”

  “Excellent.”

  Someone knocked on her door. Ursola started to frown then decided the interruption was good. Alain liked to linger, and she suspected he had designs on her person. “Come.”

  The door opened to Cayle who bobbed his head in a respectful manner. “You have another visitor, mistress.”

  “Alain, I think we’ve finished? Keep me informed of progress. My slave will escort you out.”

  Alain frowned but accepted his dismissal. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Ursola nodded, pleased at the progress he’d reported. The crash was a mere setback, and if anything, the delay allowed curiosity to build. She’d taken care to speak to various buyers, telling them of the cargo and their rare status. The result was daily calls and eagerness from the collectors.

  “Ah,” she said when Cayle showed in the private investigator. Cayle sent her a private smile that pleased her even though she kept her expression impassive. He shut the door, leaving her alone with the private investigator. “Tell me you have made progress.”

  “Whoever the culprit is, he or she is cautious.” The investigator tugged at his purple tunic to ensure it wouldn’t crease when he sat. A frown marred his brow, the network of textured irr
egular lilac ovals on his skin glinting under her office illumination. “I have followed every lead and have learned nothing useful. I have checked into your staff at the facility, the crew aboard the downed ship—those who I have been able to contact. There are two ship hands missing. A floris dragon attacked one and the other has disappeared. It is debatable whether she made it back to the dome or not. Events are unclear after the ship crashed.”

  “Find her,” Ursola barked.

  “I am searching.” The investigator’s forked tongue flickered out and back in, tasting the air, testing for currents left by truth and lies. “I wish to interview your house slaves next. I also need to know who has visited you on business or personal matters. My assistant will do a sweep for spy-bots.”

  “Is that necessary?”

  She disliked outsiders peering into her private life. The investigator might learn the truth of Cayle’s status. She’d been so careful, and Cayle was discretion itself.

  “I demand the upmost loyalty from my household staff. A lesson learned a long time ago.” The traitorous bitch. Her husband had paid for his transgressions and the bitch had spent hundreds of cycles in the dungeon—until she’d managed to escape. If she ever got her hands on the wench again, she’d make her rue the cycle she’d leaped into the master’s bed. “My house slaves know the merest infraction will send them back to auction, and they mightn’t gain such a lenient owner the second time.”

  “Even so, I would like to complete my investigation,” the male said, unperturbed by the synsteel of her voice.

  “Very well.” Ursola conceded after a brief duel of gazes. “You may have access to my slaves this afternoon. Make it quick. I do not care to have my routine disrupted.” An afternoon of lovemaking tossed away because this pompous man demanded it of her. She pushed the call button on her desktop, and after a short wait, someone tapped on the door. “Come,” she called.

  The door cracked open and one of the females loitered on the other side. “Yes, mistress?”

  “Where is Cayle?”

  “He is supervising a delivery of foodstuffs, mistress. He bade me tell you he wanted to check off the items because he thought the trader was cheating you.”

  “I see. Summon the slaves together. I wish to speak with them in the foyer.”

  “Now, mistress?”

  “Yes, now. Apart from Cayle. He may continue his duties and report to me once he is finished.”

  “Yes, mistress.” The colorless girl bowed and backed away, shutting the door with a soft clack.

  “Come,” she said to the investigator. “You may interview the slaves one by one in the connecting ante-room.”

  * * * * *

  Jannike watched the felines walk back to the main camp, hand in hand. Their shoulders were relaxed, their smiles easy as they nodded at Kelvin.

  A matched pair. There was that envy again. She couldn’t keep it tamped down, stuffed at the back of her mind. She wrenched her gaze from their open happiness and worked on keeping her gnawing hunger at bay. Her fingers curled, dug into her palms as she focused on even breaths. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out.

  “Would you like to drink?” Kelvin asked.

  Royal was already taking a drink.

  “If you are willing to grant us that honor.” Lynx’s come-to-bed voice yanked at Jannike’s control. Her gaze lifted, landed, stuck like a prickled burr.

  In answer, Kelvin extended one of his branches—the same one they’d drank from earlier.

  Kelvin pulled a face when Shiloh bit down, his sole reaction. Still, Jannike suspected allowing them to drink pained him, and it made his offer even more generous. Some way, somehow she would repay his kindness—if they managed to survive this hellhole.

  Her gaze went to Lynx and she found him watching her. He winked, and she battled her blush. If Kaya were here, she’d bust a gut laughing. Her friend would read Jannike’s covetousness without difficulty and call her on it. Think. Talk about something. Anything. “The bruising has gone from Shiloh’s back. Turn around.” She stared at Lynx’s back—also free of black splotches.

  “Have mine gone?”

  “Yes.” Tattoos had formed on Ry and Camryn after they’d had sex. Even allowing for personal differences, surely something should have happened to show they were mates.

  “Your turn,” Shiloh said. “Jannike, have you drunk?”

  “Not yet. Kelvin was sleeping, and I wanted him to rest while he could.”

  “Which I thank ye for,” Kelvin boomed.

  “Could you ask the markowls to reconnoiter the area around the haven? If they are rested and feel up to the task,” Shiloh asked. “It would be helpful to know if the sand worm is still around or if anyone else is approaching.”

  Kelvin whistled and cheeped at the birds, and they took off without hesitation, returning a short time later while Jannike was taking her turn at drinking.

  Kelvin chatted with the birds then frowned. “A group of men on motor-skids are coming from the direction of the dome. They didn’t see the sand worm but did see the movement of the sand between us and the dome. They think this was the sand worm traveling underground.”

  “Do we make a run for it or wait?” Lynx mused.

  “Wait,” Jannike and Shiloh answered at the same time.

  “I need to drink and rest to let my body absorb the toxins in the water. Without water we will not survive the crossing to the dome,” Kelvin said. “I would have drank earlier but I needed rest.”

  “Let them come to us. They need to get past the sand worm in order to recapture us.” Jannike scanned their faces for agreement. “We don’t have food, but thanks to Kelvin we have water. We can rest and wait until the time is right to bolt to the dome.”

  Shiloh flexed his shoulders and stretched. “The worm will keep the men riding the motor-skids at bay.”

  “We could shift and sniff out the sand worm,” Lynx added his thoughts. “Learn the creature’s habits, where it rests, discover if it is active once the solar-star descends.”

  Thoughts of escape helped Jannike to focus. Hopefully the Indy would appear before the men on the motor-skids attempted to nab them.

  “So we’re agreed on this plan?” Shiloh asked, his gaze searching their faces.

  “Aye.” Kelvin answered for them all. “’Tis the sensible plan. I go to drink now.”

  “Do you require us for anything?” Lynx asked.

  “No.” Jannike found it surprisingly difficult to utter the word, the tiny voice at the back of her mind waving its arms and practically doing handsprings to grab attention.

  “We’ll set up camp on the other side of the haven and keep watch for anything interesting,” Shiloh said.

  Jannike nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Begging words, pleading words, words that would change everything sat at the tip of her tongue, waiting to spill free. She swallowed and was glad when Royal scuttled across the ground and held up his furry arms. She picked him up, cuddling his warm body to her chest. “Kelvin and I will watch this side.”

  Lynx scratched Royal behind one ear before putting some welcome space between them. “Shout if you need anything.”

  Jannike nodded again. That wouldn’t happen but if her agreement comforted the felines, she’d acquiesce.

  The two felines wandered off, their buttocks tight and muscular beneath their trews. Two males in their prime. Such a visual feast. Their soft voices trailed in their wake, husky, private and full of good humor. Her nipples ached and she couldn’t stop her need to scratch her back.

  Stop watching, moron. You’re making the situation worse. But she couldn’t. A vision of naked bodies. Hers. Theirs. Limbs entwined. Long, thick cocks. Needy flesh. Soft noises. The musky scent of sex. Pleasure. So much pleasure.

  Fuck a duck. Fuck a duck. Fuck a duck! Not even thinking another one of those intriguing Earth phrases managed to distract her stubborn mind.

  She craved sex with the felines, and nothing she did halted her depraved thoughts. With a low groan, she gr
abbed her blanket and scouted a comfortable spot out of the direct beams of the solar-star. Briefly, she toyed with the idea of getting herself off or at least attempting the feat. No, her experiment last time hadn’t ended well. In fact, the elusive orgasm had amplified her frustration.

  No.

  She’d go to sleep or at least pretend to rest. If her mind wouldn’t let her relax, she’d work on a plan for when they reached the dome. The power of positive thinking and all that bull crap.

  * * * * *

  “Report,” Ursola directed Alain. “Tell me your men have captured the last of the escapees.”

  “The men report there is a sand worm between them and the haven. They tried but the sand worm killed three of their number.”

  Ursola ground her teeth together. She might not need these specimens to hold her auction, but she didn’t like to lose. She’d collected them once, and she’d have them again. “Send the Renis fighter equipped with experienced guards. We should have done that earlier instead of messing around with ground crew.”

  “We were trying to maximize profit. The ships cost more in fuel and labor and reduce our profit margins.”

  “Yes, yes,” Ursola said. “I want these creatures captured. Their escape is setting a bad precedent. Rumors spread, and the last thing I want is for splinter groups to make them into heroes. I can’t allow this. I want pictures of the escapees, identification of their species, known characteristics.”

  Alain coughed, his face puckering on the view screen. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if they are specimens of lesser value, it might be easier to terminate them.”

  Ursola considered. “A good point. This is what we’ll do. Send a single pilot ship, one equipped with recognition and surveillance tools. Report back once we have their species information, and I’ll make the final decision.”

  * * * * *

  “Lynx. Shiloh.” Kelvin’s whispered boom jerked Lynx from his lover’s embrace.

  “What? What is it?”

  Beside him, Shiloh tensed, battle-ready in the blink of an eye.

  “Something is wrong with Jannike,” Kelvin said.

  Lynx climbed to his feet. “What?”