“You don’t move,” he observed against her lips, his voice husky. “You have no desire to touch me?”
“You’re very big,” she whispered, almost breathless.
“Yes,” he answered, kissing the corner of her lips. His tongue dragged across her again. “I am, and you’re so small and delicate. I promise not to give your body any more than it can take, but I need to be buried inside you.”
“How can I trust you? I don’t even know you,” Sam whispered, knowing just how insane this was.
“I’ve wanted you since the first moment I saw you,” he admitted.
“So you just take whatever you want?” Sam was partly teasing. He felt so good. She didn’t want him to stop.
“Yes, I take, but I also give,” Falke answered. “I want to conquer you, my lady.”
“My name’s Samantha,” Sam whispered.
“I know, Samantha. Sam.” Falke chuckled. Her name was heaven on his lips. His hand brushed back a lock of her hair, pushing it off her forehead. Then, growling with dominance, he declared hoarsely, “I want to conquer you, Samantha.”
What could a girl possibly say to that? A weak moan sounded in the back of her throat. Falke’s weight shifted as he pushed up. His thigh between her legs pressed lightly, maneuvering her hips around, so she was on her back. The hot length of his arousal fell against her tender stomach.
“Touch me,” he groaned, the words stuck between a plea and a command.
Sam’s hands lifted to his shoulders. They shook terribly. She liked the heated texture of him, the bumpy slide of his large muscles. Exploring his neck and chest, she budded his nipples with slow circles. The more she touched him, the more she wanted to keep touching him. Her body hummed, swirling with passion, so much more than in the shower earlier. This was so much more vivid, more real, more...Falke.
His mouth clamped down on hers, stealing her breath in his deep kiss before moving down her jaw. When he reached her ear, he rimmed it with his tongue, before whispering, “I want to make you come with my mouth. I want to taste it.”
Sam whimpered, and she swore she felt his cheek shift. He was grinning. Experience-wise she was out of her element. She knew that. She knew she should tell him to stop. Her hands faltered as she over thought her actions. Was she touching him the right way? Was she pleasing him? The way his mouth moved, the confidence in which he spoke said he was well practiced in the bedroom.
His mouth traveled the path his light fingers had made earlier. He licked and teased her nipples, before sucking a large amount between his lips. While the globe was trapped to his mouth, he swirled the nipple with his hot tongue. Sam bucked, sure she’d never felt anything quite like it. If she’d been asked two days ago about her breasts, she would’ve said they weren’t sensitive at all.
Pure instinct, raw and primal took over. Her hands delved into his hair, running through the silky length. She pushed his head down, wanting to feel his kisses against her most sensitive of flesh. Falke chuckled, the vibration rumbling over her.
“Falke,” she moaned. Her legs worked restlessly. She’d never felt so alive before. He knew just how to touch her, how hard to suck, how much pressure to use, where to kiss. “Falke.”
Falke paused in his task, listening to his name on her lips. Pleasure, warm and sweet, flooded him at the sound. Desire was in her voice, desire and need and acceptance. He drew his hands down over her silky legs. Sacred cats! She was soft. His shaft throbbed, but he held back from finding his own release. He sensed her nervous fear and knew in that moment that he’d never be able to hurt her. He would make her scream with pleasure, loosen her up to trust and accept him.
He jerked her thighs apart and angled his body to hers. He felt her tense and nuzzled his lips along her inner thigh. Falke couldn’t hold back. He needed to taste her. Leaning down, he latched his mouth around her sensitive flesh, parting the folds with his tongue. His body surged with life, as he drank of her sexual energy. The cream of her body filled him, and he moaned.
“Ah, Falke,” she cried. Her stomach contracted, and she tried to sit up. He growled possessively and pinned her hips to his mouth.
Sam tensed. Her legs dangled over his strong shoulders. She felt the end coming and mindlessly rocked her hips to him, trying to reach it. Her hands buried in his hair. His mouth worked faster, sucking her swollen nub. She felt his tongue dip deep inside her before being replaced by a thick finger. Soon one finger became two, and he thrust his hand, deeply stroking her. It had been so long, and he did it just right. Her passage was stretched wider, and she knew he’d slipped in a third finger. Her muscles contracted against his hand and mouth. He moaned, encouraging her on.
Sam cried out as an intense orgasm racked through her.
“Falke,” she panted, over and over again. When he’d milked the last tremor from her, he pulled away. “Falke, yes.”
“Tell me you want me,” he demanded, pulling up to kiss her until she was breathless, which wasn’t difficult considering. When she was dizzy, her own body’s taste on her lips, she nodded.
“I want you,” she repeated, as if beyond rationale. She pushed on his chest, and he let her knock him back on his knees. Sam glided her hand down his stomach. Her wide violet eyes glanced up at him. Her hand moved down, touching the large stiff mass between his legs. His breath caught, and she ran her hand over the full length of him.
Falke leaned further back, giving her complete access to him. His hand pressed behind him to hold up his weight. His Var eyes saw her perfectly in the dark, every detail. Sam leaned down, and he was sure her lush, parted lips wrapping around his thick shaft was the most erotic thing he’d ever witnessed. She made little noises as she rolled her tongue over his tip, sucking him gently.
Her hands caressed the extra length and began pulling and pushing him in agonizingly slow strokes. Her tongue flicked his tip, her teeth scraped lightly over the sides. It was all too much, the look of her naked body, the taste of her recent climax, the feel of her warm lips. Falke groaned loudly with pleasure. He expected her to pull back as his hips jerked, but she stayed fastened on him. Weakly, he tried to push her shoulder, a silent warning that he was close. She growled possessively, and it was more than he could take. Falke groaned, arching back. He released the pent up frustrations of his body, spurting his hot seed into her mouth.
Sam moaned, sucking harder, swallowing the salty-sweet taste of him. She didn’t stop to think, just acted. Her mind chanted that she wanted him, all of him. His low animalistic grunts still sounded over her, and she felt giddy with power, knowing she controlled the giant of a man before her.
She pulled back, panting for breath. Her heart hammered beneath her breast, trying to break free. Her eyes found him, his chest rose and fell, keeping frantic time with hers. Then, it hit her, what she’d done, how she’d acted. A low growl started in the back of his throat as he pushed forward, moving to crawl over her.
Sam panicked. Her jaw was a little sore from taking him in too deep, but there was more. Her back was stiff, aching painfully as it never had before. It wasn’t just his size that frightened her it was the man himself. A strange feeling came over her skin, making her dizzy and weak. She leaped from the bed, intent on fleeing to the bathroom.
Falke’s hand darted on a reflex, catching her about the waist and flinging her back toward the bed. He caught her with his arm, cradling her body gently to his chest. “What is it? I didn’t hurt you.”
Sam shivered, feeling very cold, contrasting his desert heat. Her skin paled, turning almost blue. He lifted a blanket around her, holding her tight. His arms massaged up and down her length, trying to give her warmth.
“You’re so cold,” he whispered. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. Her eyes dipped to the side, unable to meet his piercing gaze. That wasn’t true. She did know, or at least suspected. She was half Ticara. She’d somehow evoked that hidden part of herself, the part she’d been able to suppress for
so long, and it came flooding into her full force. Her stomach tightened. She was sore all over. “How do you feel?”
“What? Great. I have no regrets if that’s what you mean,” he said, almost urgently. Falke frowned in worry. “Is this because you have regrets?”
“How do you feel physically?” she insisted, her teeth chattering.
“Better than I have in days, months,” he answered.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” she whispered. “I just need to get warm. I’ll be fine after I get some sleep.”
10
Falke stayed awake as long as he could, watching over the woman next to him. All his aches and pains had suddenly disappeared. He felt alive, healthy, and strong. It was as if he could conquer the whole world, as if he could make love to the woman in his arms ninety times. He’d tried to go and get her crew for help, but she’d told him not to. He’d tried to get her to call her personal medic thing, but she wouldn’t do that either. He’d even tried to call it himself to no avail. The ship’s computer didn’t answer him. Sam had chuckled at that, a weak sound, but a sound nonetheless.
When he could think of nothing else, he did the only thing he could. He held her to the crook of his body and willed his heat to go to her. After a couple of hours, her skin flushed with a rosy hue and her body warmed. She seemed to relax against his hold, cuddling her back along the length of him.
Falke watched her as she slept. His fingers slipped through the silky strands of her hair, and he looked at the purple in utter fascination with the color. He liked the way her body fit into the curve of his, soft and yielding, almost as if she trusted him to protect her. The strangest thing was he felt compelled to protect her. His body still wanted her, ached for her touch, but for once he didn’t feel the urgent need to copulate again and again. Just that one time left him feeling more sated than he’d ever been in his life.
Falke pulled her closer to him, allowing his arm to rest over her stomach and up beside her breasts. He felt her heart beating steadily against his palm as his fingers moved to cup her. Finally convincing himself that she was all right, Falke closed his eyes and drifted into an exhausted sleep.
Sam felt much better when she awoke. She blinked. Her back was still a little sore, but that was going away. It had taken a lot of energy to heal herself this time. Glancing over at Falke, she let loose a shaky breath. He was asleep on his back. The hand closest to her rested possessively on her hip.
The Var prince was beautiful, so stunningly handsome. His lips were parted, drawing breath. His dark hair spilled over the silver sheets. She felt the hand on her hip twitch slightly in a little caress. Sliding out from beneath him, she stood naked by the bed.
What had she done? What was she thinking? He was a stranger, a man she had kidnapped by mistake. And, not only that, he was royalty. How could she have been so foolish? Sam sighed. It was clear she’d have no willpower when it came to the Var captive. Already she felt her body stirring to life. Her lips tingled, wanting to wake him up with her kisses. She felt chilled now that she was removed from his warmth, though not as cold as the night before.
“Oh,” she breathed. This wasn’t good. She was afraid that she’d have to stop and see her father now. Sam didn’t want to. She didn’t want to go back. Feeling her hands tremble, she looked at them. She really had no choice.
I just have to stay away from you until we get there, she thought desperately.
Looking up at the manacles on the bed, she crept forward and grabbed one. She lifted the heavy weight and set it on the bed. It was a good thing he was on his back, or else she wouldn’t be able to reach him. She moved the shackle around his wrist and clicked it shut. Red lights ran up the cuff indicating it was locked. Then, going to the other side, she did the same thing. Falke moaned but didn’t wake up.
Hurrying to her dresser, Sam grabbed a dark jumpsuit and slid it on. The tight material formed to her body, outlining it. Feeling somehow self-conscious, she slipped a baggier shirt over the top of it. Then going to the vanity, she saw that her hair was sticking up at odd angles from sleep.
Pressing a hidden button along the edge of the mirror, she watched as hair style options were laid out before her. She scanned them quickly, short all crimson red, waist length brown and silver, pulled back, pulled up. The options were essentially endless. Impulsively, she pressed a button. She couldn’t go really long. That would take a while since her hair was medium length. The ceiling opened and a headpiece fitted over her. Her scalp tingled, and seconds later her straightened hair was a smooth, shoulder length blonde, with an unnatural red streak along the side.
Sam hit the button, turning the mirror off. She glanced at the bed. Falke still slept. She knew that he’d be especially tired after last night. If not for that, she had a feeling she’d never have been able to bind him without waking him first.
“It’s better for both of us this way,” Sam whispered, so softly she wasn’t sure if her lips just moved or if she actually spoke. Then, placing her hand on the wall, she watched the door slide open and stepped out into the hall.
11
“Yo, hey, look. She’s got red on today. Something’s wrong,” Lucien said, his eyes lifting from his breakfast to gaze at Sam. Instantly, all eyes of her crew turned to her, except for Rick, who wasn’t there.
“What is it?” Evan asked.
“It’s nothing,” Sam said, giving a strange look. Evan concentrated on her and knew he was trying to pick up something.
“You’re lying,” he said carefully. “You’re trying to hide something.
“Stop doing that, Evan,” she grumbled. “Stay out of my head.”
“Sam, we’re your family. You can tell us,” Viktor said.
Then, to everyone’s surprise, the usually quiet Dev stated, “Leave her be.”
Sam’s violet eyes flew to him, and he nodded his head slightly in acknowledgment. Dev knew. She could see it in his stoic expression. He knew what she’d done.
“No, Sam, come on,” Evan said. “You can trust us.”
“I know I can trust you guys,” she mumbled. She sat down. Viktor offered to get her food, and she shook her head in denial.
“We’d never judge you,” Lucien added.
“I know,” Sam said.
“Well then?” Evan asked.
“I might have taken Viktor and Rick’s advice about the prince,” she answered, her voice low and her cheeks coloring. She knew they’d keep prying until they found out something. She just hoped they’d be content with that much and not look any deeper.
All eyes turned to Viktor in question. A big grin spread over his features, and he nodded his head in an obnoxiously cocky way, stating, “Oh, yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.”
“What?” Lucien and Evan demanded at once.
“Our captain here got herself laid last night,” Viktor stated, still nodding in swaggering male approval.
“What?” Rick’s voice came from the door. She could practically hear the grin in his voice. “You finally blow out the old cobwebs, cap?”
“Gross, Rick,” she mumbled, but everyone else started laughing, and she couldn’t help but smile. These guys really were her family. They’d been there for her when no one else cared. And she’d been there for them when they’d needed her the most.
“Ah, you know what I mean,” Rick answered lightly. He came over and tousled her sleek hairstyle. Stopping, he said, “Uh-oh, red. What’s wrong? He not any good?”
“I felt like red,” Sam defended.
“The last time you picked red was after you found out your father wanted you to sign a betrothal agreement,” Evan stated.
“The time before that, I recall it was a Tuesday,” Viktor added. Sam scrunched up her face. “The Tuesday.”
She’d missed the sacred Ticara coronation dinner. None of them was allowed to mention it, but it had happened on a Tuesday, so that’s what they called it. “Oh, yeah, I forgot.”
“So, red huh, what’s up today?”
Evan demanded.
“You know, the problem with deep space travel is that you don’t get any privacy from the rest of the crew,” Sam grumbled. She felt Rick move behind her. Suddenly, Viktor and Lucien stood up.
“All right, Captain, have it your way,” Evan said, standing as well.
Sam sighed. They were going to leave her alone about things for once. Dev stood and moved toward the door. She sighed again. Bless the stars, they were going to give her privacy. She leaned her head down on the tabletop.
“We’ll just have to go ask the Var prince for ourselves,” Evan announced.
Sam’s head shot up in horror at the sound of footfall running away from her. She jumped to her feet, knocking her knee into the table. “Ow! Damn it! Guys get back here. Don’t you dare go into my room. I’m warning you.”
Sam swore she heard one of them laughing at her. Limping and running at the same time, she tried to stop them. She was too late. By the time she caught up to them, they were already making their way through her door.
“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” Rick exclaimed.
Sam grimaced, not needing to understand the strange phrase to get the general idea of it. It was official. She was going to take away all of Rick’s twenty-first century Earth memorabilia.
Sam hesitated before following them inside. Her eyes were on the floor, and she could feel Falke’s glare before she saw it. Looking up, she saw his dark eyes. They pierced her with his anger. His hands were still bound, locked tight. Thankfully, the silver sheets were draped over his waist, and only his naked torso showed. Just seeing him made her body quiver with the desire to go to him. The pull was strong, and it took every last bit of her concentration to resist.
“We had no idea,” Viktor whispered, “that you were into this stuff.”
“Come on, guys, get out of here,” she mumbled, gently pushing Evan to the door. He stumbled, his eyes finding her. If she didn’t know better, he looked a little hurt. “Come on, I said go.”
The Bound Prince Page 7
