Draekon Pirate

by Lee Savino

  Azeer gives me a confused look. “The replacement navigator just arrived. Didn’t the Captain tell you?”

  “What replacement navigator?”

  He doesn’t answer; he doesn’t need to. I round the corner to the bridge…

  And Mirak’s there.

  On the Mahala. Again.

  This time, evidently, he’s here with Thel’s permission.

  Everyone falls silent.

  My headache intensifies. I’m the Second-in-Command. Supposedly.

  Yet Zabek feels emboldened enough to disobey a direct order.

  Thel—who I love, who I trusted—doesn’t keep me in the loop on his crew decisions.

  Most of all, I feel betrayed by Mirak. Because we were together at Zuha, and he had every opportunity to tell me about this.

  And he didn’t.

  Fuck everything.

  Would I have slept with him, knowing he was soon going to be part of the crew?

  Maybe. I don’t know. All I know was that he didn’t give me a chance to choose. And Mirak, more than anyone else, should know what it feels like when your choices are taken away from you.

  I step up to him, conscious that every single person on the bridge is watching me. “Did you know?” I ask him, my voice low. “At Zuha, did you know you were going to be our navigator?”

  His expression fills with regret. “Yes.”

  I pivot on my heel and walk away. Mirak lied to me, and I can’t take it. Not on top of everything else.

  19

  Mirak

  It takes everything in my power not to run after her.

  I want to—Caeron, I want to. Diana is my mate. She’s upset, and it’s my fault. My dragon roars in fury and demands that I fix this. Right now. Right away, so my mate is not unhappy for even a moment longer.

  But I cannot. I’ve been hired to be the Mahala’s navigator, and I’m in the middle of a work shift. If I leave the bridge and follow Diana, it’ll do two things. It’ll tell Theldre that I’m not reliable, thus jeopardizing my mission to convince him to either join the Rebellion and/or turn his spy network over to Dariux and Zunix.

  More importantly, it’ll put Diana in a really difficult place. If I walk away mid-shift and she doesn’t punish me, the crew will take note. Already, Zabek is making her life difficult. I refuse to let my actions further undermine her authority on the pirate ship.

  The four pirates on the bridge are speaking to each other in hushed voices. The first one to recover is the Ekton who’d walked in along with Diana. Azeer, the Third-in-Command. He looks around at the gossiping pirates, and his expression turns stormy. “Do you not have anything to do?” he snaps. “Hani’vi, where are our clearances for take-off? Axion, have you finished the instrumentation checklist? Fourth, are you done with your calculations?” He growls deep in his throat. “If the lot of you don’t get to work, I will personally toss you out of the nearest airlock. Is that clear?”

  I get to work, gritting my teeth, ignoring my dragon’s increasing unhappiness as each knur ticks by. Our next destination is the Rompthik sector, and I set the ship’s course accordingly. It takes me longer than it would on the Isad. The nav computer is unfamiliar to me, and the Mahala is significantly larger than my cloakship, something I have to take into account as I do my calculations.

  Azeer keeps a watchful eye on me as I work. When I’m done, he nods grudgingly. “You know what you’re doing.”

  “I was taught by an Ekton,” I tell him absently, my mind still on Diana.

  “You were?”

  It’s unusual for me to volunteer information, but I’m inclined to like the Ekton pirate. He’s gruff, and there’s a no-nonsense air about him, but he’s protective of Diana, which is the only thing that’s important. “A long time ago.” I lock the settings, set an alert to monitor any course deviations, and sync my screen with the nav computer. “We should be all set. The first jump will take ten hours. If anything unexpected happens, I’ll get a notification, but I’ll also do a full system check in eight hours.” I pause, realizing that I’m not in charge. This will be different. “If that’s okay with you?”

  “That’s fine. That’s more or less the schedule Parani followed. You’ll be bunking in her quarters. Level 2, Corridor 4. Do you need help finding it?”

  I shake my head. Standing up, I hoist my pack on my shoulder. The Mahala’s layout is Empire-standard. Besides, I’m not going to my quarters. I need to talk to Diana.

  I knock on her door.

  “Who is it?” Her voice sounds wary.

  “Mirak.”

  “Go away.”

  “Diana, please.” I take a deep breath. “I owe you an explanation.”

  The door swings open, and she’s there, fire in her eyes. “Damn right you do,” she clenches out. “You lied to me to get into my pants. Fuck off, Mirak. It might be a game to you, but this is my life that you’re messing with.”

  I wince. I know how it looks, and it’s not good. “I deserve every insult you hurl at me,” I tell her. “Will you please let me explain?”

  She hesitates. I see the conflict on her face as she debates whether to slam the door in my face. “Fine. Explain.”

  “Can we have this discussion inside? Everyone on this ship is exceedingly interested in us.”

  She huffs in exasperation and steps aside so I can enter. The door shuts behind us. “They have bets on when we’re going to make out,” she says. “I swear to God, nobody gossips as much as this crew.” She perches on the edge of a chair. “Talk.”

  “I didn’t deliberately withhold information from you. I just forgot.”

  “You forgot that you were going to be our navigator. That’s convenient.”

  I run my hand over my face. “It’s also true.” I stare at her. She’s so gorgeous. So alive, so filled with passion and heat and fire. “I look at you, and all thought flees my mind. Is that really so difficult to believe, spitfire? I’ve never hid the effect you have on me. From the day you threw your knife at me, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. Your face is the last thing I see when I fall asleep. The first thing that dances in front of me when I wake up.”

  She swallows. For a second, the need in her eyes matches mine, and then she wipes her face free of expression. “Why are you on the Mahala, Fourth?”

  Fourth. My designation has never felt like more of a slap.

  “The Rebellion needs a spy network. I’m here to recruit Theldre. I reached out to him after Besep 3. He declined. He’s not confident in Tarish’s ability to keep his spies safe. But he’s wavering. By offering me the navigator job, Theldre left the door open to future attempts. I’m here because I’m still hoping to convince him that he needs to throw in with the Rebellion.”

  She hasn’t kicked you out yet. Keep talking. “I don’t want to be here.” That’s only a half-truth. Being here, in the same room as Diana, close enough that I could reach out and caress her skin, is welcome torture. I look at her rumpled bed, and I imagine myself sharing it. For the first time, I find myself wanting what Kadir has with Alice, what Ruhan has with Lani.

  “First loathes me,” I continue. “He wants to find me, imprison me, and use my genes to create a new wave of Draekons. My presence on the Mahala puts you in danger, and I hate that. But without intelligence, we cannot hope to beat First. And then there’s the complicating factor. You’re passing on information about Blood Heart to the Rebellion. If First finds out…” My voice trails off. “Before I got to Zuha, all I could think was that any association with me would put you in grave danger. Then you got there, and it was impossible to walk away.”

  What am I doing? This doesn’t make any sense. I shouldn’t even be here. I shouldn’t be imagining sharing her bed. Today, with First in Avela—that was a close call. Had I not been in a position to intervene, First would have torn Diana to shreds.

  I antagonized him badly today. Right now, he believes I’m working for the Rebellion. What happens if he discovers the truth? What happens if h
e finds out I’m on the Mahala?

  I need to convince Theldre he’s better off with the Rebellion, and I need to get the hell away from Diana.

  And yet, here I am. Tugged to her, the way I have been from the start, because a thread connects us, a primal need that won’t be denied.

  Diana’s still not saying anything.

  I reach into my pack and pull out her knife, the one I took from her the first time we met. “This is yours.” I take a deep breath. “I respect you immensely. If me being here has caused you difficulty, I’m sorry. I apologize from the bottom of my heart.”

  Diana—my mate—doesn’t respond.

  I’ve screwed up. Big time.

  It’s probably for the best.

  I turn to walk away.

  20

  Diana

  He turns away. He’s leaving.

  I don’t want him to go.

  “Wait.”

  He slowly turns around.

  This time, I can’t blame the booze. I can’t even pretend the Vabrian is the reason my inhibitions are lowered.

  Is it professional that I want to sleep with Mirak? Hell no. Can I bring myself to care? Not right now.

  The truth is, I’m not angry with Mirak. Yeah, he should have mentioned the navigator thing, but let’s be real. There are so many things going on right now that I’m furious about, and as it goes, Mirak’s omission doesn’t even make the list.

  My biggest issue is with Zabek. His numerous attempts at questioning my authority, and then the incident today, where petty defiance had tipped over to outright insubordination and cold-blooded murder.

  Plus, if I have an issue with Mirak being on the Mahala, I really need to take it up with Thel, who hired him, and then forgot to mention it to me.

  “You don’t have to go.” I swallow hard. “We still have unfinished business…”

  His eyes darken with desire, but he stays exactly where he is. “Do we?”

  Your face is the last thing I see when I fall asleep. The first thing that dances in front of me when I wake up.

  Mirak has never pretended he didn’t desire me. I owe him—no, even more than him, I owe myself—the same kind of honesty. “You made me come. I want to reciprocate.” I feel like I’m jumping off the edge of a cliff. “That is, if you still want to.”

  He moves. Before I can blink, he pushes me against the wall, his huge body caging me. “Oh, I do, Diana,” he rumbles, as his lips capture mine. “I always want you.”

  I surge to my tiptoes, plastering myself against him. We kiss. Our tongues spar, duel, and tease. I find myself smiling against his mouth as I push on his shoulders, steering him backward to the bed. He grins back, allowing me to push him. There’s no way I could make him move otherwise. I’m not weak, but his muscles might as well be made of granite.

  I shove hard, and he huffs a laugh, letting himself fall back on the bed. He’s letting me take control, and I love it. I’m grinning like a goofball as I shake out my hair, undo my weapons belt, unbuckle the sheaths around my thighs, and pull off my pants. Followed by my underwear. Last time, Mirak ripped a perfectly good pair, and I don’t want my entire lingerie drawer to be victims of our lovemaking.

  The dragon’s eyes ignite with desire.

  He tears off his shirt and undoes his pants. He never takes his gaze off me. I shimmy my hips a little, enjoying the open appreciation in his eyes. I kick off my boots, and the blades embedded in their soles catch Mirak’s attention. His lips twitch. “Dangerous little human,” he says, his voice coated with laughter. “Should I be afraid?”

  Before he can move, I grab a knife and lunge. The tip flashes at the hollow of his throat, quick as a blink. Mirak doesn’t have time to react or rear back. One deep breath and the knife will slice him.

  “I don’t know,” I purr. “Should you? How quickly can a Draekon heal?”

  The laugh rumbles deep in his chest. He closes his fingers around my wrist and gently draws it to his lips, kissing the back of my hand. The knife clatters to the floor, forgotten.

  Some people flirt with compliments and flowers. Mirak and I prefer taunts and knives.

  “So eager to add to my scars?” He’s still chuckling as he pushes off the bed and rips open my shirt. Buttons fly everywhere. My bra follows.

  I’m completely naked. So is he. For a second, all thought flees my brain. All I can do is stare at his thick length and drool.

  Only for a second.

  I lunge at him, knocking him on his back. He drags me with him. I let him throw me down, then attack. We mock tussle, rolling and wrestling on my bed until it creaks.

  I end up on top of Mirak. His hard, muscled chest heaves under me. My legs straddle his. His hands are at my hips, holding me over his thick, throbbing erection.

  If I slam my hips down, I’ll slide right onto his hot, hard cock.

  His eyes hold mine. “Yes?” he asks.

  Oh God, yes. I need this. My pussy is wet and ready. My entire body aches for this. For him.

  “Yes.” I try to sound cocky, but the word comes out as a whisper.

  He guides his first few inches inside my entrance, his fingers gripping my hips. His eyes are hooded, his face set in lines of need and want. Impatience surges in me. I can’t wait, not anymore. I rest my hands on his shoulders and impale myself on his length.

  Mirak clenches his eyes shut. I feel faint. Undone by pleasure. Mirak is huge, and I’m tight, but I love how he stretches me. Inch by delicious inch, his cock drives everything but satisfaction from my mind.

  For a moment, I hold still, letting my body adjust to his size. His fingers tease my nipples, and sensation shivers through me. My muscles contract around his hard length. He groans out loud, and I move forward, bracing my hands on his shoulders, and tentatively rock back and forth.

  “Diana,” he laughs, his teeth flashing with delight, as if he’s happily shocked that I’m here. His big hands cover my ass, palming and squeezing, encouraging me to move without forcing it. I grind down on his shaft, feeling his rock-hard cock fill me completely.

  “Mirak,” I whisper.

  “So, it’s back to Mirak then.” His voice is breathless too.

  He noticed. “Mmm,” I grunt. I was angry with him earlier. Not now. Now I can’t think of anything but the intense, radiant pleasure that has taken over every nerve in my body.

  I rest my hands on his chest—hello again, sexy pierced nipples—and get serious about rocking on his cock. I bounce on his shaft, grinding my aching clit against his hard length. I ride him until my body shines with a sheen of sweat. Until I’m convinced that I’m going to combust from an explosion of sensation. Until my orgasm winks at me from just around the corner.

  I tilt my hips and rub myself against him, searching for my climax, frantic to catch it. Tingles spread up my spine and bloom into white-hot pleasure. This is intense and overwhelming, and I can’t get enough of it. Blood pounds in my head. A flush spreads across my chest. My climax hurtles toward me in a thunderous wave, and I tip over, gasping.

  I fall back on the bed. Mirak shifts, positioning me on my side. Straddling my lower leg, he thrusts deep inside me. My right leg is high in the air, half propped on his shoulder, and his left hand squeezes my breast. It’s a crazy tangle, but the angle lets him go deep, deeper than he was before. He pounds into me, and the movement rubs a needy spot inside me.

  My next orgasm creeps up on me, growing in intensity, billowing out to eclipse everything else. My fingers fist in the sheets. I hang on as if gravity has lost its grip on me. Another climax blasts through me, sending me into orbit. I scream and erupt, twisting and flailing. My vision fills with stars.

  Awareness slowly returns. Mirak is holding my right leg aloft, resting it on his chest as he jackhammers into me. I’m still cumming, hard, the muscles of my stomach taut, my inner walls rippling with pleasure. Mirak growls, and my toes curl at the sound. Shockwaves spread through me as he buries himself deep and comes, flooding my pussy with delicious heat.


  Oh wow.

  Eventually, I prop myself on my elbow. Mirak lies back on my bed. He looks sated. A thrill runs through me. “Well,” I say, finding my voice. “At least this time, you got to come.” Once. Meanwhile, I came three, four, maybe even five times? I don’t remember. It’s all a blur. “Though we’re still not even.”

  He chuckles. “It’s okay, spitfire. I’m not keeping count.” His big hand cups my face. He gives me a serious look. “Do you want me to go?”

  A pang shocks my heart. “No,” I say quickly. “I’m not done with you yet.”

  Again with the cocky raised eyebrow. “Is that so?”

  “Yep.” I rise and push off the bed, my knees unsteady. “I’m going to shower. Join me? Unless you’re already worn out?”

  “Those are fighting words, spitfire,” he growls. I wobble, and he catches me in his arms and carries me to my private bathroom, a perk of being the Second-in-Command. He deposits me in the shower. “You might be the death of me. I’ll try to survive.”

  “So much for the vaunted Draekon strength,” I tease. I turn on the water and tug him to join me under the spray. For a moment, we just stand there, letting the warm water rinse away our sweat.

  Mirak is huge, almost too big to fit in the tight cube of my shower. There’s some bumbling, bumping awkwardness as I turn to find the soap. But he doesn’t care, and neither do I.

  His hands stroke down my wet skin, igniting a new fire. Or stoking the old one. Like my orgasms, I can’t tell when one sensation ends and another begins. I arch my back and sway on my feet.

  “Easy,” he murmurs, steadying me.

  I grab hold of my senses. “You might not be keeping score,” I tell him. “But I am. It’s my turn.”

  Let’s see if I can make him as mindless as he seems to make me.