Maxon rose, breathing deeply.
“We’ll take care of cleanup,” Magnus said. “You take care of Bellamy, and your injuries.”
“Injuries?” Bellamy jolted. She strode toward Maxon and saw the blood on his shirt, soaking the fabric.
She made a noise, gripped the hem of his shirt and yanked it up.
Several deep cuts covered his chest and abdomen, where the assassin’s blade had caught him.
“You need to get to Medical,” she said.
“No, I don’t.”
She glared at him. “You do.”
He shot her a mutinous look, his eyes looking like melted gold.
Hmm. Time for a change of tactics. She staggered a little and he caught her arm.
“Bellamy?”
“I don’t…feel great.”
He slid an arm around her. “Magnus, I’m taking Bellamy back to the House of Rone.”
The imperator nodded, but Maxon was already leading her to the closest tunnel.
Bellamy tried to keep the smile off her face. She had no qualms about her little trick. The man had a hard head, and wouldn’t listen to reason.
They moved quickly through the tunnels, and soon came to the doors of the House of Rone, flanked by two cyborg guards. The guards nodded and opened the doors for them.
“I’m feeling a bit better,” she said.
Maxon’s head whipped around and he eyed her.
“Can we go to your workshop?” she asked. “I’ll take care of your cuts there.”
His gaze turned suspicious, but he led her up the stairs. Once they were in his workshop, she shoved him toward the couch.
“You aren’t feeling faint?” he asked.
She snorted. “I haven’t felt faint once in my life.”
His eyes narrowed. “Little liar.”
She yanked his shirt over his head. “I do whatever I need to do to get the job done. These need attention.”
Ow. Sympathy ran through her. Two of the cuts were really deep and had to hurt.
She strode over to the sink and rinsed out a cloth. Then she knelt beside him and started cleaning the blood away.
“The bleeding’s stopped,” she said.
“My cyborg systems can direct blood flow away from injured locations.”
“That is so amazing.”
Next, she grabbed the medical kit he’d used on her scraped finger. She pulled out the tube of med gel.
“One of the Earth women, Regan, enhanced the gel,” he said. “It works far more effectively now.”
“I didn’t get to meet her tonight.”
“She’s pregnant, and her gladiator mate, Thorin, is…overprotective.”
“You guys are all overprotective all the time.” She carefully smoothed the med gel onto his cuts.
“Here.” He took the tube and squeezed some onto his fingers. “There’s blood on your shoulder.”
She twisted and saw the rip in her shirt. “Those insect bots got me.”
He reached through the tear, rubbing the gel on the small cuts.
“It’s just a graze.” She went back to tending his lacerations.
Then she heard his breath catch.
Her fingers stilled and she looked up. They were both pressed close together, touching each other. Desire danced in his eyes, and she felt an echoing flood of reaction right between her legs.
She licked her lips. “Maxon.”
* * *
Maxon gripped Bellamy’s arms, his fingers sliding over the beautiful, colorful ink on her arms.
He remembered the glimpses of the tattoos on her belly, and he wanted to see them again, too.
She stroked his shoulders. “Do the cuts still hurt?”
“No. I can block the pain, but they are minor. Yours?”
“They barely sting.” She leaned against his leg. “Thanks for protecting me.”
He slid a hand down and cupped the back of her skull. “I don’t want to desire you.”
Her lips parted, the corners quirking. Her gaze dropped to the heavy bulge in his trousers. “Can’t you turn it off? Like the pain?”
“No,” he growled. “I tried.”
She ran her hand down his arm. “I understand. I don’t want to want you either. I never expected to get rescued and feel so damn drawn to someone.”
He pulled her closer. He was trying to fight the urge, but he needed to taste her. In his head, he kept seeing that drakking assassin lunging for her.
Their mouths crashed together. Maxon plunged his tongue into her mouth and she moaned. He took his time, drawing in the tart taste of her.
Then she pulled back. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“The cuts are already healing.”
Her hands stroked an unmarked part of his chest. “God, I love your skin, your muscles—”
He kissed her again. She undulated against his leg and then he pulled her onto the couch, and pushed her onto her back.
Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted.
She wanted him. She didn’t look at him with horror or disgust that he was a cyborg. Or worse, the curious, twisted lust he saw sometimes in men and women who wanted sex with cyborgs.
Bellamy’s body arched with pure, undiluted desire.
“God, I feel like I’m on fire. Touch me, Maxon.”
He wanted his hands on her more than anything he’d wanted before. He ran his fingers down her chest, between her high, firm breasts.
He wanted to see the markings on her skin. Roughly, he opened the fastenings on her shirt and shoved it aside. She was wearing no underwear beneath, and his gaze locked on the pink nipples that were hard little nubs. She had a toned stomach, and those gorgeous markings circling her navel and climbing up her body.
With a growl, he lowered his head to her breast. He licked her nipple and she purred. He took his time—sucking, nipping, tasting. Her hand sank into his hair.
“The other one too,” she murmured.
He obeyed, sucking the other sweet nipple into his mouth. She rocked against him and moaned his name.
Maxon had vague recollections of sex with Silva. She’d always been worried about how she looked, wanted it over fast, and had never made a noise.
Bellamy writhed beneath him, her husky cries leaving no doubt as to how she felt.
Maxon moved his mouth down her belly and traced the elegant tattoos with his tongue.
“You like my ink?” she panted.
He nodded against her skin. “You’re gorgeous.”
Her chest hitched.
Pausing, he looked up at her face. “No one’s told you that before?”
She shook her head. “Sexy, fuckable,” she swallowed. “Not gorgeous.”
“Earth men must be idiots,” he said.
She smiled. “Something tells me that you think most people are idiots.”
“I’m usually right.”
He stroked between her legs, over the seam of her trousers. Her hips lifted and she let out a husky groan.
“You want to touch me there?” she asked silkily.
“Yes.”
Together, they got her trousers open, and he yanked them down her legs. He felt a twinge in his cuts but he ignored it.
Then Bellamy was naked. His cock throbbed, heat like a blow torch inside him. So drakking pretty. He stroked her folds—so soft, so wet.
She moaned. “Just like that.”
He explored her, moving up to the swollen little nub that made her writhe.
“My clit,” she panted. “It’s a bundle of nerves—”
She broke off into a moan as he rolled it between his fingers. He wanted to stay there, but he moved his fingers lower.
“There,” she moaned. “Slide a finger inside me.”
Demanding little thing. Hearing her sexy words drove Maxon out of his mind. He carefully slid a finger inside her slick warmth.
“Another one,” she demanded.
He obeyed. Drak, she was tight. Her green eyes were luminous as she watc
hed him.
“Do you want more?” she asked.
“I want to pleasure you,” he said.
“Then taste me.”
He frowned. He’d already kissed her—
She parted her legs wider, lifted her hips. Oh. Need hit him like a hammer. Drak, yes.
With a growl, he shifted and lowered his head and put his mouth on her.
Her husky cry hit him in the gut. Maxon dragged in the sweet, musky taste of her. With another growl, he lapped, then thrust his tongue inside her.
She went wild beneath him. She was like this because of him. Because of what he was doing to her.
He moved back to her clit. Her hands yanked on his hair.
“Yes. More, Maxon. Please.”
He worked that small nub, his hand stroking up her body, splayed over her taut belly to hold her still.
A second later, her body stiffened, then she shuddered. “Yes! Yes! Maxon.”
He watched pleasure flow through her, her cries the best thing he’d ever heard.
Chapter Eight
Bellamy couldn’t remember feeling this good in a really, really, really long time.
Maxon had magic hands and a magic tongue. Right now, he leaned over her—eyes like melted gold, face filled with intense hunger.
There was a noise in the corridor outside and Bellamy muttered a curse.
Quickly, he flicked a blanket over her naked body.
A worker appeared at the workshop door.
“Leave,” Maxon boomed.
At his voice, the woman’s eyes went as wide as dinner plates.
“Now!” he roared.
The woman scuttled away, and Bellamy slapped a hand over her eyes and burst out laughing.
“What’s so funny?” he grumbled.
She looked up at him. “If that poor woman had been a few minutes earlier, she would’ve gotten a real eyeful.”
His lips twitched.
“You smiled,” she said.
“Did not.” He rose.
Her gaze drifted down his impressive body before settling on his even more impressive erection, straining the front of his trousers.
“Since we’re here, we may as well work,” he said.
“I have a better idea,” she drawled.
He hesitated, his gaze on her face. “No.”
“What?” She sat up. Despite her orgasm, she wasn’t done with him. “Why? We both want it.”
“You’ve had a rough night. You were attacked, and someone tried to kill you.”
“I’ve had a rough few months.” Hell, a rough life. “You know what would go a long way to making me feel better? An orgasm.”
“I gave you one already.”
“Another orgasm,” she persisted.
Maxon pulled her up to stand and the blanket fell away. She was gratified to see him look at her body, a muscle ticking in his jaw. He grabbed her clothes and started slipping them back on.
“Man, I’m standing here naked, and you’re treating me like a kid.”
He fastened her shirt and pulled her up on her toes. He pressed a hard, demanding kiss to her mouth. She moaned against his delicious mouth, tasting herself on his lips. So damn sexy.
“I do not think of you as a child.”
Bellamy made a sound, trying to get her brain firing.
“Come on.” He tugged her over to a bench and handed her a tool. “I made this for you.”
She blinked, eyeing the slender device. “You made this for me?”
He shrugged a shoulder. “You have small hands.” A pause. “You’ll get more work done with the right tool.”
Warmth bloomed in her chest like a flower. “Thank you.”
If she wasn’t mistaken, there was faint color in his cheeks.
“See what you can do with that prototype. It’s been giving me a hard time.” He turned her so she faced some sort of crossbow resting on the bench.
He got to work on a sword, firing up his forge and setting some metal on it to melt.
Bellamy realized that in his own way, he was taking care of her, and taking her mind off things. Despite everything, she smiled.
“What?” He scowled at her.
“Nothing.” She set to work on the crossbow and hummed happily.
When his scowl deepened, her smile widened. Damn, she loved needling him. They worked quietly, finding a rhythm. Bellamy felt herself relax.
She worked on the crossbow firing mechanism, losing herself in the work. Finally, she stretched her neck and turned. She swallowed.
God, the man was something to look at. Maxon had stripped his shirt off, and his chest was sweaty. He was now hammering some metal into shape. A high-tech device skimmed up and down the metal, cooling it.
She watched as he worked until he was happy with it, and then he set the new sword on the rack.
She could watch him work all night.
He grabbed a drink of water, tipping the bottle back and chugging from it.
“How’s it going?” he asked.
She nodded and waved a hand at the crossbow.
He wandered closer, taking another sip of the water. She could smell the sweat on his skin and stifled a moan.
He studied her work, touched it, then made a humming sound. “Not bad.”
“High praise coming from you.”
He opened a drawer and pulled something out. When he came back, she saw him holding some sort of snack bar. He broke it in half, and handed her some.
She fiddled with it. “So, I guess the Edull want me dead.”
“Crudspawn are going to be disappointed.”
The solid certainly in his voice made the tight knot she hadn’t even known she was nursing in her chest ease.
“I want to make them pay. They use and kill others for entertainment and profit.” She slammed her tool onto the bench. “I need to be a part of bringing the arena down.”
Maxon eyed her steadily. “Even if it puts you at risk?”
She lifted her chin. “I need this, Maxon.”
Finally, he nodded. “Okay. I can assure you that Magnus and the House of Rone are fully behind this. Magnus won’t stop until the Edull are dust.”
Bellamy felt the traitorous prick of tears behind her eyes and beat it back. It felt so strange and so good to have all these people caring for her.
“Now, get back to work,” he grumbled. “There are no lazy assistants in this workshop.”
“So, I’m your assistant, huh?”
“Here.” He lifted the crossbow and nudged some sort of metallic circular device across the bench. “Put it on here.”
He touched something and then let the crossbow go. It levitated in midair above the device, spinning gently. She touched it and realized it would be much easier to work on.
She stroked the cool metal of the device. “This is magnetic?”
“Yes.”
Bellamy stared at the spinning crossbow, her brain firing.
“Bellamy?”
Excitement was like a storm inside her. She spun and jumped on him, clamping her legs around his lean waist. She smacked a kiss to his lips.
His big hand cupped the back of her head and they went at each other, hard and fast.
When she finally lifted her mouth off his, they were both breathing heavily.
“What was that for?” His voice was deep and raspy.
She grinned. “I have an idea for how we can destroy the Bari Batu arena.”
* * *
Maxon had a worker summon Magnus to his office. It was late, and even after the cleanup required at the arena, he guessed Magnus was in bed.
Bellamy was looking out the windows, her face pensive. He much preferred her writhing in pleasure under his hands.
His body throbbed and he locked his desire down. Now wasn’t the time.
Magnus arrived. “Is everyone all right?”
“Fine,” Maxon replied.
If the imperator had been sleeping, he certainly didn’t look like it now. His hair was neat,
his face alert.
“Bellamy had an idea about the battle arena,” Maxon said.
She moved forward. “You know that all the Bari Batu buildings can be lowered and raised into huge holes in the sand.”
Magnus inclined his head.
Somehow, the Edull had excavated huge voids in the desert, and used advanced tech to levitate their buildings and structures over them. It was how the aliens had kept the desert city hidden for a very long time. Maxon would kill to be able to study the tech.
“They use some sort of magnetic fields to do this,” Bellamy said. “If we disrupt the magnetic technology—” she smiled “—the arena will crash down into its hole. Suffering irreparable damage.”
Magnus was silent a moment. “You’ve seen the tech?”
She winced. “No. As far as I know, they keep the mag-tech well hidden and don’t let any slaves near it.”
“It’s a good idea, Bellamy.” Magnus crossed his arms. “We still need more intel. We need to know where this tech is and how to destroy it, but it’s an excellent start.”
She dragged in a deep breath, and Maxon felt a faint tickle along his intuitive senses. He stiffened.
“I need to be a part of this, Magnus.” She stared Maxon straight in the eyes. “I need to help bring the Edull down.”
Maxon’s gut clenched. “No. It’s too dangerous.”
“I need this.” Her gaze narrowed. “I told you before, you can’t boss me around and tell me what to do. I had an asshole do that to me once. He tried to control me.”
Maxon wanted to tear whoever the man was to shreds. “I don’t want to control you. I want to keep you safe.”
“Then help me make myself safe, Maxon. The Edull took so much—” her voice cracked “—so damn much from me. I want to get it back.”
Maxon gripped the back of a chair, emotions twisting inside him. The overwhelming urge to ensure Bellamy wasn’t in danger was hard to wrestle with. “We just got you safe and you want to go back into danger.”
She scrubbed a hand over her hair. “I don’t want to be in danger, but I’ll take some risks to burn the Edull’s arena all down. To take back my strength and power.” She paused. “Help me.”
Drak. The chair back cracked under the pressure of his fingers. The thing was, he understood. After his family’s betrayal, he’d felt like nothing. Everything he’d trusted and known had been obliterated. He’d had to build a new life, a new him, from scratch.
Weapons Master: Galactic Gladiators: House of Rone #6 Page 6
