No Such Thing

by Michelle O'Leary

  My Ryelle.

  "God, you’re beautiful," he groaned, feeling the urgency begin to build in his body again, the grinding ache that threatened his control. He tried desperately to ignore the sultry slide of her talent through his body, to focus on the sensation of running his hand from her breast over her flat stomach and down the inside of a sleek thigh. "You feel like silk."

  She was shivering under his touch, but her hands weren’t idle either, caressing his chest and finding the spot on his abdomen that made his muscles flinch and tense. "No, you’re the beautiful one," she whispered. "Oh, Declan, if I’d known what was under those damn uniforms, I would have stripped you bare the moment I got here."

  "Same here," he growled, leaning down to close his lips over her nipple, fingers sliding back up her thigh to drift through tantalizing dark curls.

  She whimpered deep in her throat, body twisting under him, hands clutching at him with a desperation he understood to his soul. "Declan, you’re driving me—ah!"

  His fingers slipped through slick, hot flesh, finding a wet, throbbing welcome that slapped hard lust through him in an unexpected fury. He suckled hard on her nipple as he drove his fingers into her, growling low in his throat when she came apart with a strangled cry, sleek body convulsing under him and around his fingers.

  Control gone, burning with wild desire, he nudged between her thighs and slid inside her in one long, agonizing thrust, shuddering at the slick, tight grip of her body. With a feral sound, he met her dark, dazed eyes and lifted her legs until she wrapped them around his waist. He watched her eyes lose focus and listened to her keen as she convulsed around him again.

  Plunging his hands in her hair, he devoured her mouth with savage need while his body thrust and ground into hers with an animalistic lack of finesse that would embarrass him later. But at the moment, her wild, uninhibited responses and the feel of her surrounding him in unbearable, rippling pleasure made any control impossible. The world misted and disappeared in fire as he drove himself deeper, needing to reach the core of her, to touch the deepest parts of her and make them his. His climax crashed over him like a wave, battering him over and over, and then leaving him on her shore in a tattered, limp, and dazed heap.

  Ryelle felt tears leak from under her lashes, but couldn’t do a thing about them except hold Declan tighter. She wasn’t sure where she got the strength—her entire body felt liquefied, weak and trembling in the aftermath of their passion. But she couldn’t bear to unlock her arms from around his neck, to release him and let go of this moment. Aside from being the best damned sex she’d ever experienced or even imagined, feeling him surround her and fill her so fully was an intimacy that overflowed her heart with sweet longing. Even if he didn’t love her, she had this moment to pretend, to feel the proprietary demand of his body and convince herself that he was hers.

  "Ryelle," he groaned into her hair through harsh breath, "I’m sorry." With a grunt of effort, he pushed himself off, rolling to his side.

  She loosened her hold, but rolled with him, aching at the loss of him deep inside her. "For what?" she whispered, studying his face.

  He was flushed, eyes heavy-lidded and filled with deepest indigo, hair tossed wildly about his head. Gorgeous, she sighed to herself in delight and despair. His brows pulled together as his fingers came up to touch the wetness at the corners of her eyes. "I hurt you, didn’t I?"

  "No," she answered with a wobbly smile. "I’ve never felt less pain in my life."

  "Than why are you crying?" he muttered, crease still pulling his brows as he pressed his lips to her tears.

  She closed her eyes, pulling him closer. "Sheer amazement. I may even start to worship you."

  She surprised a chuckle out of him. When he leaned back, his frown was gone. "Amazement? What the hell for? I jumped you like an animal. I think I broke speed records." As he spoke, he rolled onto his back, pulling her with him.

  "And thank God for that. I don’t think I could’ve taken much more. I’ve never had multiple orgasms in my life. I think I nearly went into cardiac arrest. And I’m pretty sure my bones turned to jelly." She raised an arm and flopped it back down on his chest to demonstrate.

  He grinned, a lazy, masculine grin that made her stomach flip over and did silly things to her heart. Lord, she was pathetic and hopeless.

  "Happy to be of service," he growled with a nip to her chin as he pulled her all the way on top of him. "Hate to break it to you, though—we aren’t done yet." His hands, calluses rough against her smooth skin, glided from her shoulders down the curve of her back to cup her bottom in his large, warm grip, sending shivers of delight over her flesh. She squirmed while his fingers explored those mounds and his lips and tongue found the most sensitive spots on her throat.

  "Again?" she whispered with a faint laugh, even while she cupped the back of his head, arching to give both his mouth and his stimulating hands greater access. His hard muscles felt incredibly good against her, the crisp hairs on his chest tantalizing her nipples as she squirmed, sending amazing waves of heat coursing through her yet again. She heard a low humming sound and realized it was coming from her own throat.

  "Haven’t had enough of you," Declan rumbled against her throat. "Haven’t touched you enough, haven’t put my mouth on you everywhere. It’d also be nice if I could do this without humping you like a brain-dead dog." He dropped his head back to the floor and smiled up at her, eyes glittering with blue heat and humor. "If you want slow and easy, you’ll have to rein in that talent of yours."

  "What does it feel like?" she asked, watching the indigo spikes in his eyes darken as she spread her fingers over the hard-muscled heat of his skin.

  "Like you’re all over me, everywhere inside me. Like you’ve got a thousand hands and a hundred mouths, and they’re all doing their level best to drive me right out of my mind," he growled, his hands sliding down her thighs and urging them apart.

  The tangle of lust that tightened her insides shocked her, considering how many times she’d already climaxed and how weak she felt as a result. But she could feel him hardening again beneath her, could see the flush of desire brush his cheekbones with color, and his words reached deep inside her and touched off fire. With a swift, lithe movement she wouldn’t have believed possible thirty seconds ago, she straddled his hips and sat up, sliding her hands over his chest to tease his flat nipples.

  "Like this?" she purred with a seductive smile. "Or like this?" She bent to lave her tongue over one tightening nub then applied her teeth with gentle savagery as her hips did a slow, grinding roll over his erection.

  He groaned, burying his hands in her hair and dragging her face to his. "Slow and easy next time," he rasped before claiming her mouth with hot, fierce demand.

  They didn’t make it to the bed for quite a while. By then, Ryelle had developed a deep, misty affection for the floor. On the other hand, the softness of the bed has its advantages, she thought as she snuggled against Declan’s side, images of their playful rolling and their not so playful writhing still burning through her brain. She was sore from head to toe and couldn’t have been happier.

  The sex had been beyond her wildest imaginings of how it would be to love Declan with everything she had, hot enough to stun her just in memory. But this touched her as deeply, holding him and sharing warm intimacy. She had dreamed of it, being able to feel the imprint of his touch inside and out, to taste him on her tongue and to have his warm, smoky scent fill her, to listen to his heart beating in her ear. She sighed, long and deep, and thought she’d never been happier or more content in her life.

  If only it would stay this way.

  When they were young, she’d opened her soul to him, laid bare the deepest parts of her mind, heart, and spirit. It was disconcerting to realize he was still there, could still occupy the secret parts of her through all these years even after his supposed defection. Seeing him hadn’t changed that but only deepened the sensation, adding new layers of vulnerability and need to the tenderest p
ortions of her being.

  He’d said he’d loved her when they were young, but perhaps he really had gotten over her, moved on, pried her out of the secret parts of himself. He was different, harder, more confident and commanding, less open and less willing to smile. But his words still resonated deep within her, the turn of his head and gleam in his eyes as familiar to her as her own breath, confirming and solidifying his place in her heart and soul. And now he was imprinted as deeply on her body as well. Leaving him would tear her apart.

  Ryelle tightened her hold on him and banished thoughts of the future. She had him now and meant to cherish every moment.

  "You okay?" he asked in a groggy voice.

  "Never better," she sighed, rubbing her cheek against his warm skin with a hum of contented pleasure. "You?"

  "Took the words outta my mouth," he mumbled and she glanced up to see his eyes closed, lips curved in a smug smile. "Sleep?"

  "Can you? Or do I need to put a leash on my ability?"

  "Mmm. Give me good dreams. Might wake you up in a couple…" He yawned hugely. "Hours."

  She grinned, watching him with little sparkles of delight in her blood as he fell asleep with the smile still on his lips. Stretching out her talent, she checked on the progress of the GenTec, who were still a safe enough distance away. She snuggled back down against Declan’s side, running a hand over his hard chest with a smug smile of her own, before she let herself relax toward sleep. She set a ribbon of her ability to undulate between the GenTecs and the station as an early warning system, and then allowed the rest of it to settle comfortably around them. She noticed that when she wasn’t thinking about it, she wrapped her talent around Declan just as she did her arms and legs. Holding him to her with everything she had.

  Her sleep was dreamless for a while, deep and sweet and more restful than she’d experienced in years. When she did dream, it was of Declan’s mouth at her throat, his hands tantalizing her skin, teasing her breasts until she moaned, slipping between her thighs. Her climax brought with it the realization that she wasn’t dreaming, that the hard-muscled body pressed against her back wasn’t just another frustrating fantasy.

  She moaned his name in gratitude and delight, turning her head to kiss him and slipping fingers through his hair to hold him there. Her fierce need to get as close to him as possible went far beyond physical and her deep satisfaction in his heavy slide into her body went beyond the shimmering coils of pleasure that shivered and shook her over and over again.

  When she fell asleep once more, he was still buried deep within her, her body limp with throbbing satiation, the rest of her filled with ecstatic peace.

  Chapter 18

  A tingling warning on her talent brought Ryelle slowly to wakefulness. She frowned without opening her eyes. She really didn’t want to be awake—she’d been having the most wonderful dream. Then something heavy and warm shifted next to her and she realized it wasn’t a dream after all. Her frown smoothed into a beatific smile as she peeked through her lashes to find Declan watching her with those fantastic blue eyes of his.

  "Oh, wow," she mumbled, rather less coherently than she would have liked.

  He grinned. "Good morning," he rumbled in a low, sexy, sleep-graveled voice as his fingers made delicious little forays over her skin.

  "Good is too mild a word," she sighed, lifting a hand to run wondering fingers over the hard planes of his face. "I—" She cut off the words I love you before they could spill out and chase him away again. With another sigh, she continued, "I’m sorry to say it’s about to get a lot less good. Up and at ‘em, Master Chief. Your station is going to get company soon."

  His easy, warm grin faded into wary hardness, his hand going still and tense on her abdomen. "The GenTec?"

  "Closing in. I’d prefer a shower and clothes before I deal with them." She paused a second then gave him a lascivious wink and a smirk. "Don’t mind if you go naked, though."

  He ignored her, vaulting out of bed with an amazing amount of energy and masculine grace. Ryelle tried to sit up and froze with a groan, her entire body muttering complaints.

  "Ryelle? What’s the matter?" He leaned back over the bed, brow creased as he studied her.

  She let out a pained laugh and rolled carefully to the side of the bed. "I’m sore in places I didn’t even know I had," she said with a grimace, while she slowly pushed to a sitting position.

  "Ah, damn. Honey, I’m sorry." He reached to help her, chagrin and a species of furtive humor written on his face.

  "Don’t look so proud of yourself, McCrae," she retorted.

  He grinned as he lifted her to her feet. "How bad is it?"

  "I’m going to walk in a way that will embarrass the hell out of me," she said with a severe lift of one eyebrow. Then she let her expression slide into a sly smirk. "On the other hand, if you want to join me in the shower, I won’t stop you."

  It was a long shower. The end result was that she could barely walk afterward but had the petty revenge of watching him sneak back to his quarters in a towel for clothes to replace the ones she’d shredded. He walked with her to main operations, a hand under her elbow to steady her gait and a carefully blank look on his face. She tried to maintain a stern expression, but she was feeling too smug this morning herself and as her stride improved, so did her sense of humor. She was fighting giggles when they finally stepped into main operations, but humor faded quickly when she saw the anxiety on the upturned faces of the crew. For once, every single employee was giving the boss their undivided attention.

  "Morning, people," Declan said in a level tone. "Scans show incoming vessels?"

  Most of the faces relaxed immediately and turned to their displays. Boss is on it, she could almost read in their expressions and smiled at the confidence they showed in their employer.

  Pete joined them on the entrance deck, his face carefully bland. "A load of ‘em, MC. We were gettin’ kind of a bad feeling."

  "Our telenetic is on it, Pete," Declan said with a reassuring half-smile. "How far out are they?"

  "They’ve made good time," Ryelle answered before Pete could. "Should see them outside the ‘roids within the hour." They’d be in weapons range of the station by then.

  "Pete, notify the miners to pull back drillers, shut down operations, and get all personnel to our station." When Pete opened his mouth, Declan held up a hand. "I know they don’t take orders well. Just tell them the GenTec are on their way in. That ought to motivate ‘em."

  Pete’s jaw dropped and his eyes bulged for a moment, before he sputtered an incomprehensible response. Declan nodded as if he understood every word.

  "Cease all wormhole operations and send out a general quarters alert. Nobody in or out of the station and all personnel need to be in safe containment areas. Tell my mother that means her, too. Don’t mention the GenTec yet, though. I’ll do that before the shit hits the fan."

  Ryelle gave him a narrow-eyed look. "Excuse me, there’ll be no shit on my watch."

  Declan inclined his dark head with a lazy grin. "Your pardon, Telenetic. Retracting the shit comment. You wanna take ‘em on blind-folded or with one hand tied behind your back, Sunfire Angel?"

  "No tying me up, Declan," she purred, running her eyes down his long, delicious form. "I’ll get distracted."

  Pete coughed and she glanced over to see him looking away with a red face and crinkles of laughter around his eyes. He caught Ryelle’s grin out of the corner of his eye and wheezed "Off to work I go," before scampering down his ramp, muffled chuckles drifting back up from his work station.

  "He likes you," Declan murmured with a rueful half-smile.

  "And I like him right back. Jealous, darling?" she asked with a sparkling smile and a flutter of her lashes.

  He rolled his eyes, lips still curved. "Status, Telenetic Soliere."

  She made a face at him and sobered reluctantly, focusing on the task at hand. "All right, let’s get a count on these guys. They’ve got a whole fleet of screamers, plus three larger
ships about the size of cruisers. Screamers have a small crew, five max, but each cruiser has about…"

  She paused with a puzzled frown, head tipping to one side while she sampled the GenTec crews. Something was off. Something— "Oh my God," she gasped, staggering back a step from shock and from the attack. The attacks.

  "What? Ryelle, what is it?"

  "They’re not here for me. They don’t need to capture a telenetic for genetic material. They’ve figured out how to make their own."

  "What?"

  "Hang on," she said in a strained voice, concentrating on her opponents and thinking fast. There were three of them and while they were very strong, possibly stronger than level fours, they still weren’t a match for her if she decided to come down on them with everything she had. But should she? "Declan, they’re children," she whispered in an agony of indecision.

  He swore viciously, his hand closing around her arm in an urgent grip. "How many are there? Can you handle them?" he asked in a crisp, tense voice.

  "There are three. And yes, I can handle them. They are very strong, amazingly so. How did they do this? They aren’t…aren’t as mutated as the other GenTec. Declan, I don’t know what to do."

  "You protect this station," he said in a sharp tone, his hand tightening in fierce command.

  She threw him a disgusted glance. "No kidding. But I can’t kill children."

  "What are they doing right now?"

  "They’re fighting me. Trying to contain me. They’re taking turns. Practicing I think. Maybe that’s what the GenTec are after. Practice for their telenetics, a test to see what they can do against a Fleet telenetic."