“Whoa! Missed me, dear. You think without your crew and airship you can get anything done? You’ll either get killed by some roaming zomb or get lost before you get to where you want to be.” He pulled her head farther back, made her body curve into his until she had to go up on her toes. His right hand coasted down over her taut abdomen, through her pubic hair, ending up in a V on either side of her much-abused clit.
“I’m an air fleet captain. I don’t get lost!” She spat the words out in an attempt to ignore the way her clitoris swelled.
Traitorous thing. Damn, but she wanted his finger on her, in her. Whatever had changed within still held sway, not as bad as before but like some surface memory whenever she saw Sten, or yes—she sighed—smelled him, things happened inside her. His teeth clamped on her earlobe, and she hissed, stiffened, her mind wandering from where his hand rested to where his teeth bit and the delightful singe of pain. Then he released her ear, sucking on it now and then as he spoke. Listening to his words and not reveling in that suction on her ear took a lot of concentration.
“Tell you what. I’ll help you with this mission, see if anything can be done, for payment. You need me. Promise to do what I tell you, whatever that might be, as long as my orders don’t mess up your mission.”
His orders? What in all the heavens?
“Or I’ll take you back to base.”
The V of his fingers narrowed, pressing her flesh in tighter, and her clit poked out from its hood. Didn’t take much anymore. The thing seemed wired for stimulation.
Clearly her body was what he wanted to order about. He was right though—she did need him. Who else was there?
“I—” She cleared her throat, tried again. Tightness curled like a sensuous snake down there, until her entire lower body seethed with lust and not thrusting into his hand took up half her thinking power. “Um…stop doing that.”
“This?” The baritone rumble at her ear vibrated into her bones, her mind. When his hand massaged rhythmically on her mound, she gave in, melting back into him yet pushing at his palm, concentrating on the surge of pleasure. He stilled. “Was that what you wanted me to stop?”
Coherent thoughts tumbled back into her head. “You bastard,” she said thickly. “What do you mean by orders?”
“What do you think?”
“You seriously”—he shifted behind her and she had to catch her breath—“expect me to bargain with my body?” Ahh, but her body, crazy thing that it was right now, was already screaming yes. No matter how she tried to ignore it, the feel of his hot, hard body against hers had her so rapt, so quivering with excitement, she could barely remember her own name.
But…am I ready to give him this in exchange for my mission? If word got out, she’d be ruined, sent back to the ranks, if not cashiered from the air fleet. Completing the mission was paramount, but do it in a dishonorable way and the smear would never leave her record—or her soul. If her grandfather heard, he’d disown her. Eyes half focused, she stared out at the forest, at the muted gleam of light tinting the tree trunks with shades of gray.
“No more sex,” she said clipping the words like an ax chopping timber. “Nothing that will jeopardize my air fleet standing.”
“Hmm.” Amusement showed in the warmth of that sound. “Tell you what—no sex unless you beg me, but I get to kiss you three times every day, when I want to.”
Kissing? She shook her head what little she could with his hand around her neck. “Beg you? I don’t…” Except she already had. An aberration that would not happen again. This was better than she’d hoped, in a way. “Okay. Yes.” She closed her eyes in resignation. “I agree. Now let me go.”
“Swear on your honor as an air fleet officer.”
“Really!” She snorted derisively.
“Swear.” He wiggled her head side to side.
“Okay! I swear on my honor as a captain in the GAM Air Fleet! Happy?”
Though his hand slipped away from her neck, with the flat of his palm between her shoulder blades, he steered her toward a wide tree trunk, turned her so she stood with her back to the trunk. The lowest branches were many yards up in the forest canopy. The bark was rough but not unbearable on her skin.
Sten went to his knees before her. In the thickening gloom, she could make out his raised eyebrows and a glint from his gold wolf earring, but very little else.
“Hey, mister. I like you kneeling, but you forgot to untie me. It’s part of the deal.”
“And you agreed to obey me. I’m taking my first kiss.”
He couldn’t mean there? His mouth was only a foot from her mound. “Kissing, we agreed on. Kissing means lips.” She pressed back into the tree.
“And I intend to use mine. I didn’t say where I’d kiss you.”
“You’re breaking the agreement already!”
“I’m not,” he said mildly. “If I use only lips and tongue, maybe teeth, it’s a kiss. Do you want to call the deal off?”
Lips and tongue? Teeth? She fought back a whimper. Technically he was right. She scrambled through the rest of their agreement, praying he couldn’t twist the other words into something equally awful. Except she was wet, down there, already, and getting wetter by the second—anticipating his mouth on her, working his tongue—
“No. It’s not off,” she rasped out.
“Good.” Then, in a most agonizingly slow way, he moved in on her pussy and stopped with so little distance to go that she could feel the soft in and out of his warm breath on her clit. With hands on either side of her thighs, he kept her in place.
I can bear this. If he thought she’d beg him after this, he was so wrong. Yet like a magician conjuring something into being, she could feel her clit stir and expand beneath his breath. Feel her folds moisten and the deep internal fullness gather. For ages he simply knelt there looking at her, as if nothing in the world was more important.
“Women are beautiful down here.”
She said nothing, willing him to hurry up so it would be over.
“Though some are like you—and find frankenstructs unattractive.”
She didn’t find him unattractive. But admit to that? No way.
“How true. And you think this is going to—”
The tip of his tongue darted out and touched the top of her engorged nub. She jumped, gasped. Another dab, a tiny stroke. He teased it, pressed it side to side until it stood up firm and she had to dig her nails into the bark to hold back mews of pleasure. He paused again.
“Do I think this’ll teach you to like men like me?” He shrugged. “It sure seems to be steering you in the right direction.”
“How long?” Her words tumbled out, half-choked.
“Will I do this? Didn’t say, did we? All night?”
“You’re joking!” She could barely stand it now.
“Am I?” His whole mouth descended on her clit, and she couldn’t help writhing, lifting into his mouth, craving the wet strokes of his tongue as he swiped straight over the top, then to each side, alternating the pleasure in the smallest unexpected ways.
I’ve shut my eyes. The blackness made thoughts mash together in her head. Lust took over every part of her mind and body. She no longer clawed at bark—her hands grasped it to steady her body, to make the aim of his tongue surer. Her back hurt, but from leaning into the tree for leverage to press her groin ever harder into his hot, wet mouth.
Heat tunneled through her veins, and pressure built, all her thoughts concentrated on her clit and nowhere else.
The little sounds of lust she’d held trapped escaped her. Through panting mouth, she gasped and moaned and mewed. She didn’t care who or what he was, just that he kept on using his wicked, wicked tongue.
Torture. He fastened his lips and teeth onto the outside of her clit. With the smallest adjustment of his teeth, or a change in the angle of the swipe of tongue or in the depth of the suction, he brought her almost to orgasm…then stopped.
Gasping, mindless, she raised her head from the tree and
stared down. He began again. That a mouth could render her speechless seemed mad, but his did. Five, ten times, perhaps a hundred—she lost count, teetering at the brink. One tiny bit of pressure and she’d come. But then he’d cease and sit there looking up, waiting for her to descend from the heavens. And again, and again.
When her legs were shaking and threatened to give way, he rose to his feet. The rustle of leaves, the rasp and creak of leather and cloth told her he stood in front of her, looking. So she pried open her eyelids and looked back. Sweat ran down her body. Heat flushed her cheeks. Her breaths came so fast she might have walked from the molten heat of a blacksmith’s forge. Understanding surfaced. This time he’d truly stopped, and oh, she ached so much down there, trembled so much, that every few seconds cramps twisted through her groin.
But…no. Comprehension slithered in from wherever her true self had hidden away. She wasn’t begging.
“No?” Sten seemed to answer her unspoken reply. “Never mind, I have many more times to try. We should be moving on.”
Then he did untie her and handed her a water flask to drink from while he coiled the rope and heaved on the haversack he’d left a few yards away. With shaking hands, she washed her thighs with some water, embarrassed though the act made her. There wasn’t enough to clean herself entirely. Not if they were to have water left to drink. Silly in a way to be embarrassed. Only minutes ago he’d had his face buried in her pussy.
Without her asking, he took off his shirt and gave it to her. Luckily it was long enough to go to below her buttocks. Then, to her astonishment, he made her sit on the haversack so he could wrap her feet in cloth and tie it on—temporary shoes. Bliss. No more twigs poking into her soles.
“Good?” He arched an eyebrow at her while still holding her foot.
Saying thank you was on the tip of her tongue. Pure politeness and manners struggled to come out. She wriggled her toes, eyed him. The bastard who’d left her aching. “It’s good. Thank you.”
He let go of her foot and straightened. “I figure you should know, I had to shoot a burning fellow back at the gyro crash. Orange eyes, so an überzomb?”
“No. Raised man.” She looked around for his wolf, spotted it some yards away, waiting. Its upper lip curled. “What about it?”
“You worried he’ll eat you? Cadrach is picky. You be nice to me. He’ll be nice to you.” He helped her up. “We’d better move. See if we can find shelter.”
“You’re sure he’s not dangerous?”
But Sten ignored her and sauntered off. Keeping a wary eye on the big wolf, Kaysana jogged to catch up.
As they walked through the cooling forest, with the crickets awakening and an owl drifting overhead, she took the time to consider all that had happened. Without Sten, she’d be dead.
But she couldn’t figure him out. Half caring for her welfare—crashing the gyro, for heaven’s sake, in his rush to find her? She was used to being the one doing the caring, to looking out for the hundreds of people under her. And then doing what he’d done to her body, almost without asking. It had been so damn intimate and invasive.
They continued on, walking southward, wordless. What he’d done violated her every belief in herself in some indefinable way, and yet she’d allowed it, agreed to it, and in her heart craved more.
The remaining slickness on her inner thighs reminded her of how close she’d come to begging for relief from him. Next time she’d have a pin handy to jab into herself. Anything except letting him arouse her like he had.
Cadrach accompanied them, walking on a parallel path without being commanded to. Pets, to her mind, should be small and happy and their mouths should only open wide enough to nip fingers, not entire limbs. The brooding wolf sent glacier cold sliding through her veins.
“I shall call you Fluffy,” she muttered.
Chapter Six
Sten followed along behind Kaysana—the view was better.
Her curvaceous backside swayed before him beneath his own shirt. Damn, that was sexy, especially remembering how she’d moaned under his mouth. What a hard-on that had given him.
Kissing, hah, he’d not been sure she’d go with that logic.
A few hundred yards of walking and they emerged from under the tree line into the night sky. Only stars above. No burning airships despite the faint smell of smoke. He felt relief. So many odd things had happened.
“Don’t suppose you want to give me a weapon, Sten?”
“Nope.”
“We’ll be meeting zombies. I promise not to shoot you.”
“I’ll consider it.” She expected a weapon? Heaven and hell. He wasn’t that nuts. Maybe when indignation wasn’t coming off her in waves every time she looked at him.
She snorted, turned away. “Fool. Come on. Looks like a farmhouse up there.” She pointed. Up a slope, through a field of some tall crop, the silhouette of a building showed at the peak. Light flickered across the crop, washing the field in yellow and orange as if it were some strange golden sea.
“I’ll watch your tail. Just keep wriggling it like that.”
“I’ve been known to gouge out the eyes of men who ogle.”
He grinned, then followed her into the crop. The stalks rustled and scraped against them as they pushed through. Squeaks and chitters from foot level told of some small nocturnal critters. Kaysana didn’t balk. Tough woman. After all that had happened, here she was taking point, armed only with her gorgeous body.
He sighed. So many curves, so many angry words. He’d fix that somehow. Once he decided on something, it happened.
The smoke smell intensified.
By the time they’d slowly scouted their way up to the farmhouse, the flickering glow had turned into a fire. The house was fully alight. Flames poured out the windows, crawled in snakes of boiling yellow up the outer walls, ate into the timber, curled over the eaves and onto the roof. Beams crashed down inside. Puffs of hot air, smoke, and ashes billowed out and shrouded them.
Together they circled the building. Cadrach sat upwind of the smoke and waited. To Sten’s approval, Kaysana was clearly looking for survivors as much as he was.
A black limb flailed and twisted in the flames. She jerked to a halt, craning her neck to stare.
“Warped timber.” Least he hoped it was. Too far in to tell. He watched Kaysana lean with her head down and hands on thighs for a moment. Her mouth moved as if she said silent curses. Damn, underneath her toughened steel exterior was a heart—shriveled maybe, but it was there.
“Come on.” He coughed, then plucked at her sleeve. “The barn’s okay. Whoever was here has left…or they’re in there, dead. We’ll sleep in the barn.”
She gave him a suspicious look.
He laughed. “I said sleep, meant it. Though in the morning, you owe me another kiss.”
She sniffed and stalked toward the barn.
Why the hell am I after her? All on a whim? Sure, he didn’t do hate anymore…much, but wasn’t wanting to fuck her sweet ass going too far the other way? Or was he doing it just to mess with her mind? He shook his head. Both maybe, neither. He couldn’t figure his own head out, let alone hers. Was it just some delayed effect of Zombie F?
Her body begged him; then her mind did a backflip. What would it take to get her mind saying yes properly? He eyed her ass again and the seductive wiggle under the shirt.
The barn was a hundred yards away on the peak of the hill and on the right side of the wind, so the air was clear. In the distance, a glittering snake of tiny lights curved across the landscape. A road? Must be. From the looks of it, there were a few vehicles out there. People who were still people fleeing to the border of the zone. He and Kaysana were heading toward whatever those down there were running from.
The barn doors were padlocked, but the chain, when he bent down to look, was breakable.
“Stand back.” He wrapped his hands around the door handle and hauled it outward until the chain gave with a crack. A weld had opened up, like he thought it would. He push
ed the doors back, rubbed his hands on his pants to lessen the sting, then caught her eyeing him. “What?”
Her mouth worked, like she struggled to decide on the right reply. “Impressive. Don’t let it go to your head.” Then she went to waltz past him into the barn.
“Wait.” He stuck out his arm, unsheathed the shotgun. “Nice words’ll get you nowhere, lady.” After one last check of the slope and the horizon—no signs of orange, burning guys, just one morose-looking Cadrach—he entered the barn with the nose of his weapon leading the way, scanning left to right, his finger gentle on the trigger.
“It was locked, mister. Nothing will be in here.”
“Just being prudent. I don’t fancy being someone’s main course.” Any movement, any at all, might be a zomb. Dark corners…a coop full of startled, flapping chickens, and at the far wall, hay stacked in bales.
“Aha. A great many deadly chickens.” She squeezed past.
But she had waited for him to clear the barn.
“It’s polite to say thank you.” He spotted it. “Damn.”
“Yes. Damn. For once I agree.”
Kaysana circled the gleaming vehicle in the center of the barn, leaned in over the low door to check out the dashboard inside. Half-in, half-out of the cabin and the gold metal and white canvas roof meant she had to lean down low. The shirt rode up.
A steam cycle. Tapering three seater, two seats side by side at the back. Three-wheeler. Polished ebony timber, glass, and brass. Chromed, sweeping exhaust tails. Someone had loved this beauty. The front hood bulged out sexily—black shiny molded timber. The hood ornament was a golden dolphin sitting up on its tail, balancing a large ball on its nose.
But…he eyed Kaysana and the half-moons of her bottom showing below the edge of the shirt, then the cycle, and knew just what he was going to do come morning. God, if she didn’t come out of there quick, he might just break their agreement.
Chapter Seven
Sleeping wasn’t easy. Every time she roused and sat up to check the barn, Sten was already awake. The fourth time, he spoke.
Lust Plague (Steamwork Chronicles) Page 5
