Lust Plague (Steamwork Chronicles)

by Silverwood, Cari

  Trapped.

  “Now, my lovely woman, you’re really mine.”

  Paralyzed, panting in soft bursts, she looked out through the eyeholes as Sten bent to kiss her. She watched him approach, and those lips—full and manly, strong like the rest of him. A traitorous thought kindled. Just how I like it. Her lips parted, anticipating. She moaned at the first light press of his mouth.

  He kissed with little teasing movements. “Beautiful. I love you like this.”

  And oh how the wet, exploring lick of his tongue tip enticed her. When he slipped his arm around her, she opened her lips wider, let him use his mouth to push her back into the cradle of his arms. Her neck bowed. He grasped her hair along with the leash so she couldn’t move her head. His other hand went down to her backside and shoved the leather leaves of the skirt up between her legs.

  The kiss deepened, roughened, until she sagged in his arms, giving out small moans and cries. She clawed at him, her fingernails embedding in his back. At last he stopped and turned her around, then brushed her ear with his lips. Warmth feathered to her groin. The leather top squashed in on her hard nipples.

  The wolf still stood at the window. A tiny bird hovered at his shoulder. Where had she seen it before? The fog inside her head refused to let a coherent answer form.

  Emily’s?

  She went to point at the bird, but Sten reached from behind and captured her hand, then the other one, crossed them at her back. The hard leather of the leash wound round and round her wrists, making a firm, inescapable bond, that…she realized, connected her hands to the collar about her throat.

  “Go forward.” He propelled her to an upholstered bench positioned before the window. Cadrach stared through the glass at her as she was forced to her knees by Sten’s heavy hand on her shoulder.

  He was going to fuck her. The revelation pummeled logical thought into some lost realm. She wanted him so much the need thudded hard into her like a pounding hammer, hurting her, consuming her. If he stopped now, she would beg. Tears sprang into her eyes, though whether from lust or shame or plain frustration, she didn’t know, didn’t want to know.

  “Head down.”

  At the mere presence of his finger on her neck, she lowered her head obediently. Her forehead was cushioned on the seat. Weight balanced on knees, her ass still hurting, she poised there, waiting. The red velvet upholstery filled her vision. She heard the soft huff of her breath, the thump of her heartbeat, the hiss of cloth sliding down his legs and being kicked aside.

  Helpless. Mmm. Her muscles below contracted. She had to stop herself from wriggling.

  His body covered hers, heavy, pushing her hands into the middle of her back, pulling the collar onto the front of her neck so she had to arch. His forearms came down on either side on the seat; then he brought them in closer, hugging her shoulders, caging her tight, ever so tight. Yes.

  “Comfy?” He nipped her ear. The little dose of pain spiked to her nipples. Kaysana shuddered. “Now. I want the truth. I think, if I read you right, that you can’t hold back. You’re wide open, aren’t you, woman? What is going on in your head?” Another nip, then a lick. She held her breath.

  No. Won’t, can’t say.

  He shoved her knees apart, jolting her. Then one arm lifted from her side, and she felt him part the leather skirt…and the head of his cock slipped, pushed into her wet slit enough to make her moan. Nearly…there. She squirmed to try and make him penetrate her.

  “Too far gone to think?” He chuckled, hugged her again between his forearms, viselike. “I’m not moving till you answer. Do you like what I do to you?”

  Ack. Her thoughts flowed like a swamp in summer. She knew what she should answer. No. The truth was easier, though. Far easier, and saying it felt like the first drop of fresh rain on an upturned face. “Yes.” His vise grip on her tightened more until she could barely drag in air. Ohh. “I…do.”

  “Good. Second question, do you want me to fuck you?”

  She groaned. Her clit throbbed. Everywhere throbbed. How many times had she been almost brought to orgasm? Yet…would this be begging?

  Say yes, stupid. “Yes.” She shifted her legs, moved her bottom the tiny amount she could. “Please, fuck me.” And that was definitely begging. But she didn’t care anymore, not at all. She was so wet, so hot she felt a rivulet of moisture run down her inner thighs.

  Sten growled and pushed into her, slow and steady. Sensations muddied, and she couldn’t tell what was where. Only that he was taking her, filling her, and she could do nothing except bear it. A spasm of her muscles brought a hiss to her lips. He stopped, waited.

  “Take it, Kaysana,” he murmured. “I’m going all the way in. I’m going to screw you until there’s no way you can say you’re not mine.”

  His? Right then his words seemed so right. She groaned, pushed up her butt. His teeth latched on to her neck, and he bit his way up the side. Pleasure fired up, drowning the small pains. The wide head of his cock reached the top of her womb and seemed to keep going, stretching her an inch farther, a relentless advance. He moved one hand, tracing down her neck, across her upper arm where it was pulled back by the leather around her wrists, then onto her breast.

  “You have such soft skin.” His hand slipped beneath the leather of the top and cupped her breast. “This is mine too.”

  He nuzzled her neck, thrust in and out of her as he toyed with her nipple. Dazed, she concentrated on everywhere he touched her. Nipple, cunt, neck, ear, anus. How easily he played with her, sent her soaring into arousal. She whimpered, leaned into the cushion. The red material surged back and forth as her forehead slid.

  “That’s my girl. Say it, Kaysana. Say you’re mine.” The little in-and-out shunting movements intensified. He thrust in farther, harder. Her cunt grew wetter. Her little whimpers turned to cries. “Say it.”

  No.

  His thrusts became violent slams. Unable to stop, she bowed up more, at ass and neck, craving every inch of his cock. While he pinched her nipple hard and bit her neck, his other hand shifted down, probed for her clit, and gripped it unforgivingly.

  “Are you mine?”

  “Yes! Ah, ah. Ah!” Each thrust worked hot magic in her, each bite and pinch amplified by the brutal squeezing on her clit. Like a storm boiling down from the heavens, roaring across the land, obliterating reality, she came, spasming. The final whack of his groin against her and the ram of his cock up inside as far as it could reach, the spurt of his cum, threw her into another bout. Pleasure ravaged through her, and she heard herself scream and scream.

  And scream.

  “Ohgod, ohgod.” She gasped and slumped onto the seat.

  Chapter Nine

  When she looked up, with a droplet of sweat sitting at the tip of her nose, Cadrach was there at the window. Emily’s multicolored bird fluttered about—repeatedly hopping from shoulder to ground, then launching into the air.

  “That’s Emily’s little bird. One of my crew.”

  “Oh?” Sten pulled himself from inside her.

  His movement made her jump and her thoughts curl inward for a second, feeling, remembering. When has sex ever been this good? Never. But… “I can think again.”

  “Sounds bad. Am I going to regret that?” To her surprise, she heard lightness in his words. Sten untied her hands, massaged her wrists.

  The man was joking, after all he’d done to her? Yet…that pleased her, when she should be cursing him. Kaysana shook her head and set her palms on the seat. Her body, even her damn legs trembled from exhaustion—both physical and mental. The bedrock of her world lay crumbled about her.

  “I should be hating you. Why don’t I?” she said miserably, not sure if she wanted him to hear how vulnerable she was. To submit physically was excusable, unavoidable maybe. But the way her feelings for him had wrenched from one direction to the other in the space of two days…devastating. “This is madness. I should be thinking of nothing but my mission.” Except now he was like a gargantuan presence on he
r horizon, bending all her thoughts.

  He kissed the back of her neck, gently combed out her hair, and tied it back into a ponytail with some soft cord. “You’re not the only one thinking like this. We need to get things straight between us. Stay there.”

  She did. Head on her forearms with them flat on the seat, her bottom still out on display, she waited for his return. The leash dangled across her back and onto the upholstery. With her eyes closed, the world was a dark, swirling mass behind her eyelids. Whether it was the euphoric haze of aftersex or this odd effect Sten had on her, she didn’t know…but she stayed there.

  “Good.” Something heavy but soft landed on the floor. Then she heard him move behind her and felt a damp cloth cleaning her. How gentle he was compared with before.

  Her thoughts were steadying, rearranging. Maybe she’d feel fine and normal again soon.

  “Come here.” His low male rumble made her shudder as if he’d delivered a brutal kiss. No, I’m not normal, not at all.

  With his help, she lay back with him on a pile of fur coats. He’d pulled clothes on—a shirt and pants. He arranged her skirt to cover her backside, and snuggled in, spooning with her, his soft mouth at her ear, one well-muscled arm pillowing her neck, the other draped below her breasts. The soft mask sat askew on her face, and her view of the room was cut off by the lopsided positioning of the eyeholes.

  “Now, dear. Let’s talk. You say you should hate me? Well, I’m not normally partial to ornery women myself. Only I want you, your body, I want everything about you to be mine.” He stated this like it was a summary of the weather, in a slow, measured way. “If this is the plague, then so be it. But I remember how I felt before the thing hit us. I lusted after you then too. Only difference now is I’m doing it.” He nibbled her earlobe, pulled her closer. “This is right.”

  Silence stretched, ached with possibility. Her turn. How to say this? It made her feel so weak. Yet—

  She sighed. “The same, in a way. Yet logically it’s wrong.” The arm under her…so close, smelling so nice. She licked out with her tongue and tasted him, took a piece of his skin in her front teeth and bit, released him, licked again. After he’d spanked her, tied her up, fucked her, she wanted to do it again. This time she groaned at the stupidity of it all and rocked her forehead against him. “I have to get my mission done. How?”

  Sten kissed her neck, chuckled. “Mmm. Said I’d help you. I will. But I’m going to enjoy you at the same time. Doesn’t change things that much.”

  Enjoy me? Thank God frankenstructs were sterile and disease free. “Once everything is over, we part ways?”

  “We’ll see when this is over.”

  “No.” Like an old shield she’d set aside, logic returned. “When this is over. We part.” But merely saying, she knew in her bones, was so different from doing. She wriggled against him. “I’m able to think again, properly. I don’t understand why.”

  “No?” She felt him smile into her hair. “It’s because you’ve had an orgasm, I reckon. Given time, my effect on you’ll come back if I’m right.”

  “Oh nooo,” she said under her breath. Damn. He was right, though. She could feel the way he bothered her building already. How long before it was unbearable again? “Maybe…maybe we should separate now?”

  “Uh-uh.” A finger hooked into the collar, tugged. “We’re together in this. I’ll come with you to this Perihelion place. You’d be darn crazy to go alone.” He growled. “Don’t even think about getting away. You gave your word.”

  She rubbed her face with her hand, adjusted the mask. “But why? Don’t you hate being manipulated like this? Even if you’re feeling these strange impulses, don’t you somehow know you should run the other way?”

  “No. This could be dangerous, and I want to help you. Why? Do you want to run?”

  Damn him. How dare he ask such an excruciating question? But she didn’t have to answer. She sniffed, tried to pull his finger away from the collar, but he wouldn’t budge and instead gave it a jerk.

  “Answer me, Kaysana. Do you want to run from me?”

  “An entire city is fleeing in the other direction! There’s something out there that turns people into zombies! And you’re my only…friend.” She stared at the blond hairs on his forearm, frowned. “You’re damned big, and strong.” At that she was sure his dick pulsed against her bottom. Hmph. “I’d be stupid to want to get rid of you.”

  He grunted. “Good. Glad to see you want to fuck me too. Now let’s go find out about this Emily.” He unclipped the leash, hauled himself to his feet, and dusted himself off.

  She glared up at him. “I do not want…to fuck you.”

  “No?” He angled up an eyebrow. “I doubt you’ll win that argument. Come.”

  By the time she’d scrambled to her feet, he was already out the door, having rescued his shotgun and sword from a hat stand. He obviously expected her to fall in on his tail. Sighing, she followed.

  Past Sten’s shoulder, his wolf lay midstreet, watching. The little bird sat fluffed up on top of one paw.

  “I’m sure that’s Emily’s.” Slowly she approached Cadrach. “Here, boy. Let me look.”

  When he lifted his lip in a snarl, she froze with her hand out.

  “Cadrach, at ease!” Sten stepped past her, brushed her hand aside, and coaxed the bird. “Here, little one.” Cheeping, the canary stepped daintily onto his finger.

  “May I?” With both hands, she cupped the trembling bird. “Aww. It’s scared.”

  “Crazy bird. Seems to like Cadrach.”

  Lips pursed, she made kissing sounds and stroked its feathers. Slowly the bird calmed. A red streak remained on the pad of her finger. “Blood.” She blinked. What had happened to Emily?

  “Not good, then. And neither’s he.”

  “What?” She heard the sound of the shotgun being unslipped from the holster on Sten’s back.

  A hundred yards away, a zombie staggered toward them. Beyond, above the roof of a whitewashed building, red smoke trickled into the sky. The zing of fear and alertness sent goose bumps racing along her arms. The bird pecked at her palm. She put her thumb on its head, patting to reassure it.

  Tattered cloths hung from the zombie’s arms and body. The gargling sound of its breathing broke the silence of the deserted street.

  “One isn’t a problem. But let’s get to the steam cycle. I want to find Emily if I can.” She blinked at Sten, placed the bird on her shoulder. “Not leaving her if I can help it. Understand?”

  “Sure. Up you come.” With a hand in her armpit, he helped her to her feet. To her relief, his touch did no more than any man’s might have. “Any ideas on how to do that?”

  She joined him in jogging to the steam cycle. Already waiting at the back door, the wolf looked up at her, tongue dangling across those large white teeth. “Um. Follow the red smoke? That’s a rescue marker.” Where to sit? Sitting in the backseat with the snarly damn wolf was just not happening again.

  “Aah, I see it. You're showing your smart side today.” He wrenched open the driver’s door, slung the haversack over the headrest and onto the floor at the back. “Get in. Zomb at forty paces and closing, speeding up with the lurches too.”

  “Shoot him?” When she looked pointedly at his shotgun, he shrugged and tapped the ammo on his belt.

  “No. I kill when I have to.”

  Why did I have to get lumped with a squeamish merc?

  Then the hard filter of years of training dropped away. The zombie was once a father, a son. She understood and sympathized with Sten. God, I can't function like this, can I? Feeling all the time? How does Sten?

  The wolf looked at her, then the door. She opened it. He bounced in, straight onto the shiny, buttoned-down leather, circled once, and sat with tail wrapped about his paws. The canary launched itself from her shoulder to land on the opposite armrest. Not much room. She shuddered.

  “Say, could I drive?” Then you can sit in the back with your fluffy dog.

  H
e paused, halfway into the front position. “No. Get…” He glanced at her face, then the zombie, and grabbed her hand. “I’ll drive. You navigate.” He pulled her over, slipped into the seat, then dragged her in and onto his lap.

  The steam cycle grumbled slowly down the street, weaving in a wide arc around the zombie, who tangled his feet and fell.

  A dead donkey lay on its side with a small cart still strapped to it by a harness. They swerved left at the end of the street and into a narrower one. A swarm of zombies hobbled toward them—footpath to footpath, an almost unbroken line.

  “Hang on!” Sten accelerated, the front wheel lifted, then thumped down, stirring up swirling dust. Engine screaming, they headed for the far right of the zombie pack. With Sten’s arms either side, Kaysana could only grip a fistful of the trouser fabric over his thighs and do exactly what he’d said—hang on tight.

  A gun would be nice. Shooting something would be even better.

  Arms and black fingers stretched toward them. Heads turned. The growling and moans penetrated the cycle’s glass and metal. Dead eyes swiveled. Nothing seemed to register to the zombies except them—breathing, living bodies. The gap ahead narrowed between the footpath and a building wall. With a teeth-cracking thud, the cycle mounted the footpath. A zombie appeared, clawed at the glass, went under the wheel, shrieking.

  Oh hell!

  The cycle bumped, slewed, and tilted, then rumbled over the top. Blackened blood splatted the windshield, lower left. They zoomed through the thinning crowd of undead. The street ahead was bare. The cries dissipated. The blood dribbled down, tendrils spreading sideways with the buffeting of air like a spiderweb spun of darkness.

  “Gods and angels above,” Kaysana gasped. She twisted and stared past the wolf. The zombies turned and stumbled to follow. “They’re coming. This has to be quick.”

  “Yes.”

  Shutting her eyes might scare away the gruesome visions of rotting, chewing zombie mouths…of mangled limbs and gore and dripping eye sockets, of skulls with monstrous holes and hair plastered down with seeping brains. Ugh. No, not helping. She opened her eyes.