Freedom (Delroi Prophecy)

by Hunt, Loribelle

  She shook her head, trying to banish her awe, gave him a slight smile and went on her way. She was disappointed when he didn’t follow but shrugged it off. Why had she thought he would? She’d apparently lost her marbles in that prison. She took a long hot shower. When she got out, she pulled on the clean sweats someone had left for her, then she searched for scissors. What several months ago had been a cute pixie cut was now a shaggy mop. It had to go. Looking into the mirror she set to work. When she was satisfied, she cleaned up the mess and went back into the bedroom. Suddenly weary, she collapsed on the comfortable looking bed. And dreamt of a silent sexy warrior, who had no business invading her subconscious, and the decadent, wicked things he could do to her.

  Chapter Two

  She woke with a jerk, heart racing as it had every day for six months. Gradually the escape came back to her and sank in. She was free. She squeezed her eyes shut and took several deep breaths. When she opened them again, she looked around. She’d left the desk lamp on. She didn’t think she’d ever be able to sleep in full dark again. There was a small round window, but of course she was in space. It was no help to judge the time. She had no idea how long she’d slept, but she knew she was up for awhile this time and she was hungry.

  The corridor was dim when she stepped out. Night setting she guessed. Had she slept a whole day? The ship was quiet and felt empty. She went to the common room and found sandwiches and colas in a glass fronted upright cooler. Then she went to the seating area and found a deep couch to lounge in.

  “You’re awake,” a deep voice all but growled.

  She jumped. “Shit.” Roarr was almost hidden in a chair in the darker corner of the area. “You scared me out of my skin.”

  He at least had the grace to look contrite. “I apologize for startling you. How do you feel?”

  She took a bite of ham and cheese, and snuck a look at him. “Better.”

  But she was a long way from one hundred percent. Which was a damned shame. He was giving her a look full of invitation and she wished she was up for it. But hell, maybe he looked at all women like that. Her abilities were still AWOL so she was flying blind. He gave her a smile that tempted her to sin.

  “How long was I out?” she asked, desperate to get her mind on another subject. She’d just escaped captivity and certain death. Now was probably not the best time to get hot and bothered with an alien. Even if he was sexy as hell. Shit. She was in trouble here.

  “Between the med bay and now? Twenty four hours.”

  Fuck. “The others?”

  “They were up for a little while. They went back to bed a couple hours ago.” He paused. “Which is what you need to do when you finish that.”

  She was tempted to ask if that was an invitation. She flushed hot, grateful he couldn’t see her in the dark. In her dreams he’d kissed her, licked her, made her come over and over.

  “You have to stop watching me like that, angel.”

  She caught her breath at the hungry look that came over his face and ignored the way the endearment made her heart race. “Like what?”

  He stood and approached, slowly sinking down next to her on the couch. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “Like you want to throw caution to the wind.”

  She didn’t wonder at his knowing the Earth expression. “Maybe I do,” she responded softly.

  He sat back, giving her space she wasn’t sure she wanted, and smirked. He nodded to the sandwich clutched in her hand. “Finish that so I can put you back to bed.”

  “I’m not tired,” she said, but took a bite.

  “Did I say anything about sleeping?” he asked, his smooth deep voice seduction all on its own.

  Damn, she hoped he wasn’t teasing. Hot sweaty sex sounded divine. Freeing and life affirming all at once. She whispered a prayer to the goddess, hoping she answered in space.

  “I’m definitely not tired,” she murmured holding his gaze, watching as the green darkened and the heat intensified.

  She finished eating in silence, gulped down the cola, and let him tug her to her feet. Back in her room, he didn’t give her a chance to change her mind. When the door slid shut behind them, he cupped the back of her head with one hand and tilted her face for his kiss. The move was so sudden she gasped and his tongue thrust in. It was wild and primal. Exhilarating. He claimed her, took her over, and when she was clinging to him, silently begging for more, he gentled it.

  His free hand slid up under her shirt to the middle of her back and pressed her forward so the hard ridge of his cock pressed against her stomach. She shivered, anticipation making her hotter, needier. It had been so long, long before her capture, since she’d had sex. What a way to come back. She should have been nervous. She knew so little about him, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want to fight the attraction, the desire that flared up when he touched her. And he wanted her too. There was no denying the evidence of that. Indulging their mutual longing made her feel daring and she hadn’t felt that way in too long. It felt forbidden, maybe a little dangerous. Risky and more than a little tempting. When was the last time she’d given into her bad girl streak? Too long. It was too chancy in her world. But she wasn’t there anymore, was she?

  Suddenly she laughed and he broke the kiss, leaned back, and gave her a look that was one part confused one part…hurt? No way. She had to be reading that wrong.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered, thrusting her fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and rolling her pelvis against his. His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched. He put his hands on her hips and took a step back, then looked her up and down.

  “I’m not sure you’re ready for this,” he almost growled.

  When she moved forward to rub against him again, he didn’t push her away though. “I was a prisoner for six months and suddenly I’m free. It’s a little surreal, but I know what I’m doing, Roarr.”

  “You better,” he said, and this time it was definitely a growl.

  It made her shiver. She wanted to strip him and explore every inch of his hard enticing body. The hell with restraint. It wasn’t her style. Once she made up her mind about something, she went for it. She grabbed the edge of his shirt and tugged it up, standing on her toes to pull it over his head. Bare skin. He was smooth and hard. The tattoos on his face stretched down the right side of his torso and disappeared below the waistline of his pants. She traced them. Some of the designs and flourishes were oddly feminine.

  “What are these for?”

  “Each one represents training I’ve had. The ones on my face and neck are my clan, rank, and family symbols.”

  “Hmm.”

  She lifted her fingers to trace them. Fascinating. But not nearly as tempting as the hard, muscled chest she’d revealed. He held perfectly still, allowing the exploration without comment or encouragement. Slowly, she drew her hands down his face, his neck, over his broad shoulders then those oh so luscious pecs. His muscles bunched under her touch and she hid a grin. He wasn’t nearly as unaffected as he tried to pretend to be. She continue her slow exploration south, over hard ridged abs, to the snap on his pants. As she fumbled with it, she leaned forward to taste his skin, stroking her tongue over one pebbled nipple then the other. Finally the button opened, she pulled the zipper down, and slid her hand in the opening she’d made, wrapping her fingers around his cock.

  He was hard and throbbing. She stroked her thumb up the pulsing vein on the underside to the head, swiped at the pearl of pre-cum there with her thumb and lifted it to her mouth as she met his gaze. His eyes widened, glowed as if fevered, and she was so feeling that. She couldn’t remember ever being this needy, this desperate. She was afraid if she didn’t get him inside her soon she’d combust. Worse, she might when he was inside her. She almost pulled away, but he held her hips.

  “Don’t tell me you’re backing out now?” he whispered.

  Had he sensed her moment of misgiving? Whatever. It was gone. She yanked her shirt over her head, and then shimmied out of her pan
ts and underwear, before reaching for his cock again. He shoved his pants down and lifted her, turning so her back was to the wall. Then his hand was between her legs, spreading the lips of her sex, fingers pushing inside to test her readiness. She would have told him that was unnecessary if she’d had the power of speech.

  A warrior born to any other clan on Delroi wouldn’t allow her the aggression she’d shown, but as he’d always known, he was different. If it wasn’t their first time together, he might have let her continue, seen how far she’d go. Seen how brazen desire would make her. But it turned out he wasn’t that different after all. He had to dominate her. He had to claim her the way only a mate could claim his woman. It was terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. He’d never wanted a der’lan, but now that he’d met her he couldn’t imagine living without her. That didn’t scare him. Her current condition did.

  She was fragile, too thin and malnourished and probably weeks away from full recovery. For now, he ignored the bruises. They threatened to incite a fury that didn’t belong in the room right now. Yet, he couldn’t temper his instincts. He couldn’t bank the heat raging between them.

  “Damn, Roarr, what are you waiting for?” she whined.

  He ground his teeth together. She wasn’t helping that control at all, rolling her pelvis, trying to impale herself on his cock. He slid his arms under her thighs, moving her higher and holding her legs apart. Controlling her movements so she couldn’t ambush him with that sensual little slide again.

  “Now,” she ordered.

  That just wouldn’t do. He’d allow aggression. Wanted to hear her pleas. But demands? Not in this. He thrust into her hard and froze when he was buried balls deep in her tight cunt. She gasped. Her eyes widened with surprise and a hint of trepidation. She wiggled as she adjusted to his width and girth, and finally settled with a long yearning sigh.

  “Ready?” he asked. He was hanging on by a thread, chanting a constant reminder to himself to be careful with her.

  “Yes,” she hissed.

  He didn’t give her any warning. He had no restraint left, and knowing he wasn’t going to last more than a few thrusts, he moved one arm under her ass to hold her place and his free hand to her clit. The harder he thrust, the hotter she got. Her mind was wide open and though he hadn’t bound her to him yet, the psychic bond of der’lans was already forming. He felt her desires. Saw what turned her on. Knew with just the right touch she’d be coming with him. He flicked his thumb over her clit, then pressed down on it, rubbing in circles while he fucked her. Soaking in her soft cries until they finally ended on a long scream as she came.

  Chapter Three

  The first thing she noticed when she woke was being warm. She’d kept the light blanket close during the night, but she didn’t need it with Roarr wrapped around her. Still feeling loose limbed and satiated, she turned around to face him. She wondered if the inhibitor drug had finally worn off. She followed her instinct to let her senses expand, to take in her surroundings and his mood. Her powers were back, and she actually regretted that.

  She lifted her face to look into his eyes. They were hot and possessive. She couldn’t read his thoughts. He had natural shields that were damned good. But for some reason—especially when she was touching him—though it wasn’t a major part of her talent, she could feel his emotions, sense his intentions, as if they were her own. Like he was sharing them somehow. He meant to claim her. Meant to keep her with him. What was she? A damned war prize?

  Her first instinct was to flee. She finally had her freedom back. She wasn’t giving it up. But she was sick of running. She was a mature independent woman, who’d just had the best sex of her life. Did she have to give that up so soon? Not if she could help it. She’d explain things. Surely he’d understand. He wasn’t the first man in her life and wouldn’t be the last. If she felt a twinge of regret over that, oh well. Life was a bitch.

  “What?” he asked, a slightly suspicious, slightly resigned look on his face.

  “You know this is just fun. This isn’t serious.”

  His expression closed down and he no longer projected his emotions. “Is that right?”

  “Yes,” she said. Firm and resolute. “I just got my freedom back. The last thing I need to do right now is get involved.”

  “You’re already involved, der’lan.”

  Well, this was going well. She sighed. “I think you’re looking for something I can’t give you, Roarr.”

  They were interrupted by chimes. She frowned. “What’s that?”

  “My communicator,” he grumbled, rolling out of bed.

  He walked naked to where he’d left his clothes piled near the wall and she couldn’t help but stare. The man had a very fine ass. He grinned over his shoulder at her and picked up his pants, dragged them on. Then he pulled the small device from his pocket and opened it. She guessed it was like a cell phone and had a display screen. He grunted, but didn’t tell her what it said. Instead he flipped it closed and returned it to his pocket, then sat in the desk chair and pulled on his boots. Next came his shirt. She was disappointed they wouldn’t be continuing their tryst, but maybe that was for the best. He stood up and gave her a grin that was pure sin.

  “Don’t worry, baby. We’re a long way from over.”

  When he pulled her to her feet and kissed the hell out of her, she melted, almost wishing things could be different. It was bad enough she’d left Earth and the mission her father had left in her hands. She refused to add Roarr to her growing list of regrets.

  He pulled away and tapped her ass.

  “Get dressed. I’ll show you the rest of the ship while I check on my men and then we’ll find something to eat.”

  The offer was very tempting, but she wasn’t sure if she should take it. He was back in control and that possessive streak was leaking through his shields again. His expression changed, sobered.

  “No expectations, angel. Just a tour and some food,” he said gently, as if he knew what she was thinking, understood her dilemma. She checked her shields, assured herself he couldn’t read her, and reminding herself it would be a colossal mistake to fall for him, decided to take what she could.

  Sex he left unsaid, but she saw the promise in his eyes. What could it hurt? After they reached Delroi she’d probably never see him again. She nodded and reached for her clothes. When she was dressed, he produced a pair of flip flops from a closet so well concealed she’d totally missed it. They even fit.

  “Where did the clothes and shoes come from?” she asked.

  She couldn’t imagine a Delroi woman wearing sweats. She’d only seen a handful of their females since the invasion, but even the healer she’d see when they arrived had worn the soft almost sheer clothing that managed to be both elegant and sexy. Still, if they did wear the comfy, frumpy clothes, she hadn’t seen anyone near her size in the rescue party other than Janice, and she was a couple inches taller than Kareena. He led her out into the corridor.

  “One of our other passengers helped with some fast shopping. That’s it I’m afraid. We didn’t want to linger in Earth space with fugitives aboard.”

  Instead of threatening, his statement was gloating. He liked getting one over Tel. Or maybe all the people on her planet?

  “Is that contempt for Tel or all of us?”

  “Just the bad guys, Kareena.” He slung an arm around her shoulder as he guided her down a new hall. It was so much easier to read him when he was touching her. His tone was light and amused, but he was dead serious.

  There was a brief pause and then he asked curiously, “So what do you do?”

  The question startled her. She’d assumed he knew. “I’m a telepath.”

  He chuckled. “I know that, baby. I want to know what your work is.”

  That was getting a little more personal than she dared risk, because there were two answers. The job that paid the bills and the work that fed her soul. The work that had killed her father, that she’d pledged to carry on. Finding, helping, hiding
people like her, unregistered psychics. People who’d prefer to live free rather than serve Tel and its secret agendas. Eventually she’d have to share some of that with the Delroi. They’d want to know who they’d rescued and why, of course. But not yet. Not until she was certain they could be trusted. She ignored the instinct screaming that Roarr could be and pressed her lips together.

  “We can talk about it later,” he said, as if sensing her turmoil. He smoothly changed the subject. “I’m a clan chief. Do you know anything about our society?”

  “Not much. I’ve heard you have three castes and you’re divided into clans.” She cocked an eyebrow at him. “And you’re a chief?”

  “Yes. From the southern continent.” He pointed to his face. “You’ll know us by the tattoos. If there is any color in them, they’re from my clan. You’ve heard of our Overchief? Daggar Torfa?”

  She nodded. “He’s married to one of our colonels. A doctor.”

  “Right. He rules all the warriors, but every region has one ruler over all its clans that answer to him. In the south, that’s Barak Trace.”

  “A relative of Falkor’s?”

  He nodded. “His twin.”

  Interesting. It wasn’t a low ranking or middling leader who’d rescued her and her companions then. “Where do you fit in this?”

  “Barak has an advising council. Falkor is his second in command. I’m one of his advisors. My clan also mediates disputes for other clans, the guilds, that sort of thing.”

  She sucked in a deep breath. So Roarr was a powerful man. A man used to getting what he wanted and he’d decided on her. She was suddenly nervous. She tried to edge away, but he held on tight and they continued to walk. It felt aimless to her, and she tried not to be conspicuous as she watched him. His gaze was sharp. He occasionally stopped to talk to someone. She doubted much ever got past him.

  “So now you know what I do,” he broke the silence as they entered the mess hall and joined a line. “What about you?”

  She sighed. He was obviously not going to go for a casual affair. She pressed her lips tight and tried to give him a repressive glare. He held his hands up in mock surrender.