He took a small jar out of his pack. Straightening, he unscrewed the lid, his big cock bouncing with the movement.
“You’re going to like this.” Rand smiled wickedly down at her, anticipation in his gaze as he reached into the jar and scooped up a generous portion of glistening gel.
“What are you going to do to me?” The question was half joking, half flirtatious, but it came out sounding all hoarse.
“Whatever I want.” One corner of his mouth tilted up. “And I want to do a good bit.”
Kneeling beside her, he started smoothing the substance over her chest. It was cold, and she sucked in a gasp, then gasped again as the gel seemed to heat on her skin.
Zara raised her head to look down the length of her body as he spread the substance into an even thinner layer, paying particular attention to her breasts and nipples. Once her torso was completely slick and glistening, he started massaging it into her arms and legs, his big hands warm against her skin. Some of the cold numbness retreated from her paralyzed limbs.
Her skin shimmered under the gel with a rainbow sheen in the light of the helmet. With every moment that passed, it seemed she grew more sensitive, particularly her nipples. Zara’s breathing roughened, her heart beating faster and faster.
Rand scooped out more of the gel, reached between her thighs, and began slicking it over her labia and jutting clit. She sucked in a hard breath, feeling that sensitivity increase until it seemed her pussy throbbed in time to her heartbeat. Aching, she waited for whatever he might want to do to her.
Finally he sat back on his heels, studying her with satisfaction. “There. All done.”
She laughed. “God, I hope not.”
“Feeling neglected, darling?”
“More like dying of anticipation.”
“Well, we can’t have that.” Rand put the jar aside and picked up his pack again. Taking out several metallic objects, he slid them one at a time onto his fingers. At first she thought they were rings, but he pushed them down no further than his fingertips.
What the hell did he have in mind? Zara had read a great deal about vampire sexual techniques, and she wasn’t familiar with any that called for rings. “What are you doing?”
“This.” And he reached down and hovered his hand just a few centimeters over her skin. A brilliant crimson spark leaped from his fingertips to dance over her glistening skin. Pleasure exploded in her senses, so intense she gasped.
He grinned at her. “Like that, do you?”
“What the hell?”
“They call this neuroplay. It’s the newest thing in vampire circles. The gel conducts and intensifies the sensations I create with these neuro stimulators.” He spread his hands, displaying his rings. “The light show is just a pretty plus. Speaking of which…”
The helmet light went out, leaving them in complete darkness thick enough to stir with a spoon. He reached out and began to run his hands just above her skin, tiny bolts leaping and dancing from his fingertips. The sparks changed from red to yellow to green to purple, a rainbow chasing his hand through the darkness. Every one of them sent waves of sensation across her skin, sometimes pleasure, sometimes stinging bites of pain.
Zara cried out, gasping as he played her body, conducting a symphony of sensation and color.
Taste flooded her mouth -- orange bursting on her tongue as if she’d bitten into a piece of the fruit. Next came cherries and mango and chocolate and mocha. “What… What’s that I’m tasting?”
“Well, I did promise you a picnic.” He stroked sparking fingers over her nipples, triggering a tiny electrical storm above her skin. Color chased color with every gesture he made, swamping her with the sensation of phantom teeth nibbling as phantom tongues licked and danced. She panted, groaned, loving the vivid sensations.
Sound was next: snatches of flute music, drums and harps, sweet notes that hung in the air, accompanying the vivid light show he created. He cupped her breast in one hand and bent to take its nipple in his mouth, suckling, his tongue swirling over the exquisitely sensitized flesh. Simultaneously, he floated his free hand over her skin, triggering the sensation of a feather stroking and tickling. That was followed by the feel of tiny mouths sucking, precisely echoing what he was doing with his own.
Rand licked and nibbled his way from one breast to the other as she panted over a snatch of classical guitar and the taste of crisp, sweet apples.
All the while, he watched her face, his gaze fascinated and possessive as he studied her reaction to what he was doing. Sensation piled on sensation, heat rolling over the skin to the piercing notes of birdsong and Vivaldi.
Her neurocuffed arms and legs spread helplessly wide, Zara watched the rainbow light show Rand’s hands wove in the darkness. She’d never felt like this before. Never known this kind of hallucinogenic storm of eroticism -- taste and music and color, overwhelming her dazzled brain until she seemed to float in it, suspended in delight.
Rand rose and moved between her thighs, spreading them wider. She could only twitch helplessly. The light winked out as he gripped her sweating flesh, giving the sparks no room to dance. When he released her, they danced again, a tiny lightning storm.
She tasted wine, something fruity and sweet, as he spread the lips of her pussy. Rand touched slick, juicy flesh, and chocolate rolled over her tongue, laced with caramel. The notes of Wagner’s “Tristan and Isolde” floated in the air like a sweet, distant echo.
He contemplated her sex in the rainbow light spilling from his fingers. Spreading her legs wider, he draped her thighs over his shoulders, giving him maximum access to her pussy.
The light winked out as he held her, leaving her panting in the dark again, feeling the slick sensation of his tongue licking her labia, circling her clit, lapping and stroking.
Zara rolled her hips, groaning in a battered lust. He went on licking, each stroke of his tongue inflicting delicious pleasure. The gel he used made her skin so hypersensitive, the flickering laps felt even more overwhelming.
As he feasted between her thighs, he reached one hand up her body and hovered it just over her breasts. Again, colors rolled in a rainbow of energy dancing from finger to finger. She tasted cream, oranges and peaches.
Zara had no idea how he was working his erotic magic. I need to ask him, she thought, only to have the thought disappear in another wave of feathered delight.
Half maddened by pleasure, she rolled her hips against his working mouth, feeling the press of his teeth and the flick of his tongue. The fingers of his left hand found the opening of her pussy, slid in and began to thrust, teasing little strokes that piled on top of all the other sensations.
“Rand! Oh God, Rand, fuck me! Please, oh please…” What she wanted was his cock. Needed it, craved his solid width stroking inside her juicy pussy, driving to the balls and filling her completely.
His right hand drifted from one breast to the other, trailed by sparks and tiny flickers of colored lightning. “Rand, please, I need your cock, please!”
He moved in an abrupt, desperate rush, as if he couldn’t stand waiting any longer either. Rearing between her thighs, he took his glorious erection in hand and aimed it for the opening of her pussy. Her hungry flesh opened under the pressure of the big shaft, the smooth tip sliding inside, followed by slow, delicious centimeters that forced her walls to spread, filling her until he could get no closer and his hips were pressed tight against hers.
He drew out, taking his time. “You’re mine now,” Rand growled. “I’m not going to let you go.” He drew out, thrust inside again. Hard.
Zara rolled her head against the mattress. His cock was so thick, so long and perfect. “The colonel may have other ideas.”
“I don’t give a fuck about the colonel.” He drew out and thrust in again, the sensation raw and breathtaking. “You’re mine now, and nobody is going to be able to get through me to get to you.”
At those words, the orgasm detonated behind her eyes in a liquid rush that stormed from her pu
ssy, right up her spine to her overwhelmed brain. Zara threw back her head and screamed.
Rand struck for her throat, sinking his fangs deep into her flesh. One hand fisting in her hair, he drank, holding her head still as he fucked her, thick cock grinding in and out.
And every last sensation was utterly real, not a thing of technology and chemistry. Nothing but his body and hers in an ancient, sweet dance. Male and female and desire.
Her orgasm strengthened with every swallow he took of her blood, every thrust of his cock into her wet and eager flesh.
The pleasure rolled on and on, so intense it made bright flashes light the darkness of her closed eyelids. The pleasure of it lifted her up even as he held her safe in the cradle of his arms.
Rand drove all the way to the balls, and she heard his climactic growl against her throat as he drank her blood.
By the time he was finished, she had neither the strength nor the ambition to lift her head. Removing the cuffs, he rolled over with her and simply held her there in the dark. Limp, sated, she concentrated on breathing and listened to his ragged panting as he licked the bites on her throat, his vampire saliva helping the tiny wounds to close.
Chapter Six
Half dozing, Zara lay in Rand’s arms, enjoying the sweet peace she found in listening to his heartbeat. Finally she sighed and stirred. “This is nice…”
“Just nice?” He sounded more amused than offended.
She laughed. “Okay, it was a hell of a lot more than nice, and you damned well know it. I was just thinking that we need to get back to the base before the colonel loses what passes for his mind.”
“Not just yet.”
Something in his tone sent adrenaline flooding her bloodstream. Zara raised her head and looked into his eyes. “Why not? Is something going on you’re not telling me?”
“Oh yeah, I’m just not going to tell you what it is.” She’d have laughed, but the cool, grim tone of his voice told her he was serious.
She also knew there was no use trying to badger him for more information. First, because dominants didn’t badger. Second, he was her captor and didn’t owe her a damn thing.
Especially not information she might somehow use to escape.
The thought had the effect of throwing ice water over her lazy mood. What the hell am I doing? He’s the enemy. He’s working for the Godssonists. No matter how handsome he is, no matter how kind he is, he’s still working for the motherfuckers who are trying to take over my planet.
She tried to ease away from him, no longer interested in the illusion of safety he offered. The arm around her shoulders tightened, holding her in place. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“I can’t sleep like this.”
“Try.” There was so much cool command in his voice, she knew she wouldn’t get away without an out-and-out fight. Which she wouldn’t win. She was stronger thanks to the blood he’d given her, but her body still hadn’t recovered completely from the long starvation. Besides, he was a vampire.
Resentfully, Zara settled back into Rand’s arms. A moment later he stirred, caught her upper arms, and lifted her off his chest. She glowered at him, irritated. “I thought you said we weren’t going anywhere.”
“We aren’t.” He rolled over, lifted the pack, and started fishing around inside it.
He pulled out a knife.
Zara tensed as fear shot into her bloodstream, far different from the delicious anxiety she’d felt earlier. “What are you going to do with that?” She had to work to keep her voice from shaking.
“We’re on a picnic, remember? I still owe you dessert.” He ran the blade diagonally over his chest. It wasn’t a deep cut, or particularly long, but blood welled, dark red in the dim light. Rand lay back down beside her and gathered her into her his arms. “Drink.”
She hesitated, wondering what game he was playing now.
“Do it, Zara.” His voice sounded softer now, intimate and deep. “You need it.”
He was right. Even after drinking from him last night, she could still use another infusion because she’d been so bloodsick.
Cupping the back of her head, he drew her mouth to the wound. “Drink.”
With a sigh of erotic delight, Zara began to swallow, the taste of copper rolling over her tongue. He doesn’t act like a man who’s just playing me. A player would want to keep her weak, giving her just enough blood to keep her immune system from killing her, but not enough that she’d have the strength for an escape attempt. But if he was as kind and compassionate as his gesture suggested, why would he work for the Godssonists?
His blood sang to her senses, even as cold rationality told her he was an enemy even as her warm heart insisted he would never hurt her.
She had no idea which instinct to believe.
* * *
A chiming sound woke Zara, and she opened her eyes as the dim light suddenly brightened from the helmet still resting beside the mattress. Rand reached out a long arm, grabbed the blanket that lay in a messy pile and flipped it over both of them. “Answer,” he ordered his helmet. His voice vibrated with tension, and she realized he was afraid.
Zara tensed. He’d never sounded afraid, even when he’d been facing down Lordsvengeance.
Adela Rand’s image appeared, floating in the air over the helmet projector, the three-dimensional image so vivid it was as if the real woman stood there. “He’s dead,” she announced baldly. “And I’m not. Where are you?”
Zara felt Rand relax, his breath whooshing out as if he’d been holding it. “We’re in my bolt hole.”
Adela smiled. “That’s a relief. The last time we talked about this, you said you had no intention of hiding out. Though I’ll say again, only an idiot wouldn’t take cover when he faced three hundred to one odds.”
Zara blinked. “What the hell is going on?”
“My plan worked,” Adela said, before turning to her son. “So why did you resist the temptation to play Custer at Little Big Horn?”
“Things changed.”
“I see that.” Adele’s eyes flicked to Zara, who felt heat rising to her face. The blanket might have saved their modesty, but it was painfully obvious what they’d been doing. The older woman frowned. “You do realize they’re going to come after you if this works? They’ll want to take you hostage, use you for a bargaining chip so the rest of the rats can escape the sinking ship.”
“They’re not going to take me.”
His mother’s eyes widened in alarm. “Don’t do anything melodramatic, Rand. You have something to live for now.”
“Yeah, I do. And no, I don’t intend to go down in a rain of plasma.”
“Good.” She looked as intensely relieved as he had when her face appeared in the projection. “So you’re putting the plan into action?”
“Yeah.”
“Excellent. Everything’s in motion from my end. My team will be hitting the base in about ten minutes, so you’d better be prepared. Some of the Godssonists may get away and come gunning for you.”
“They won’t be able to find me.”
“What are you going to do if they do?”
“Don’t worry, Mom.” He smiled slightly. “I have a contingency plan.”
They agreed to check in with each other at one hour intervals and said their goodbyes.
No sooner had Adela’s image vanished than Zara demanded, “What the fuck is going on?”
“We’re taking care of your little Godssonist problem.” He sat up, grabbed the top of his armor and started pulling it on, preparing for battle.
“So I gathered. And I hope that message was encrypted, or we’re fucked.”
“Don’t worry, darling, we always use galactic grade encryption. The idiots who work for Godsson won’t be able to crack it. Anyway, they’re a little too busy fighting for their lives right now to worry about intercepting messages from me.” He rolled to his feet, picked up her uniform and tossed it to her. “Get dressed. I hope we’re not going to get company, but I’d just
as soon they don’t catch us naked if we do.”
Zara snatched her uniform out of the air and put it on, then rose and slid her feet into her boots. As she started closing seals, she said, “If you knew it was possible we’d be attacked, why the hell did we have sex?”
“Because I also knew it was going to take Mother and her mercs time to reach Godsson and kill him. I figured we’d have a good three hours, four at the outside, before the shit hit the airlock.”
“I don’t understand. And God, I wish I had my combat armor.”
“Yeah, I wish you had your armor too. Otherwise, you can rest assured we wouldn’t be hiding in a cave. We’d be helping my mom’s mercs take the base right now.”
“But I don’t understand how you and your mother got involved in trying to stop the Godssonists. You’re a mercenary. They hired you. Why did you switch sides?”
“Because I never should have gone to work for them to begin with.” Rand shook his head. “I’ve fought in six wars and four corporate conflicts, and I know the kind of nastiness combat brings out in people. But the G.A.E. has a viciousness born of fanaticism.”
“Yeah, we were unpleasantly surprised too,” Zara said dryly. “I mean, they’re just one star system over, and we’ve always traded with them. We kind of pitied them for being so damned gullible as to fall for Godsson’s con. Then the next thing we know, they’re invading and massacring people.”
“Godsson’s a greedy bastard,” Rand told her. “He saw an opportunity to rob your people and add to his power base. He figured you’d cave once you realized how badly he had you outnumbered.”
Zara snorted. “Not very fucking likely.”
“He should have seen that coming, but he’s stupid on top of being greedy.” His lips twisted. “I should have known better than to have anything to do with the G.A.E., but at the time they came knocking I was broke and needed the work. When I first started to realize how ugly this war really was, I told myself I was a professional, and I’d taken the damned job. Then a few months ago, Lordsvengeance and his little band of psychos slaughtered an entire village of noncombatants right in front of me.” He stared off into the distance as if at some brutal vision. “Kids and old people, because everybody else was off fighting. And they killed every mother-fucking one of them. Massacres happen sometimes, when you’ve got an asshole in charge -- that doesn’t mean the whole army is evil. Then I discovered killing noncombatants had become policy. Godsson had decided that was the best way to break the Falaran Coalition’s will to fight.”
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