Savage Legacy

by Lora Leigh

  “There was no other choice, Shane,” Devlin reminded him bleakly, staring back at him compassionately. “You have her now. You can heal her. If you can break past her reserve.”

  “I shall do more than break past it,” he assured his commander confidently. “I will destroy it. I will not allow her to hide from me any longer, I promise you this.”

  “Excellent,” Devlin nodded. “We’ll meet in the parking lot within the hour. Kanna left at daybreak for our next stop, just this side of Kansas City. She’ll meet us there with supplies and more clothing for Ariel. Until then, she managed to purchase the leathers she needs for now.” He nodded to the clothing Joshua lifted from the desk beside him. “Get her dressed and let’s roll. No helmets. No hiding. You’ll ride between the rest of us to afford her protection in case of accidents or attacks by Jonar. Though I doubt he can secure the power to attack in daylight.”

  Shane took the leather, his cock swelling, hardening at the thought of seeing his woman once again in the clothing that had shown her lithe body to advantage. He accepted the soft doeskin, specially prepared for her once Kanna had managed to track down her measurements. His hands smoothed over it, imagining her behind him, pressed close on the Harley that had replaced the super-fast ZX10 from the night before.

  “We might meet within the hour,” Derek drawled in amusement. “As hard as our Viking’s getting over there, we might not head out until next week.”

  A smile creased Shane’s face at the thought of that.

  “I could only get so lucky this day,” he finally snorted, knowing well that Ariel would lead him a fine chase. He was looking forward to it. Anticipating it. “We will be there,” he finally promised as Devlin watched him suspiciously. “This ride, I would not miss for the world.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “So why don’t I have my own motorcycle?” Ariel paused beside Shane as he led her to the monster machine rather than the sleek speed demon they had ridden the night before.

  Dressed in the softest leather she had ever felt in her life, she felt a confidence that she knew could well knock her on her ass. Her dagger was strapped to her thigh, her sword placed inside the flat scabbard that ran down the side of the motorcycle. She had never seen anything like it. On each side of the powerful black cherry pearl machine were slender, hard plastic scabbards that locked each sword into place. In the metal saddlebags were extra clothes and daggers, and several high-powered pistols.

  “Aren’t you guys a little over-prepared here?” she asked him cautiously as he placed her dagger in along with his and locked the lid in place.

  “Not hardly,” he grunted as he pushed her hair aside and attached a small receiver and mic to her ear. “This is your comm link. It’s set to private communications with mine, or you can press the button on the earpiece and you’ll be in a shared link with the group if needed. We’ll ride during the daylight hours with stops in between to eat and rest, but we need to make our destination within five days. We’ll stop outside Kansas City tonight to rest.”

  “What about helmets?” She didn’t see any and no one else was wearing them.

  He gave her a horrified look. “What good is immortality if you can’t throw away the helmets?”

  Her eyes widened. “Listen, Bub, I’m not immortal. I need a helmet. Thank you very much.”

  He grinned slowly, his gaze once again going over the lace-up vest that was only just barely decent. She loved it.

  “From the moment I found you in that storm, Ariel, your life was assured for this time. Only Jonar and the technology he possesses can kill you now. That crystal and the winds you command will ensure that.”

  “Yeah. Right,” she snapped out sarcastically. “Just what I need now. Immortality. Plenty of time to be tortured. How pleasant.”

  “Or plenty of time to be pleasured.” His large hand cupped her hip, pulling her close to his big body, so big and hard that it made her breath catch in her throat as his head lowered, making her feel enfolded, protected. “When this is done, Ariel, I will show you how special immortality can be. The many, many hours spent learning all we do not know about touching, stroking, hearing your screams echo around me in pleasure.”

  Her breasts swelled, her nipples hardening and poking into the soft leather encasing them. She could feel her pussy clenching, aching, sweet moisture dampening the inner lips where the butter-soft leather caressed them. Her breathing altered, increased, blood rushed through her veins.

  “You’ll be lucky if I don’t castrate you first,” she snarled weakly. “Imagine that one. Eternity without, Shane. That would suck.”

  His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “It would be best not to say ‘suck’ in my presence,” was his only retort. “It’s been a long time, sweet wife, and the fantasies have been many.”

  He turned away before she could reply and straddled the powerful machine before glancing back at her. “Mount up, sweet thing,” he drawled wickedly. “Time to ride.”

  The motor flared to life, hard, pulsing, a masculine growl of power that somehow suited him.

  “Just what I need,” she muttered. “A horny immortal with delusions of pleasure. Just my luck.”

  She settled into the seat, her legs straddling his wider body, the position not lost on her by a long shot. The backrest wrapped around her securely, holding her in place as they moved out.

  “You know, I need to call home soon.” She tested the mic that lay against her cheek. “My partner will worry.”

  “We’ve taken care of that.” The smooth rumble of his voice sent shivers of pleasure down her spine. “Your partner and attorneys are aware that you are now in hiding with your security force until this matter can be taken of.”

  Her hands gripped his waist, though with her snug balance and the comfort of the backrest she knew there was no need. It felt good though. Secure.

  Find her. She’s crazy… Ariel flinched. Was it memory or words she heard in the wind? How many times had her father accused her of insanity, threatening to have her locked up, put away and kept safe from herself?

  She has the dagger… A voice so frightening, so filled with evil that Ariel only wanted to hide from it.

  I won’t be found… Soft, musical, filled with bitterness, the unknown voice was a wisp of sound past her ears.

  I must be found… Another stark with pain, her voice thick with tears.

  And it continued. Words that made no sense, others that would have terrified her if she allowed herself to believe in them. She tried to stop, to hide her head against Shane’s back, to keep the wind from brushing past her head, but nothing seemed to stop the steady flow of sounds that came to her, barely heard, yet there all the same. Like ghostly voices, snatches of conversation, and with them, brief flashes of memory that she knew could not be her own.

  She had awakened like that in the hospital. Convinced she was someone else. Somewhere else. She had seen blood, watched a man—tall, strong—disappearing before her eyes.

  “No… Don’t leave me…” she had screamed out madly. “No…not in the dark, Savage…not alone…” And the darkness had tried to swallow her. A forever darkness that she knew she would never escape from.

  The psychiatrists had arrived the next day. A week in evaluations that she had only just managed to pass. Weak, in pain, knowing that her father would use any excuse to institutionalize her, Ariel had fought every instinct inside her to ignore the voices that drifted in the air around her.

  She had slept lightly, secretly disposed of the sleeping aids she had been given and fought the betraying weakness of her own body. And she had prayed. Nearly unconscious, battered, terrified of dying, yet even more frightened of what could await her if she lived and her father won, she had fought the power building inside her.

  Weeks later her attorneys had finally prevailed and the security force they had hired had carried her from the care her father had set up and taken her home. If only that had ended her problems.

  Ariel…

  The
wizard’s tears…

  I will not be found…

  We must have that dagger…

  Insane… She’s crazy…

  Find her…or kill her…

  It was never-ending, just as always. It made no sense, and she was certain she didn’t want it to.

  “Are you okay?” Shane’s voice came to her through the comm link, gentle, filled with strength as she rested against his back.

  “Just tired.” She didn’t know how long they had been on the road, but she knew it was well past noon.

  “We’ll rest soon,” he promised her, his voice inordinately gentle as he reached back to wrap his hand around her leg for a long moment.

  That touch, strong and secure, filled her. Why it mattered, she wasn’t sure, but it gave her the strength she needed to go on. Just as she had always done, with voices, pleas and gasping cries echoing around her, she continued on…

  Chapter Thirteen

  It was well after dark before Ariel found herself showered and well-fed, lying limply on her stomach across the king-sized bed in yet another expensive motel. This time, Kanna had a damned banquet set up in their room. Trays of fruit, hot roast and potatoes, freshly baked bread and a variety of side dishes.

  Shane, of course, ate the better part of the meal with a gusto that amazed her. After eating, he had been kind enough to give her the shower first as he tossed her another gown. She remembered the tatters the first had been left in and fled to the bathroom before he could comment.

  Now, she drifted sleepily, almost content, as the bed cushioned her weary body. If it wasn’t for the arousal that still pulsed inside her, she could have slept. It was irritating, and if she wasn’t exhausted it would have been terrifying. But it wasn’t going away.

  Her breasts were swollen and sensitive, the flesh between her thighs aching and wet despite the fact she had spent several minutes drying it after her shower. Even the light coating of talcum powder she used hadn’t helped. And Shane wasn’t making things easier.

  He had taken every opportunity to touch her, to have her touch him, refusing to allow her to space herself away from him.

  “You need to let me massage your thighs for you,” he spoke from behind her, his voice rough, heavy with sensuality. “You’ll be sore otherwise.”

  Her thighs clenched in anticipation.

  “No thanks, I’m fine.” Her weary body protested that statement almost violently.

  “You won’t be able to walk tomorrow without it,” he warned her, sitting down on the bed by her feet, one large hand circling her ankle. “Come on, I promise you’ll like it.”

  She would like it too much.

  “Go bother someone else,” she muttered. “I just want to sleep.”

  She had to bite her lip as that strong hand began to knead her lower leg.

  “I have a special salve, just for sore muscles,” he said absently as he continued to massage her. “It will make you more relaxed, your muscles better able to endure the long ride.”

  If she got any more relaxed she was going to rape him, she thought violently, shivering as his thumb pressed against the tight muscle and rubbed soothingly.

  “Come on, Ariel. You aren’t really afraid you can’t resist me, are you?” Smooth and blatantly amused, his whisper had her stiffening at the challenge.

  “I can resist you fine,” she snapped, though she was too tired to give it much heat. “I don’t need a massage.” Then she betrayed herself with the minute whimper that escaped her lips as he continued to work her calf muscle.

  “Don’t need one, huh?”

  She sighed in regret when he stopped and moved away from her.

  A part of her was screaming at her for being so aloof, for not rolling over, opening her thighs and demanding that he attend to the ache he was building, touch by touch, between them.

  Her cunt was weeping, moist and slick, hot and aching.

  “Here we go.” His hands brushed aside the gown that lay to her ankles a second before his hands smoothed from her ankle to her knee, spreading a cooling, silky emollient over her skin. “Alyx gave me the salve. He said it would help your muscles after being confined to bed for so long.”

  Alyx. That damned alien, she thought hazily before her mind snapped in gear and a frown crossed her brow. It eased away as Shane continued to massage her lower leg, drawing a low, pleasured moan from her throat.

  “That’s illegal,” she mumbled. “It feels too good.”

  He chuckled. “Not near as good as it could feel,” he answered wickedly before moving to the other leg and creating magic there.

  She drifted in a haze of relaxation, her muscles slowly loosening beneath the cool wash of the salve, only to warm pleasurably moments later. She drifted on a cloud of contentment that was marred only by the slow, intense ache centered in her pussy.

  “Your skin is so soft,” his voice sounded strangled as his hands moved slowly beneath the gown, one on each leg, his thumbs pressing into her skin smoothing the salve onto muscles that ached in exhaustion. “Perfect, silky skin. I have long remembered how soft your flesh was, Ariel.”

  Her lower stomach clenched, her womb convulsing as his fingers pushed higher, closer to the pulsing center of her body. Warmth gathered like hot syrup between her legs, spilling slowly from her vagina as it wept in need for his touch.

  “I can smell your heat.” The gown inched up further, pushing to her upper thighs as his hands continued to massage her flesh with wicked strokes. “Sweet and warm, beckoning me to taste.”

  She couldn’t stop the small cry in response. It spilled from her lips as her thighs parted at his urging. The air around her throbbed with lust, scented with the smell of Shane. A hot, aroused, fully ready to fuck her into oblivion, Shane.

  “God, Ariel.” His voice was thick with hunger as her gown moved further up her thighs, finally stopping just above the rounded curve of her buttocks.

  She was bare to him now. She should fight, she should push him away, demand he stop, but she couldn’t. She was enthralled, held in a grip of anticipation and need unlike anything she could have imagined.

  “You’re wet for me.” His voice was so deep, so rough, it was guttural. “I can see it Ariel, glistening on your sweet pussy, thick and heavy with your need.”

  She shuddered with arousal, her thighs clenching beneath his hands as he notched them further apart. Then his hands were smoothing up her back, pushing her gown ahead of them until they met her neck. The loose neckline cleared her head and she bit her lip against the tremulous cry that would have escaped as his hand urged her to her back.

  Dear God, if she had the strength to say no to him before, it fled then. He stared at her, his eyes such a dark gray they were nearly black, his expression so hungry, so drowsily intent that it left her trembling.

  He pulled the gown from her arms, dropping it to the side of the bed before his gaze consumed her body. Her swollen, hard-tipped breasts, her stomach, between her legs. His gaze was almost a physical caress as one hand tucked between her thighs, pulling them further apart, his eyes devouring her.

  “Do you ever pleasure yourself?” he whispered then, shocking her.

  “What?” Her eyes rounded as his hand cupped her inner thigh. His gaze came back to her, heavy-lidded, starkly male and filled with such a dark sensuality it nearly took her breath.

  “Pleasure yourself,” he whispered again. “Have you ever done this?”

  She swallowed tightly. “What does it matter?”

  His eyes narrowed, darkened, his nostrils flaring savagely.

  “Did it feel good?” he whispered thickly. “When you touched yourself, did you enjoy it? Did you find your release with it?”

  She was shaking, held in the grip of an eroticism she couldn’t explain or fight.

  “None of your business…” she gasped as his fingers moved higher, his warmth barely feathering the wet curls that lay there.

  “I would know,” he whispered, his voice low but so rough it was nearly pain
ful to hear. “I would see you do it now, if you have. I would have you show me your pleasure.”

  Her hands clenched where they lay above her head. She was not going to do this.

  “You’re crazy,” she gasped. “Just do it and be done with it, before I ache to death.”

  A smile, rueful and sexy, crossed his lips.

  “I will not rush this,” he denied her command. “I would treasure it. Make it last. Gorge myself on every sweet cry from your lips, every erotic passage we can make together. This I have fantasized about for so long. Longer than you can know. Seeing you abandoned in your pleasure, seeing those things that you know bring you pleasure.”

  His voice cut through her shame, her embarrassment. It washed over her soul, and left her gasping at the brutal hunger in his voice.

  “Pervert,” she accused him roughly.

  “Aye,” he agreed with a sensual quirk of his lips. “In ways you can never guess. Do this for me, Ariel. Allow me to see your pleasure, to see you before me, wet and wild. Tempt me to take you.”

  Her gaze flickered from his face to the erection pressing tight beneath the lacings of his leather pants. It was thick and hard, pressing so tight against the soft leather pants that she could see the imprint of the thickly flared head.

  Tempt me to take you. The words pulsed around her as his hands went to the laces of his pants. He released them slowly, loosening them until the material parted and she could glimpse the hard stalk of his cock rising from between his thighs.

  Slowly, he eased her thighs further apart before moving between, his legs spreading her further as he watched her.

  “Touch your lips,” he urged her roughly. “Think of my kiss, of how hot and hungry we become when we kiss.”

  “Just kiss me,” she moaned, clenching her fists tighter to keep from doing as he asked.