Tamryn heard him, but she was still looking at the wall in the bathroom. A chill that had nothing to do with the temperature went through her as she walked closer. One of those tile-like things had writing on it, writing that reminded her of the artifacts in Anise’s lab. “What is this, Makkon?”
“Ah, the reason my team wasn’t all that fascinated by your captain’s artifacts, aside from the news of the FTL engine. We have a lot of them down here. Some of the tunnels themselves were originally carved out by the ancient aliens; our people found them when they were first marooned on the surface. It’s a big part of what helped them survive.”
Tamryn flinched at the word marooned. Makkon never spoke like someone deprived, like someone who resented the life he had been born into, but she couldn’t help but compare it to the idyllic home where she had grown up, a big sprawling house in a beautiful climate with hundreds of acres of private forests and lakes around. Once again, she found herself empathizing with him, with his people. She could understand why they’d been driven to try something to change their lives, especially if all of the sources of food had been killed off.
She dropped her chin to her hand, trying to think of some alternative solution, something that wouldn’t end with Fleet annihilating what remained of his culture, his people. Him. Her gaze shifted toward the wall again, the tiles. She didn’t know if they held any secrets, but might there be artifacts down here that would prove valuable? What if there were more examples of that engineering language that Anise was trying to decipher?
“I’ll leave you to rest.” Makkon closed the chest—maybe he’d noticed that she wasn’t paying attention to him. It wasn’t her intent to ignore him, but she couldn’t help but think, to wonder if something less than a dire ending could be wrought from ice and stone.
“Wait,” she said as he headed for the door and she realized he meant to leave her alone. “This is your room.”
“I have friends I can stay with.” His eyes were sad as he responded, no hint in them that he expected an invitation to stay here, or that he thought he deserved one.
That made her heart ache. On the ship, after hearing him threaten her and speak coldly to her father, she had mistrusted him. She had wondered if he had lied to her all along, but now that she’d had more time to think, she doubted that was the case. Kidnapping her hadn’t been his original plan, she believed, and he probably hadn’t wanted to use her that way. He had been nothing but chastised for it since rejoining his people. A part of her had wanted to defend him back in that meeting, to point out that he had been the one on the ground, the one who had to make the decisions in a less than ideal situation. Now, she found she wanted to comfort him. Even if he was still the enemy, he was also... Makkon. Someone she had grown to like—maybe more than like—whether it made any sense or not.
And his people? They weren’t at all what she had imagined. They hardly seemed like rapists or criminals—they were just frustrated, bitter, and beleaguered. At least, that described the adults. The children had been cheerful enough. Odd, but she hadn’t imagined children down here. It was a silly thing, since grownups had to come from somewhere, but she had pictured a base that housed legions of people like Makkon and Brax, hardened warriors ready to go on the attack at a moment’s notice. Instead, she had found a civilization, what remained of one. Even if nobody had spoken to her, and the government leaders had been grumpy with Makkon, she didn’t want these people condemned to death.
When she didn’t speak, her mind too busy swimming with these thoughts, Makkon turned and reached for the knob.
“Wait,” Tamryn said, walking toward him.
“Do you need something else?”
“Some time to think.” She stopped a step away from him, close enough to touch his chest if she wanted to. “And a bath.”
He nodded. “You should have time for both. Nobody will bother you until we hear back from your military—or we decide that another message must be sent.”
Again, he shifted toward the door, but this time, Tamryn was close enough to touch his arm. She reached out, clasping it before he turned the knob. He paused, tilting his head with curiosity. The muscles of his bare arm lay beneath her palm, and she slid her hand along the bulging contours, tracing a vein with her finger.
Makkon swallowed loudly enough that she heard it.
“I don’t want to do those things alone,” Tamryn said.
“I... I don’t understand.”
“Bathing. Thinking. It should be a team effort.”
He shook his head. “How can you want anything to do with me?”
“For one thing, I don’t know how to work that bathtub.” Tamryn smiled and shifted closer until his arm rested against her belly. “The ice block sounds complicated. And you forgot to point out where the towels are.”
“Oh. That was thoughtless of me.” Makkon lifted his hand to the side of her face, slowly and warily, like he was afraid she might bolt. She couldn’t blame him, not when she had been glaring at him the whole way here. But that was when she had been imagining a fate that involved torture and interrogation, or at least being locked in a dark cell. Instead, he had offered her his own room and a warm bath.
His fingers brushed her cheek, and she shivered with anticipation. Since he didn’t seem certain that she wanted to be touched, she placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned into him for a kiss. At first, he didn’t move, and she slid her tongue along his lower lip, tasting him and inhaling his masculine scent. His hesitation did not last long, and he opened his mouth, taking her lips with his. His kiss was full of wonder, but quickly heated to a stronger emotion, to desire, passion. His arm shifted to wrap around her, pulling her close, and she soon felt every knotty contour of his muscled body pressed against her.
In their last encounter, he had left her shuddering with pleasure only to be interrupted before he could find his own release. She slid one hand up the side of his sinewy neck and pushed through his thick hair to grasp the back of his head. Her fingernails curled into his scalp enough to arouse pleasure, not to hurt. She no longer wanted to hurt him. She wanted to figure out a way to give him what he wanted. Even if she had no idea how to do that on a grand scale yet, she could give him herself. She admitted that she wanted him to take her for her own pleasure too. His deft tongue had been delicious as it had explored between her thighs, but she wanted more than that. She wanted his thick cock inside of her, rubbing and straining against her inner heat, bringing the deep, intense satisfaction she had craved since he had first touched her.
Makkon must have been reading her mind, because he picked her up.
She wrapped her legs around him, gasping at the hard bulge pressing between her thighs. “Where are we going?” she asked between kisses. She shifted her lips to his throat so he would be able to respond.
“To the lavatory. I never showed you the towels.”
“Mm.” She kissed his warm skin, then nibbled his ear. “The last time I saw you with a towel, you did unseemly things to it.”
“Only because you wouldn’t let me do unseemly things to you.”
A moment wasted. Tamryn wrapped her arms and legs tighter around him, feeling possessive and full of regret at the thought that she had truly tried to kill him. If she had succeeded, he wouldn’t be setting her on the wide rim of the tub, turning on the water, and slipping his hands under her shirt. She luxuriated in the steam rising from the water, moistening her skin and warming her body even as his roaming fingers sent tingles of pleasure to her core.
“That was unkind of me,” she murmured, bringing her mouth back to his, using her lips to apologize for all of their earlier strife.
“Very cruel,” he responded between kisses. “You should have known.” The room’s cool air teased her skin, but his warm fingers kneaded her flesh, the contrast exhilarating.
“Known what?” she asked as he pushed up her shirt. She helped him pull it over her head and drop it to the floor. Her bra soon followed, and his hands cupped her, thumbs whispering acro
ss her nipples. They hardened eagerly for him.
“There was no need to kill me. I was already yours by then.”
His heartfelt words sent a thrill through her, a surge of primal satisfaction that someone so powerful would claim to be hers. That he would claim it.
He kissed his way down her throat, sliding his tongue along her collarbone and nipping at tender flesh. She dropped her head back, exposing herself to him, trusting him and wanting him to have access to all of her. When his lips found a nipple, he sucked eagerly, making grunts of excitement. His attention awakened every millimeter of skin and jolted her all the way to her groin. Moisture gathered between her legs as her need built, and she couldn’t imagine waiting for the tub to fill or for a bath before they joined.
As he caressed her breasts, his tongue moving exquisitely around and atop her nipples, she ran her hands down his muscular arms and over to his waist. She pulled his vest over his head, a challenge since he didn’t have much interest in leaving her breasts. She grinned, excited that he found her so irresistible. After a brief pause, during which his vest ended up on the pile with her shirt, he came back to her breasts with an intensity that made her gasp again. His thumb stroked her through her trousers, rubbing along the seam, and for a moment, all she could do was pant and hang on, the sensations making her eyes cross. She let go long enough to tear her trousers open, not caring that she nearly pitched backward into the tub as she tried to wriggle out of them. He caught her and made short work of the remainder of her clothes, then dropped to his knees to remove her shoes. Soon his hands cupped her bare ass, and she thought to help him remove the rest of his clothes, but he remained on his knees, gazing up at her, his eyes charged.
She remembered the dark cold of the vault where she had shuddered and cried out under the expert touch of his tongue. Her body went molten at the thought of a repeat, this time with the room’s warm lighting letting her see his interest, his desire. Hoping she wasn’t being presumptuous, she shifted her legs apart. The cold air teased her moist, exposed flesh, but he lowered his face, blocking the draft as the stubble of his unshaven cheek rasped against her inner thigh. As his tongue slipped between her lips, she gasped, anticipation heating her like a bonfire.
Aware of the steaming water behind her, she grabbed the back of his head. He kneaded her cheeks as he held her, and she knew he wouldn’t let her fall, but as soon as he touched her, a long languid lick that left her breathless, she needed that handhold. Within seconds, she was squirming, panting, trying to press herself up to him. Her fingers dug into his hair, and all thoughts left her mind, leaving nothing but the agony of unquenched desire pulsing through her.
“Makk,” she groaned, not sure what more she wanted to say, just that she needed him. But he knew that.
One of his hands slid around to her belly, then moved lower, his finger hooking her folds, exposing flesh throbbing with sensitivity. He rubbed her even as his tongue delved deeper, finding her inner walls. She bucked against him as he stroked the most sensitive flesh of all. Soon, she couldn’t think, couldn’t manage anything except to squirm against him, practically climbing him in an attempt to get closer, to make him go faster, to satisfy that aching desire. Finally, his lips found her clitoris and he sucked in rhythm with her need until she cried out, overcome. She would have slid off the edge of the tub and collapsed atop him, if he hadn’t held her. Even so, she leaned her arms on his shoulders, needing the extra support.
Makkon rose slowly, his eyes still charged with electricity, with restrained need as they met hers. Though she was still breathless, his smoldering desire reminded her that she had intended to console him.
She pushed a hand through his hair, leaning her face on his shoulder, needing a minute to recover but wanting to promise him that she would, and that she wanted him. She kissed his throat. “You make it very hard to keep thinking of you as an enemy.”
“Good,” he whispered, his voice hoarse. He turned off the water, which was only inches from the lip of the oversized tub, the steam caressing her bare back.
She was very aware of his coiled muscles beneath her arms, the heat and need radiating from his hard body. Her gaze drifted toward his crotch, toward the bulge trying to escape his trousers. She remembered holding him back in her room, rubbing him, wrapping her mouth around him, and fresh heat curled through her body.
“You should be wearing fewer clothes,” she pointed out and slid off the lip of the tub, a fur rug soft beneath her bare feet.
He reached for his belt, clearly intending to respond to her suggestion, but she caught his hands with her own.
“Let me.” She kissed him, then unfastened his belt for him.
As she lowered his trousers over his hips, his hands found something else to do, stroking up and down her sides and sliding around to massage her. She could have melted right there, remembering the magic those hands could do, but she wanted to see him, all of him. She pulled out his hard shaft and grew excited by how eagerly it strained toward her.
Wanting to take away the sting he might have felt in talking to his leaders, she gazed at him and stroked him with loving care. “You’re magnificent,” she said, then met his eyes, showing him that she meant it.
He hadn’t seemed to expect the compliment, for he stared wordlessly at her for a moment, but then he grasped either side of her face and kissed her with such intensity that her knees nearly buckled. She stroked him as their tongues darted and danced, gradually quickening her pace, aware of him throbbing against her palms. Sweat glistened on the ridges of muscle of his abdomen, and his breathing came quickly, his broad chest rising and falling. He jerked off his boots. His trousers followed, the material nearly ripping in his eagerness to tear it away.
“Tamryn,” he said hoarsely, lifting her to the edge of the tub again, maneuvering between her legs, his cock nudging her lips. He kissed her hard, a kiss she met with growing desire of her own. “I want to be in you. I need you.”
“I want that too.” She spread herself, inviting him in. “Now,” she added, the word almost a growl.
He did not hesitate. He plunged into her, as if he had been thinking of nothing else since they met. She gasped as he filled her, her fingers digging into his back, wanting to keep him close—and being afraid she would fall if she let go. She rocked into him, matching his pace, his almost frenzied desire pumping into her. Her desire built anew, fueled by the words he half panted, half whispered, and she was soon the one driving their pace, flesh molding against flesh, coming apart, then crashing together again. He reached down as he neared climax, slipping his thumb between her folds, rubbing her as he thrust in and out. That added touch took her over the edge again, and it was all she could do not to flop back into the tub as her entire body melted. He finished a moment later, groaning her name as he poured himself into her.
She slid her hands over his slick, heated body, wanting to keep him close, relishing the feel of him inside of her and against her. He cupped the back of her head and kissed her eyes, her lips, then her throat.
“Better than a towel?” she murmured.
“Better than anything.”
He nuzzled her throat, kissing the sweat and steam from her skin, and she had to agree.
Chapter 24
Hot water lapped at Makkon’s shoulders as he gazed at Tamryn sitting across from him and fought to keep the ridiculous smile off his face. His problems were as great as they had been an hour or a day ago, but for this moment, he couldn’t feel anything but contentment. All right, he could feel desire finding a toehold within him again, too, as he watched her breasts float in the water. They were perfect for his hands, the nipples pink and soft as she basked in the tub’s warmth. He smiled, thinking of what he might do to cause them to grow hard and pert again.
He forced his gaze upward, though it lingered on the pale curve of her throat, framed by strands of thick auburn hair, the tips damp from the water. Her head lay back on the rim of the tub, a blissful expression on her face. He woul
d hold back notions of disturbing her and attend to actual bathing needs.
He grabbed shampoo from the shelf by the tub and poured some into his hand. The surface of the water rippled with his movements, and her eyes opened, more gray than green in the soft lighting. He rubbed the shampoo into his hair, pleased that she watched him through her lashes as he did so, seemingly admiring his arms and chest. He wriggled his eyebrows at her and lathered slowly, making a show.
Under the surface, her foot found his thigh, and she rubbed him with her sole. A couple of inches to the side, and she would have found something else, something not nearly as relaxed as it should have been in the warm water.
“Before, I told you I needed to think,” Tamryn said, watching him contently.
“Yes. Have you done so?”
“Hm, I was distracted mostly, but for the last few minutes, I’ve thought a little. I think that if you let me talk to my father, maybe I would have more sway acting as a mediator rather than a hostage.”
Aware of her watching him, Makkon kept from frowning, but his lips certainly wanted to turn downward. If her father had any idea what was going on down here, he wouldn’t think well of Tamryn, and he might consider this entire kidnapping some strange elopement between lovers rather than a real negotiating tactic.
He did not wish to irritate her when the night had been going so well, so Makkon chose his words carefully. “You don’t think it would be better for my people to be seen as the enemy and you to be seen as someone fighting the enemy rather than anything else?”
“Aren’t you tired of the galaxy seeing you as the enemy?”
If only she knew.
“Yes, but the tactic we chose ensured that won’t change.” He waved upward to indicate the space station.
Maybe he shouldn’t have, because the contentment drained from her face, and her expression grew guarded.
Dolt. What had he been thinking, reminding her that she had lost comrades up there, that he had been responsible for that?
Frost Station Alpha 1-6: The Complete Series Page 28
