Guardian

by Knight, Angela

  His palm was big and intensely, surprisingly warm, his long fingers growing almost hot enough to burn as he touched her. As she watched, sparks danced around his hand. They seemed to fizz their way into her skin, making the wound heal with a strange, ticklish sensation that reminded her of champagne bubbles. The sexual hunger of riaat awoke again, heat flushing through her body, drawing her nipples tight, pulling into a hard, tight knot of arousal deep in her belly.

  As if he sensed her reaction, Nick’s eyes lifted to hers, hot and green and very male. The glow from his hand cast light across his angular, handsome face. She watched him swallow hard. “Well. I need . . . I need to do something about that leg.”

  Riane caught her breath as he dropped to one knee, hesitated, then covered the puncture wound with his hand. She jolted at the abrupt sting of pain.

  “It’s deep.” His voice sounded harsh. “Am I hurting you?”

  Riane cleared her throat. “No.” Her eyes dropped below his belt.

  He was hardening beneath his zipper, thick, delicious, and promising. Her body purred approval. Her mouth went dry.

  What the hell am I doing? He’s half-Xeran!

  . . . not the warrior your father was . . .

  But he also seemed oddly innocent of Xeran fanaticism, as if his mother truly had abandoned him in the past with no knowledge of his history. And these strange abilities of his were definitely not Xeran.

  Actually, they were more like those of the alien Sela than anything else. Riane frowned at the thought. Charlotte Holt had been Xeran, and she’d had psychic abilities that she’d somehow gotten from those telekinetic aliens . . .

  So what was he?

  Before she could pursue that question any further, power poured into Riane’s wounded thigh, a sweet, searing flood that stole her breath and distracted her from every other thought. She swayed, growing dizzy as light flashed before her eyes and the wound closed in a rush. She could feel herself going wet, ready. Her gaze dropped to his cock again.

  I want him. I don’t care what he is. I want him.

  So why not take him? Heat rolled through her in dark, creamy waves. If he’s what he seems, what can it hurt? And if he’s not, he’ll think he’s got me fooled. And I’ll have the advantage.

  As her father always said, you had to outthink the bastards if you wanted to win. Find their weaknesses, and exploit them.

  And looking into his hungry green eyes, Riane suspected she’d just found Nick’s.

  Her thigh felt warm and firm and deliciously smooth under Nick’s hand, the injury healing in a rush as it responded to his power. His heart beat hard, the thick pulse in his cock echoing its demanding thump. His mouth was dry as sand with need.

  And he could smell her arousal, every bit as potent as his own. In this position, her softly curled red bush was at his eye level, temptingly close. He wanted to bury his face between those luscious thighs, taste and lick.

  With any other woman, he’d have quickly produced sweatpants and a shirt, then hustled her out the door as soon as he had her healed. No civilian, after all, had any business in the crosshairs with him.

  But Riane Arvid was not a civilian. She was a warrior with powers every bit as exotic as his own, just as willing—and able—to fight.

  Still, he didn’t want either of them mindlessly swept up in a passion they later regretted. Nick rose to his feet and met her gaze. “Do you want to get dressed?” His voice sounded embarrassingly hoarse.

  Her hot eyes met his. “No. No, in fact, I want you naked.”

  The cool, steady admission stole his breath. Without another word, he reached for his zipper.

  Riane watched, breath held, as Nick unzipped his jeans, toed off his boots, and peeled his pants down brawny thighs. As he kicked them aside, he rose to his full height and met her gaze.

  For a long moment, they stared silently at each other, enjoying the mutual rise of heat. Riane was no stranger to beautiful bodies—Enforcers were genetically engineered for physical perfection.

  Yet there was a tough, lean elegance about Nick that appealed to her. He was broad-shouldered, long of arm and leg, with big, calloused hands and brawny feet. Dark hair dusted his wide chest and trailed its way down his muscled belly, fluffing around the thick organ that angled up from his groin. She eyed it, thoroughly approving its plump, rosy head and long, veined shaft. His balls were round and heavy, drawn tight with his arousal.

  Unable to resist, Riane reached out and wrapped her fingers around his cock. It bucked in her hand, a jolt of delight, the skin like hot velvet. The thought flashed through her mind again: He’s Xeran . . .

  And she found she no longer cared. There was absolutely no calculation in those deep green eyes, no sense of hidden plots or secret agendas. He was a man, and she was a woman, and that was all that mattered to either of them.

  Riane purred in approval and tugged gently, drawing him closer.

  Nick chuckled, a pleasant male rumble of sound. “Demanding wench, aren’t you?” His hands came to rest on her hips, warm and a little rough.

  “Life is short in my line of work,” she told him, smiling up into his eyes. “I don’t believe in wasting time.”

  “Really?” Long fingers traced their way up her ribs to cup her breasts. “Personally, I like to take my time.”

  Lowering his head, he found her mouth with his.

  • 7 •

  It was a slow, lazy kiss, a thorough exploration of tongue, lips, and teeth that made Riane moan with pleasure deep in her throat. He tasted minty and hot and very male. As Nick pulled her in close, she reached up to wrap her arms around his neck, enjoying the hard, muscular heat of his body. It had been a very long time for her, so long she had trouble remembering when last she’d sought a man’s arms.

  His hands made a leisurely exploration of her ass, cupping her curves, tracing up her back along the sensitive geography of muscle and bone. And still he kissed her, deep and hungry.

  When he finally drew away, they were both out of breath as they hadn’t been from the battle with Ivar. Her heart was pounding in eager thumps, and she smiled up at him, loving the sensation. He reached up to cradle her face in his hands, a sweet and tender gesture. His thumb traced the lower edges of her tattoo. “This is beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

  Riane gave him another smile, though she knew his twenty-first-century standards were low. “So are you.” She meant every word; he might not be genetically engineered, but there was a rough beauty to his chiseled features and gleaming hair.

  Nick trailed one hand down to take hers, drew her after him down the short hallway. Toward the bedroom. The band around his upper arm cast a bright, dancing light as they went. Tiny sparks bounced around them both like fireflies. Under other circumstances, she’d have wondered what energies the Stone was producing, maybe done a scan. At the moment, she was far more interested in the long, beautiful wedge of his back and the way his glutes shifted as he moved. His legs were powerful, dusted in dark hair, arousing and very male.

  As they walked into his room, an array of candles burst into flame on top of the small oak bureau. A floor-to-ceiling bookcase stood on the opposite side of the room, where a wisp of smoke curled up from a golden ball studded with tiny square holes. It smelled of some faintly woody, exotic spice she couldn’t identify.

  “I meditate,” Nick said, as if by way of explanation. “The incense and candles help.”

  “I like it,” Riane decided, looking around the room. His bed dominated the space, a sprawling structure in blond oak covered in a thick forest green spread embroidered with a curling pattern of leaves.

  Nick pulled her toward the bed, the eager jut of his cock angled upward in lusty promise. Riane eyed it. “That’s really tempting.” She trailed her fingers along the sensitive shaft, which bounced a little under her hand. He stiffened, lips parting, eyes darkening.

  Unable to resist, Riane dropped to one knee and bent in for a sampling taste. Against her tongue the skin felt like velvet o
ver a core of heated steel, and he smelled deliciously like sex and clean male effort. A drop of pre-cum flavored the tip of the shaft, tangy and a little bitter. She licked it away, then wrapped her fingers around his width and engulfed him for a slow, teasing suckle.

  Nick threw back his head at the amazing sensation of her wet, soft mouth closing around his cock. Her graceful hands stroked him, cupping his balls in long fingers, spinning delicious curls of heat through his belly. Her tongue flicked over the head, swirled, teased the tiny opening until his every nerve quivered in delight.

  “God,” Nick rasped, “that feels so damned good. But I want to touch you.” He caught her shoulders.

  She gave him a wicked grin and allowed him to draw her to her feet. “If you insist.”

  Nick bent, caught Riane behind the thighs and across the back and swept her into his arms, then strode to the bed with her. Riane gave him a slow smile as he lowered her to the mattress. She stretched seductively, a long feline extension of her lean body. His mouth went dry at the sight of those lovely, pink-tipped breasts, the beautiful legs, so endless and strong, with that neat little russet nest between them.

  He slid a knee onto the bed and braced himself on his arms as he bent for her lush, curving mouth. Her lips felt exquisitely soft as they opened under his. Her tongue slipped into his mouth, stroked, teased. Nick moaned in pleasure and drew her hard against him. She arched, wrapped her legs around his waist, and his head spun at the sensation of lush, smooth skin, the erotic scent of a woman in need.

  With a hungry growl, he sought out her breasts.

  Pleasure swirled in liquid delight through Riane’s body, in time to every flick of his tongue. Her hands caught his head, threaded through his thick, dark hair, long and silken under her palms. Teeth raked, and she shivered.

  Slowly, he started working his way down her body, spinning spells of pleasure with clever, calloused hands and wicked mouth. She sat up on her elbows to watch his progress, letting herself enjoy his luscious attentions. Her eyes widened.

  Sparks jumped and swirled around his armband, then rained down on her skin like fireworks. A quiver of unease stole down her spine.

  What were those sparks doing?

  Nick nuzzled his way between Riane’s thighs and began to lick. Heated to a roiling boil by a combination of riaat and his sizzling attentions, Riane’s body overrode her wariness. She threw back her head and arched at the searing pleasure.

  Hunger roared high, too fierce and demanding for even a pretense at passivity. She reared under him, grabbed him by his brawny shoulders. He was kneeling by the bed, but his weight was nothing to her genetically engineered strength. Riane flipped him onto the bed and pounced. Grabbing his cock, she angled up the strong, thick shaft and slung a leg over his hips.

  “Wait!” he gasped. “Let me put on a condom . . .”

  “Don’t need it,” she growled. “I won’t get pregnant, and my nanobots kill any bug I’m exposed to. We’re both safe.” Without waiting for further argument, she impaled herself in a sweet, delicious rush.

  Riane caught her breath at the sensation of his shaft, so broad, so long. Almost too much after so many months between lovers, filling her more full than she could ever remember being filled. But he’d made her slick and eager, and she didn’t wait long before she was moving, almost gently at first, a slow and teasing jog.

  “God,” he breathed. “You’re tiny!”

  She grinned, eyes shuttered. “You’re not.”

  “So I’ve heard.” He gave her a deliberately cheeky grin in return, but it faded into a touch of anxiety. “Not too much?”

  Riane planted her palms on his belly and rotated her hips. “I think I can rise to the occasion. I’m tough.”

  His hands clamped around her hips, holding her still as his gaze searched hers. “I’m serious. If it’s too much, there are other things we can do.”

  Riane blinked down at him in surprise. “You sound like a Warlord.”

  His head rocked back, and he looked rather offended. “A what?”

  “The men of my people. Warlords. They are . . .” She searched for the English word. “Chivalrous like that.” Rising to her knees, she slid downward, sighing in pleasure at the way he filled her. “But I don’t need your chivalry.” Riane smiled down at him like a cat. “I just need this big, delicious cock.”

  God, Nick loved the way her mouth looked, shaping that word. He’d never met a woman like her, so bold, so incredibly strong. A match for him in every sense.

  She gripped him like a slick, tender vise, her breasts bouncing as she rose and fell. Long thighs worked, all smooth skin and rippling muscle as she braced her hands on his belly. No centerfold could ever look so beautiful in his eyes, so strong, yet quintessentially female. His heart hammered as he watched his cock slide in and out of her pink, fragile lips.

  Nick shuddered, loving the dizzying rise of pleasure that spiked higher with every stroke, loving the sight of her riding him like a Valkyrie, red hair whipping around her shoulders as she rose and fell. Heat surged in him, a ferocious need, and suddenly it was no longer enough to be ridden. His hands caught her waist, rolled her over. She laughed in delight as her back hit the mattress.

  He rose over her with a growl. “My turn!”

  “Fine, you do the work.” Laughing, she wrapped her long legs around his waist as he positioned himself.

  His initial stroke drove so deep they both gasped. Hungry for more, he braced his arms beside her head and began to drive.

  The first molten wave of orgasm made Nick grit his teeth and fight to keep from coming too soon. He looked down into her face.

  Riane gasped, eyes wide and blazing that bright, glowing red. The glow should have looked alien, a little threatening, yet on her it was simply exotic, another mark of her delightful differences, like the tattoo that adorned her face. Her legs tightened around his waist, and she began to lift herself into his hips, grinding hard. His other senses told him she quivered on the edge of climax. So he let go, plunging hard, giving her what she needed. What they both craved so ferociously.

  Fire exploded from his balls, a blazing fountain of delight that seared its way up his spine. He bellowed, the raw male sound mixing with Riane’s scream of climax.

  Panting, sweating hard, Nick collapsed beside her. “God, that was amazing.”

  “Mmm,” Riane agreed, then blinked at the sated purr in her own voice. Xeran or not, the man knew his way around a woman’s body. And he didn’t mind giving her what she needed.

  She frowned. None of that sounded like what she’d come to know about those bastards. He should have been selfish, taking his pleasure and letting her find hers only if she could. Figuring she didn’t deserve it if she couldn’t.

  Nick reached over to draw her gently into his arms. Also out of character. Still, he felt damned good, though her riaat-induced hunger had passed off. She lay her head down on his broad chest and listened to his heartbeat slow. In minutes, he was asleep.

  Awfully trusting for a Xeran killer.

  It was impossible to feel properly paranoid lying in sated bliss beside a handsome, thorough lover. Especially one who slept as bonelessly as a boy.

  Riane sighed and put aside her distrust as she stared into the darkness. Her thoughts drifted to Frieka.

  Poor wolf. He was probably going out of his mind with worry. She stirred, wishing there was some way she could let him know she was all right. Frieka had always had a fatherly streak, carefully hidden beneath bad jokes and bluster.

  She had to get the hell back to the Outpost. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a damned thing she could do about it right now.

  Putting aside her various worries, Riane let herself drift off to sleep.

  • 8 •

  “Riane!” Frieka called, his voice spiraling perilously near a howl. He felt sick, a little woozy, and he cursed his T-collar. It didn’t offer as much protection during a Temporal Jump as his full T-suit, but he hated wearing the suit. It was uncomforta
ble, and it looked stupid.

  But he’d be willing to endure that to find Riane.

  “She’s not here, Frieka,” Dyami said gently, one big hand falling on the wolf’s head. “We’ve lost her.”

  “One more Jump, Boss.” He knew he was begging, but he didn’t give a damn. “We can go back to her last location, and I can recalculate. I know I can triangulate where she went if I try one more time . . .”

  They’d successfully followed her through three Jumps, calculating her next destination based on the residual power left behind. Thing was, that only gave them a rough radius in time and space. She could be at any point along that vast temporal circle. Landing at just the right spot to find her would be a matter of dumb luck.

  They’d guessed wrong every time since.

  Dyami sighed and dropped to one knee beside him, the better to look into his eyes. “Your collar doesn’t have enough charge to keep Jumping like this. It’s time to go home. Maybe one of the other teams will find her.” The Chief had sent out every spare agent he had on the search.

  Frieka turned to look out across the darkened medieval street—to meet the wide, terrified eyes of a man in the ragged garb of a peasant. The man made a forking gesture the wolf recognized as a sign against evil, then sprinted off, yelling about demons.

  Frieka felt too discouraged to care. “She’s trapped in time, Boss. That’s what all those Jumps were designed to do—burn all the power out of her suit. She’s stuck somewhere. Alone.”

  “Yeah.” Dyami rose to his feet. “Probably. But at least she’s alive. If they’d really meant to kill her, they’d have programmed the suit to self-destruct. Or materialize her in the caldera of a volcano.”

  “Hey, thanks,” Frieka muttered. “A whole new nightmare for me to enjoy.”

  “Cut that out,” Dyami said sternly. “Riane’s young, but she’s tough, intelligent, and gutsy. She can handle whatever they throw at her. And she’s smart enough to figure out how to leave a clue in the historical record for us to find. All we have to do is look.”