WarlordsBounty

by Cynthia Sax

  Tomorrow, I’ll treat her callously. Tonight, I’ll love her.

  Khan climbed onto the bed and wrapped his arms around his small human female. She mumbled words he didn’t understand and wiggled into his reclining form, grinding her ass into his hard cock.

  He gritted his teeth, his arousal uncomfortably intense, his balls aching. Zeta squirmed, becoming more and more agitated, her smooth skin brushing against his muscle, her full body caresses torturing, tormenting him.

  “I need to be inside you.” Khan wedged his legs between hers, spreading her open, and he pushed his cock into her wet pussy, her heat welcoming him. He buried himself balls-deep and shuddered with satisfaction, spilling his seed quickly, silently, selfishly.

  “Khan.” Zeta covered his hands, her palms soft against his scarred knuckles, and he entwined his fingers with hers. “Yes,” she sighed and stilled, a small smile curling her lips as though she’d needed him as much as he’d needed her.

  “Yes,” Khan agreed, the connection between them good and right and strong. He gazed with wonder and reverence at her sleeping face, warmth spreading up his stomach and across his chest.

  “Berke claims human females are incapable of loyalty,” he murmured, unaware that his brother had any dealings with human females. “Yet I trust you.” Khan inhaled the fresh air scent of Zeta’s hair, the soft tendrils flowing over his shoulders, mixing with his. “And I can only hope when all of this is done, you’ll still trust me.”

  Chapter Five

  “I don’t want your rations.” Khan glared at her, his mood over the past two days growing progressively worse. He sat in the first officer’s chair, clad only in a white drying cloth, the strip of fabric covering him from waist to thigh. His warrior garment and his weapons had been safely locked in a wall panel in their shared sleeping chamber, a precaution Zeta had taken should he change his mind about complying with his imprisonment. “I’d rather starve than eat that flavorless muck.”

  “Then starve.” Zeta tossed the platter onto the console in front of him and strode away, having prepared the best of her limited selection for him.

  “As you will,” he murmured.

  “What?” She pivoted on her booted heels and stared at him.

  “I glanced into the eating chamber as we passed.” He met her gaze, his face dark with a fury she didn’t understand. “You don’t have enough rations for the voyage home.”

  “You don’t know what I have,” she bluffed, his calculations correct.

  “I do know. Contact the client, Zeta.” His voice softened. “You need to collect the bounty on me or you won’t eat.”

  “I don’t have to contact the client. I’ve sent a message to your warrior friend Oghul. Your brothers will pay your bounty,” she shared, pleased with her solution. They’ll pay his bounty, the school will have the credits and Khan won’t be harmed.

  Khan’s mouth opened and shut and opened again. “They won’t pay the bounty.”

  “They will,” Zeta insisted, tossing herself into the captain’s chair, the leather fitted to her body. “They love you and that’s what families do…or so I hear.”

  He examined the beams crisscrossing the bridge’s ceiling. She tapped on her tablet, ensuring their communications channel remained open in case his brothers finally returned her message, vividly aware of Khan’s scent, his presence, his everything.

  I need him. She hugged that scary truth close to her chest.

  “My brothers won’t pay the bounty,” Khan finally stated. “Because it’s not part of the plan.”

  “What?” she shouted, fear escalating her rage, only ten days remaining before the lease had to be paid, the school running out of time and options.

  “If you want to eat, contact the client,” he continued as though he hadn’t heard her.

  “Forget about eating. The bounty isn’t about eating.” Zeta brought Lisa’s image up on the viewscreen, the brown-haired, freckle-faced girl the same age she had been when she’d been orphaned, the same lost expression in her big brown eyes.

  “This is why I need to collect on your bounty.” She jumped out of her seat and flung her hands at the image. “If I fail to earn those credits, Lisa, along with one hundred and six other girls, will be returned to the streets where we found them, forced to do anything to survive, alone, easy prey for any predator.”

  Zeta turned her back to Khan, staring at the far wall, unable to face that future, to face her failure, to face him. “I won’t fail them. Tell your brothers the plan has changed.”

  “Come here, gerel.”

  “Give me their contact information or you can contact them yourself.” Hope blossomed inside her. “That might be more effective. They’ll know you’re alive and—”

  “Come here,” he boomed, his tone allowing for no refusal.

  “I’m coming because I want to come,” she informed him as she moved to his side. “You need me to access the system.” She stared at his square chin.

  “I don’t need to access the system.” His voice rolled over her. “I’m not changing the plan and you aren’t failing those girls. You’re collecting the bounty on me. That is the most feasible solution and you know it.”

  It is the most feasible solution. Zeta frowned, unwilling to accept that fate. “I won’t—”

  “No.” Khan grabbed her face with one big hand, his grip harsh and painful and exciting. She raised her gaze, meeting his, and her pussy moistened, his eyes black and unrelenting. “You will. No arguing and no talking.”

  He whipped away the drying cloth, his cock hard. “Use that mouth for something productive, little hunter. Suck on me.”

  “Suck your own cock.” Her thighs trembled.

  “On your knees,” Khan barked.

  Zeta kneeled, responding instinctively to his voice, a female submitting to a more dominant male. She glared up at him and his lips twitched, his eyes glowing.

  “Suck.” He grabbed her hair and pushed her face into his lap. She opened her mouth, forced to take him, his cock head sliding past her lips and over her tongue, filling her mouth.

  Khan’s tip tickled the back of her throat and he stopped, holding her down, his base remaining untouched. She wrapped her fingers around his excess shaft and she sucked, her cheeks indenting around him, his scent teasing her nostrils.

  “Yes,” he groaned. “Suck me hard, gerel.” He spread his legs wider, his right foot shackled to the chair. “Rut on me with that filthy mouth of yours.” He pulled on her hair, raising her lips, pain shooting over her scalp and down her spine.

  She laved his shaft with her tongue and flicked his rim and he pressed down once more, his fingers twisting in her curls. Khan guided her up and down his shaft, Zeta obeying him, embracing her punishment, embracing him.

  I need this. She pursed her lips around his cock, creating a tighter seal and more arousing friction. I need him. Zeta shook, her pussy juices running down her thighs, wetting her flight suit, her musk scenting the air. Oh stars. How I need him.

  She palmed his balls and squeezed them gently. Khan inhaled sharply, yanking on her hair, the sweet agony her reward. This time, it’ll be different. Zeta dragged her fingernails over the sensitive skin between his balls and asshole, and his feet kicked out, rattling his restraints.

  I’ll protect him. She traced the vein running underneath his shaft with her tongue, maintaining her suction. He won’t leave me and he won’t die.

  “So right,” Khan huffed, his chest heaving, his face flushed. “You’re so right for me.” Zeta rode his thrusts, his rhythm fast and hard. “Fierce and wet and hot.” His fingers tangled in her hair. “I want to bond with your mouth.” His base expanded, the band of flesh solidifying.

  No way. She narrowed her eyes, his grip on her head holding her to him. He’ll blow out my throat. Zeta slapped his thigh.

  His gaze lowered to meet hers, his eyes feverously bright. “I’d never hurt you, gerel.” He released her. “Stick out your tongue.” He yanked on his shaft with a
viciousness that made Zeta wince.

  She extended her tongue, waiting impatiently, trusting him not to hurt her, her pussy throbbing and her nipples tight. Khan stroked himself, lines etched around his mouth and between his black eyebrows.

  Zeta reached out and grabbed his balls. He jerked forward, his cock head sliding along her tongue, and hot jets of cum shot into her mouth, rushing down her throat, making her senses sing, his taste as wild and raw as he was.

  His seed hit her stomach and she screamed, a euphoria bursting inside her. Her pussy clenched down on nothing, her body shook, and she opened her mouth wider, greedily catching all of his seed, needing more, more, more, addicted to his high.

  As their orgasms eased, he cupped her head, pulling her onto him, and Zeta gently sucked his softening cock, licking him clean, swallowing every last magical drop.

  “What was that?” She sat back on her heels, dazed and docile.

  “Pure pleasure.” Khan brushed the hair away from her face. “A pleasure that can only be found with me.”

  Only with him. Zeta met his gaze, his eyes soft and shining, and her heart squeezed. “Yet you want me to trade you for credits.” She pushed to her feet, her legs stiff, his cum warming her stomach. “I won’t do that. I—”

  “An unknown warship has entered the sector, Captain,” the ship’s guidance system informed them, its voice curt and robotic. A sleek black vessel dominated the viewscreen, no markings on its bow.

  Zeta scrambled to her seat, fear scattering the last remnants of passion. “Is that one of yours?”

  “Not any longer.” Khan glowered at the warship, his expression frighteningly hard, and he wrapped the drying cloth around his torso. Preparing for battle.

  “The warship is requesting we open hailing frequencies, Captain.”

  Requesting? Do I have a choice? Zeta’s stomach twisted, her ship slower and outgunned. “Open hailing frequencies.”

  “Video and audio link established,” the ship responded.

  A scarred face projected onto the viewscreen, the male’s eyes as black as Khan’s, his coloring remarkably similar. “I’ve come for the fugitive Khan,” he demanded, forgoing communications protocol, his voice brusque. “Prepare to be docked.”

  “Wait!” Zeta muted the audio, and turned to Khan. “Friend or foe?”

  “Foe,” he growled, his fingers curled into huge fists. “Tolui is no friend to any Chamele. He attacks our planets, kidnapping our females and children. That ship he’s using is one of ours, stolen early this season.”

  “Foe then, definitely foe.” She chewed on the inside of her cheek, her palms moist. “He must be a client. How did he know I had you?” Zeta shook her head. “I’ll worry about that later.” She released the audio. “You’re mistaken, captain. There’s no Khan on board this ship,” she bluffed, perspiration trickling down her spine.

  The warrior tapped his screen. “My scans indicate you have two life forms on board your ship. Give me visual of the second life form.”

  He knows I have Khan and he wants him dead. If we run, he’ll blow us both up.

  Zeta took a deep breath. I’m a bounty hunter. Be a bounty hunter.

  “Do you have the credits?” She stared straight ahead, at the screen, unable to look at Khan, to see the pain her words had inflicted. “I require payment before the fugitive is transferred.”

  A sinister smile stretched across Tolui’s face, his black eyes promising cruelty and death. “I have the credits, little hunter.”

  Little hunter. She twitched, the only male having ever used that endearment being Khan, her fugitive, her love. Stars. My love.

  “I’ll prepare the ship for boarding.” She forced her reply. “Transmission ended.” The viewscreen returned to the image of the warship, the threat looming before them, large and very, very real.

  “There’s little time.” Zeta rushed to Khan’s chair, bent over and released his restraints. “Come with me.” She grabbed his arm, urging him to his feet. “We have to do this quickly.”

  “Zeta.”

  “Not now. Trust me.” She ran down the corridor, the lights flickering to life, Khan following her closely, his warm breath on her neck, reassuring proof that he lived. He’ll continue to live. Her heart pounded and her lungs ached. I’ll protect him.

  Zeta skidded to a stop in front of the escape pod and accessed the panel, her fingers shaking. This has to work. The doors slid open. “Get inside. I’ll time the pod to detach in a few minutes.” She fumbled with the system, her fingertips clumsy. “Once I’m certain he’s on board.”

  “Zeta, what are you doing?” Khan, the only male she had ever cared for, stood stubbornly beside her, holding his drying cloth in place with one big hand, his forehead wrinkled.

  “I’m saving you. I’ve seen that look on client’s faces before, Khan. Tolui won’t give you an opportunity to escape.” She pushed on Khan’s shoulders, his skin hot and smooth against her fingers. “He wants you dead. You leave now.” Zeta nodded at the pod. “And I’ll hold him off.” She extracted one of her guns.

  “No.” Khan twisted the gun from her hands, his movements unfettered, his restraints removed. “You’re not protecting me this time.” He pointed the weapon at her, his lips flat and his eyes hard. “You get in the pod.” He extended the claws on his free hand, raked them over her holster, and slung the leather over his shoulder. “Now,” he barked.

  Zeta stepped backward, confused. “You don’t understand. He plans to kill you.”

  “And you don’t understand.” Khan shoved her deeper into the pod. “I plan to kill him.” He slapped the control panel and the door closed, locking her in. “Trust me, gerel.” He placed his palm on the porthole.

  “Trust you?” She hammered the door with her fists, furious with him and terrified for him. “Release me, Khan, or when I get free, I swear I’ll shoot those big balls of yours right off!”

  His laughter trailed behind him as he stalked down the corridor, leaving Zeta trapped in her own escape pod.

  * * * * *

  “There’s no risk.” Khan shot the locks off the sleeping chamber’s wall panel and it slid open, revealing his clothing neatly folded and his weapons arranged by size. He grinned, Zeta’s feeble attempts to hinder his escape adorable, the care she’d taken with his things more telling than any confession of love. “As I suspected, Berke knows nothing about human females.”

  He dressed quickly, strapping his sword to his back and slinging his long gun over one of his shoulders, conscious that it would take mere minutes for his clever gerel to override the escape pod’s locked door. Booms echoed down the corridor, his Chamele rival equally impetuous, not waiting for an invitation to board Zeta’s ship.

  “And Tolui knows nothing about stealth.” Khan ran toward the sound, his fingers tightening around one of Zeta’s small guns, savoring that connection to her. The metallic door dented inward, pounded by bullets, the same door Khan had easily torn off with his claws.

  “Why is Tolui using guns?” Khan wrinkled his nose in disgust, a Chamele warrior’s natural weapons quieter and more effective. “Has he forgotten, in his exile, how to be a Chamele?”

  The door blasted into the corridor, metal clanging against metal, and Khan ducked into an alcove, hiding from direct view, deeming not to fade into the surrounding walls, his invisibility, as Zeta called it, ineffective with other Chamele warriors. He waited, his blood pumping through his veins, one of his fingers resting on the gun’s trigger, ready to wreak sweet revenge on his enemy.

  The big male rolled through the open doorway, wearing black leather warrior garments, guns in both of his hands. Tolui huddled behind the damaged door and scanned his surroundings through the bulletproof porthole.

  Khan tensed, prepared to return fire, his muscles coiling in anticipation. Tolui’s gaze flicked over his hiding place, no telling hesitation as he turned his head, no glimmer of awareness lighting the warrior’s dark eyes.

  I’m a Chamele. He should sense me. Khan
frowned, suppressing his primal instinct to engage, fight and kill. Something is wrong, terribly wrong. He watched, studying his enemy, searching for an explanation.

  Tolui cocked his head and tapped his ear with his index finger, as though he waited for instructions. It was an action the rash Warlord would never take, Berke’s previous attempts at peace talks abruptly dismissed.

  Tolui’s broad forehead creased with lines and he nodded, staring blankly ahead of him, as though his target wasn’t standing to his left. Whom is he communicating with? Khan followed his line of sight, seeing no one, the silver wall panels reflecting his form.

  The planet-less Warlord surveyed the otherwise empty corridor once more, slowly, thoroughly, his guns cocked, ready for an attack. Khan braced himself for battle, his adrenaline flowing. Tolui’s gaze swept by the alcove, the warrior oblivious to his presence.

  He can’t sense me. Why? Khan examined his enemy closely, searching for any visual clues. While Tolui’s angular profile belonged to a Chamele warrior, his coloring was a faded copy, his black hair not reflecting the light, his natural tan washed out.

  Copy. Khan stiffened, the explanation hit him harder than a punch to his stomach. Clone. “You’re not Tolui.”

  The warrior released a barrage of shots, the bullets peppering the panel Khan hid behind, pinging off the tough surface. Khan pressed his body against the hidden supply chamber door, waiting for a break in the gunfire, requiring more answers, those answers needed to protect his people, to protect Zeta.

  “No, I’m not Tolui.” The male ripped a device out of his ear and threw it to the floor, the metal bouncing along the wire mesh. “My name is Seven. The master suspected this was a trick and sent me in his place.”

  “He sent a clone.” Tolui has gone too far this time, breaking too many of our laws. Khan pressed his lips together, cloning forbidden for all Chameles, that ruling set by his late father.

  Empty cartridges clattered to the floor as Seven quickly, methodically reloaded, the male exhibiting a smoothness of movement gained only through experience.

  “Not a clone,” Seven clarified, the bitterness edging his voice surprising Khan, harsh emotions rare in manufactured beings. “I’m a clone of a clone.”