by Marie Harte
“Yeah?”
“I’ll be in the conditioning room should you need me.”
“Lucky you,” Rafe muttered. “I’ll talk to you later. Keep yourself out of sight and out of mind if you can help it.”
“Can do.” Willingly. “Temis out.”
She turned away from the direction Sernal headed and approached the conditioning room. Once there, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to fight against someone with Gren’s skills. Oddly enough, the challenge appealed to her, on several levels.
Scowling at her wayward thoughts, she gladly accepted the physical discipline that had thus far served her well in life. As she struggled to attain fighting perfection, she also fought an inner battle not to think of Gren, of his battered body, of what he must be feeling in the narrow holding cell directly below her room.
Chapter Three
Her workout refreshed her. A call to Rafe ensured her to stay in her room, away from the common areas. Because of the visitors on board, talk of the mission remained unsaid. Rafe asked her to meet him first thing in the morning in his room, where Sernal would be waiting with new plans. Until that time, Temis planned to rest both her mind and body.
She undressed and slid beneath the sheets of her narrow bed, and just as easily slid into sleep.
Comforted by her earlier workout, her mind readily grasped the familiar dream of her home world.
Zeyr’s lavender skies faded into dark black. Stars shone like beacons around the planet’s brightly glowing moon. The sound of grunts and thuds mingled with the scents of clean sweat and tangy blood, and she smiled at the memories of her upbringing.
Chula, Zeyr’s most famous training ground, had given birth to the warrior within her. In sleep, Chula continued to reward her, giving her the peace she needed to combat the fatigue of her day.
Controlling the dream, Temis nodded to her father and master trainer who suddenly appeared, then accepted the hack-staff that materialised at her feet. A faceless opponent shimmered into existence, and for the next few hours she managed her dream, fighting with passion and the determination to succeed.
Reliving her training refreshed her, as it always did. The sweat slid down her body, washing away the mental grime and exhaustion from the day.
Garbed in a slim loincloth and protective breastplate made of rakhide, Temis relaxed in the warmth of home, so unlike the cooler climate in space travel. Chula’s heat comforted rather than oppressed as she fought man after man.
She gradually relinquished her hold on the dream as true slumber began to overtake her. Darkness settled over Chula. Her father and the others disappeared and her world shimmered…until a thin light illuminated something new, something alien.
Temis blinked sleepily at the evolution of an unfamiliar world. In the span of a heartbeat, three moons hung suspended in an indigo sky, illuminating a perfectly round dirt ring surrounded by tropical forests. To her immediate left, an inviting pool of water appeared.
Interest in her new surroundings revived her, and her awareness returned as she found herself holding her hack-staff again, her training clothes fresh but much too thin for the cool temperatures of this strange world.
“Where am I?”
“You’ve come to fight, have you not?” a familiar voice called from the darkness in the forest.
Gren.
He appeared uninjured, as if his fight earlier with the peacemakers hadn’t happened. Wearing only the swimming trousers she’d first seen him in, he walked lazily towards her, like a cat stalking its prey.
He stopped in front of her and smiled. His stare lingered over her breasts and thighs before returning to meet her confused gaze. “You like to fight.”
She nodded. “But where am I?”
“In a dream.”
“But I command my dreams. This isn’t Zeyr.”
Gren’s left eyebrow rose, an arrogant gesture that irritated her. He crossed his arms, his biceps bulging. “We stand in a fighting ring. What now, sura?”
She wasn’t sure what ‘sura’ meant, but on Gren’s lips it sounded suspiciously like an endearment. Did he dare dismiss her as some piece of fluff on fighting grounds?
“Now we fight.”
He grinned, and the curl of his lips caused her heart to flutter. A curious heat pooled in her loins, and to her horror she found herself fixated on the fullness of his mouth.
“If it’s a fight you want, I’ll be happy to oblige,” he murmured. “Hand to hand?”
Imagining Gren’s hands all over her made her flush. She shook her head. “Blunt weaponry.”
She didn’t understand why Gren appeared in her dream but decided to accept his presence. Since meeting him she’d been unable to strike the imposing man from her thoughts. Perhaps her subconscious sensed this and chose to confront the source of her recent fascination head-on.
He flexed his arms, showcasing muscular perfection. “I like risks, but if it’s practice you want, I accept. Winner chooses the prize.”
She frowned. “But you could demand anything.”
“And I will when I win.” He winked.
The condescending gesture stirred her irritation to anger. Anticipating the heady blow to his ego, she imagined him defeated by her hand. She taunted him with a superior sneer and was rewarded by a fire in his eyes.
A long, gnarled staff suddenly appeared in his hands. He bowed then waited for her to attack.
Her blood pumped with excitement, a feeling that owed as much to anticipation of the fight as it did to Gren’s presence. She feigned a thrust and struck at his left knee.
Gren dodged her and stepped back. He waited.
She lunged again and again, each time narrowly missing her aim. Gren continued to evade but he never struck back. She had the uneasy feeling he was toying with her.
“Engage, damn it.” She glared, wanting him to do more than parry.
“As you wish, sura.” He gave a throaty chuckle. “But don’t be too angry when you lay flat beneath the victor.”
His arrogance chafed and had the effect he’d intended. Caught in frustrated anger, Temis nearly missed the signs preceding his attack. Like a whirlwind of fury, he struck, catching first her knee then her lower back. Off balance, she rolled quickly to her left and managed to avoid a paralyzing blow to the shoulder.
Returning the attack, she swept at his feet. Her staff took his ankle out from under him. While he recovered, she regained her footing and regarded him warily.
He gave every appearance of being a defensive opponent, but he’d clearly demonstrated his true nature, that of a deadly predator with unusually sharp reflexes.
She crouched low and held her staff against her body, shielding her chest. He stood with his own staff in one hand, a large grin on his face.
“Sura, I like the way you fight. But my patience is wearing. Come, let’s end this.”
Before Temis could blink, she found herself flat on her back, breathless from the speed of his attack. He straddled her, his staff positioned just under her chin. Had he wished, he could easily snap her neck.
What in blazes had just happened? She stared at him in astonishment. Gren didn’t even breathe hard. His chest rose and fell evenly while his powerful thighs held her tightly within his grasp.
“My victory, sura,” he purred and tossed his staff aside. “Now my prize.”
“Get off me, you oaf.” She pounded legs as hard as steel, mortified at having been beaten so quickly.
His knees tightened around her body in warning, and he regarded her with an unreadable expression. Much as she wanted to deny it, his victory thrilled her. Temis had never been drawn to the weak. A man like Gren, handsome, aloof and powerful, made her heart hammer despite her mind’s protests. That he had beaten her with ease only added to his appeal.
The sheer strength he possessed stoked her desire. She felt the force in his thighs, saw the restrained power in the corded muscles of his arms and chest. Her gaze travelled again to his thighs, to the ju
ncture between them. His erection strained at his short trousers, the heat of his arousal igniting a new passion in her own.
She wondered at his thoughts when his eyes darkened to almost black, sparks of green energy licking at her womb. He licked his lips, and any regret at losing fell away under a wave of lust so powerful she felt helpless to resist.
Just as suddenly, the voracious need faded. Gren’s eyes still looked impossibly dark, but not as intense.
“This is much better,” he murmured and placed a large, callused palm over her naked breast.
Temis gasped. “Where—” Her breath left her when his fingers rolled her nipple. Helpless to look away from his face, she saw her desire mirrored in his gaze. “Wh-where are my clothes?”
He leant forward, grinding his erection between them. His lips brushed her ear. “In my dreams you wear nothing.” His tongue flicked along the shell of her ear before plunging deep.
Moisture pooled between her thighs. She tensed and chafed at his legs that kept her still. By Narok’s breast, she needed to move, to ease the ache building within her sex.
“Soon, love. I’m going to give you what you’ve been begging for since I first saw you.”
His arrogance knew no bounds. Despite her desire, Temis rebelled. “When I get free you’re going to pay for this.” She struggled against his hold and soon found herself unable to move.
Gren rose to his feet, giving her the perfect opportunity for a well-placed kick. But her entire body was bound by an invisible force.
“Wider,” Gren ordered. That unseen force spread her legs wide before securing them once again to the ground. “Beautiful,” Gren whispered as he knelt between her legs.
He gave her no warning before he buried his face in the soft, smooth flesh between her thighs.
She cried out at the sudden onslaught of feeling that burst within her. Never before had she been touched so intimately. His lips, so gentle in their exploration, created a fire that soon had her trembling.
“Like honeyed wine,” he murmured and opened his mouth. He licked at her desire, sliding his tongue along her clit and between her folds as if enjoying a great feast.
Temis couldn’t help her moans. An unfamiliar need built until she was consumed by it. “Gren, release me!” she cried out and thrashed her head from side to side.
“Not yet, sura.” He lifted his head to stare into her eyes. His lips shone with her need, and his eyes glittered brightly, two gems of light in the darkness covering them both. “Not until I’ve had my fill.”
He resumed his place between her legs, but this time he added his able hands to her torment. While his mouth worked her sex, stroking her clitoris, nipping with stinging bites that enhanced her pleasure immeasurably, his hands roamed along her thighs.
Squeezing and caressing, he petted her muscled thighs as if committing the feel to memory. He continued to tease her by moving his hands up her legs, only to shift away, driving her crazy.
Desire spiralled inside her, making the emptiness in her womb all the more apparent, despite his mouth. Though not ignorant of lovemaking, Temis had never before had so much experience. A few stolen kisses, some groping hands. But never such intimacies with another.
Yet she knew what she needed. She needed Gren, to feel him fully within her. She wanted desperately to feel his heavy arousal deep within her empty womb.
“Please,” she begged, uncaring of anything but the need for him inside her.
“Now you’re ready for release,” he rasped.
He sucked her clitoris hard and inserted a thick finger inside her. She arched at the contact, her virgin flesh quivering on the brink of something new, something unforgettable.
“Yes, sura, take your pleasure. Ride my mouth, my hand,” he rumbled against her mound.
He began thrusting his finger in and out of her, increasing the pressure on her clit. He added a second finger, and suddenly the sensation became too much to bear.
She screamed when a wave of energy flooded her entire body. Pleasure burst like a flame, igniting every nerve ending she possessed. She arched, frozen in ecstasy, conscious of Gren’s mouth and hands bringing her such bliss.
Energy flowed all around her, and she heard Gren’s groan from a distance. On and on her climax continued, the pleasure building and building until finally she crested a higher plane while her body quivered helplessly on the ground.
After some time she became aware of Gren’s gaze on her, of the sound of their mingled, heavy breathing.
He remained crouched between her thighs, his eyes bright, his body glowing with vitality.
“What did you do to me?” she croaked, her throat reedy and her body surprisingly weak.
“I think the question, sura, is, what did you do to me?” Gren sounded strange, his voice echoing in the dark void surrounding them. “Now you need to rest, and I need to recover.”
His eyes flared, unnatural and inhuman. Before she could comment, blackness enveloped her, pushing her into a dreamless sleep until morning.
* * * *
As soon as he withdrew from her mind, he knew he’d made a large mistake. Gren felt on fire, consumed with the taste of her, the need to bury his flesh and plant his seed in the untried warrior woman.
The sight of her naked body alone should have been worth the effort. As he’d imagined, she had full, rounded breasts, marble-white and untouched. Her slim waist and taut belly led to the perfection of womanhood, smooth lips guarding her hot, wet pussy.
He closed his eyes, savouring the memory of her taste. Musky yet sweet, an addicting blend of innocence and experience, of femininity and pure rebellion, a goad to his own unruly nature.
Though all contact between them had occurred in the astral state, the energy had been real. Gren had wanted so badly to take her, to thrust into her warm and willing frame. His energy might have joined hers, but his flesh, still stuck in the cell, only experienced an echo of his imagining. While he’d been fingering her, licking her cream, his cock remained hard, full and ready to come as his body lay still in his prison cell.
He hadn’t allowed himself to climax while in the dreamstate, not wanting a possible tie before he allowed himself to fully heal. He sensed, with a woman like Temis, he’d need his full faculties to deal with her. He’d also thought that once he left the dreamstate he’d regain control over his desire. But the lust, the all-consuming need that should have disappeared refused to fade.
Like Jahnja, Temis’ incredible energy had the power of a dozen women. Yet unlike the thraia, Temis had somehow bonded with him. Even now, thoughts of her warmed him, made him ache to have her. The experience left him dazed and more than a little concerned. It also left him achingly hard.
He’d mentally joined her to salve his wounds, and, he admitted, to prod her, to see what made her different from other women. Now instead of answers, he had more questions. And a hard-on growing to painful proportions. Cursing the woman’s desirability, he tugged down his trousers.
Squeezing his cock, he rubbed and stroked. He envisioned her swallowing his seed, her mouth milking him dry. His hand moved faster as the fantasy built, images of Temis under him, on top of him, being taken from behind…until finally he groaned and came.
When his breathing evened, he used the small napkin he’d been given with his meal to clean himself as best he could.
Though his body felt relief and the beginnings of true healing, his spirit felt bereft of her presence. Hating such weakness, Gren forced their tie from his mind, worried at how hard he fought to free himself from her grasp.
In the morning, he would need his focus to deal with his imprisonment, a cagey enemy too close to his allies, and a woman who irritated and aroused him like no other.
According to Sernal, he had to work with Temis on this mission. The lives of more than a dozen women depended upon him. There would be time enough to deal with Temis.
Deal with Temis… An idea formed. He smiled for the first time since his ordeal began. The idea
had merit. Anti-peacemaker in nature, with a touch of bold thievery, and the forced submission of a Zeyr-trained warrior-woman bent on denying him. What could be more perfect?
Chapter Four
Temis sat across from Rafe and Sernal in Rafe’s room, dimly aware of their heated conversation concerning the mission.
She couldn’t shake the vague sensation that something odd had occurred last night. Frowning, she tried to remember what she’d dreamt about but could only envision a fighting circle and a luminous pool of water.
“Temis, your thoughts?” Sernal asked.
“What’s that?”
Rafe sighed. “Pay attention here, Temis. We’ve got to figure out how to free Gren without appearing to help in the slightest. If Rorn senses anything wrong, he’ll cover his tracks before we can trace them. And Flor knows what he’ll do to the missing women.”
“So we definitely know Rorn is involved?”
Sernal hesitated. “He’s involved. But I need more proof.”
“More?” Rafe’s lips quirked. “How about some, any, even a hint of proof?”
Temis glanced from brother to brother. “So you don’t know for a fact he’s involved?”
Sernal’s golden eyes blazed as he glared first at her then at Rafe. “I know he’s involved. He as good as told me so last night, right after he posted his own guards outside Gren’s room. He’s a crafty bastard, and if we want to find those women before they’re sold into uncharted sectors, we need to move quickly.”
Rafe shrugged. “Then do what I already suggested. Slip Gren a phaser and have one of Rorn’s guards check up on him. Gren won’t hesitate to use it.”
“No.” Sernal stood and began to pace. “Gren needs answers and a direction to follow. Hell, he hasn’t even seen our intelligence yet. If he shoots and escapes before we have a chance to fill him in, it’ll be a disaster.”
Temis thought about it. “What if he escapes and I meet him later with the information?”
Sernal shook his head. “I want confirmation he’s following my lead before he takes off. Temis, you don’t know Gren. He’s, ah, how to put this?”
