Captured Rapture
Lexxie Couper
Mercy, Book Three
Galactic Union Enforcer Raina Mynn never knew what hit her. One minute she’s busting bad guys across the galaxy with the help of her scary and scarily reliable partner Fraz, the next she’s being attacked by an insane man who thinks he’s part of an extinct species. Attacked in the best way, mind you. Attacked by his hands and mouth and more southerly body parts. Torr is as fascinating as he is infuriating. He won’t stop until Raina is mated…sated…
Captured.
But her gorgeous hunk of nutjob isn’t what he appears to be. And much to her surprise—neither is Raina.
Inside Scoop: Ever had sex with a dragon shifter? No? Well, we’re here to tell ya, it’s hot, hot, HOT!
A Romantica® paranormal erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave
CAPTURED RAPTURE
Lexxie Couper
Prologue
Wyvernian—an ancient race of dragon shifters that once called the minor planet Mercy and its surrounding space home, in sector Seven A, Fourth Quadrant. Slaughtered by the Galactic Union in an act of brutal genocide over three hundred years ago.
Legend says the ghost of the last Wyvernian haunts the surface of Mercy’s beta moon. A savage man capable of incinerating your soul with just a look. A dragon capable of incinerating your flesh with just a thought…
Ha. Sounds like shyte to me.
Chapter One
I never knew what hit me. One moment I’m skimming over the surface of Mercy’s beta moon, its dull red ground a blurred carpet below me, its dry, cold air filling my lungs…
The next I’m flat on my back, wrists pinned to the powdery grit, legs spread, with a man roughly six-foot-seven pressing down on me. A cock that felt like a Tallaxion viper—y’know the really big, thick ones they find in the Furthest Jungles—rammed at the junction of my thighs, shoving at the lips of my sex with a brutal force that should have pissed me off but instead made my pulse leap and my mouth turn dry.
I stared up at whoever the fuck held me down, glaring into eyes the color of an angry Earth sky. A lone female on a jet cycle probably looked like an easy target, but for fuck’s sake, I wore the uniform of a Galactic Union Enforcer. What type of idiot, no matter how desperate to claim a woman, jumped a cop? Especially one flying across a moon at almost twice the safe propulsion speed with an Aglaian disruptor on her right hip?
“This kind,” the hulking man who felt like granite murmured, jerking my wrists above my head. He locked them in one large fist and yanked my disruptor from its thigh harness before I could blink.
Or digest the fact he’d answered a question I hadn’t asked aloud.
His mouth crashed down on mine, claiming my lips as his property. I could feel the possession in the fierce and frightening way his tongue invaded my mouth, plunging and plundering. Merciless and savage. Taking what I wasn’t giving. Well, what I was trying not to give.
Truth be known, I was getting aroused. More than aroused. If the man had reached between my spread, kicking legs right at that point, any point actually—like the point when his teeth nipped my bottom lip and sent shards of wicked pain into my center—he would have found the crotch of my uniform damp with musky pleasure.
I’d been kissed many times by Raavelian alpha slaves, by Slessorian Master Pleasurers, but none kissed the way this…this…
Gods. This male kissed.
His mouth fucked mine. There was simply no other way to explain it. His mouth did to my mouth what a cock should do to a cunt. It delved deep, took everything and returned it all back ten-fold. His tongue lashed at the inside of my mouth, whipped at the edges of my teeth, mated with a need so untamed I felt the building pressure low in the pit of my stomach. Gods, I was going to come. From a kiss. A kiss.
My attacker—for what else could I call him?—dragged his lips from mine and scored a scalding line along my clenched jaw to my ear. “From my kiss,” he whispered,as if he’d once again heard my unspoken thoughts, before biting down on my earlobe. Ribbons of wet sensations rippled down my neck, across my chest to my belly. My nipples pinched hard, pushing against the restrictive confines of my uniform, and I whimpered.
Who are you?
The thought hadn’t finished forming in my mind when he pulled away slightly, just enough to feel the cool kiss of the moon’s dry air on my cheeks. His free hand, the one that had sent my favorite disruptor flying who-knows-where, closed tightly over my breast, and I gasped, reveling in the absolute rapture that spiraled through me from the brutal possession.
“I’m the one you’ve always dreamed of.” His fingers pressed into the swell of my breast and I whimpered again. “The one you’ve always feared.”
His cryptic words caressed my senses, as soft as he was hard. His turgid length ground against my sex, trapped beneath a layer of thick, coarse leather but still capable of making my clit feel like it was on fire.
I had to get away.
No, you don’t.
I was drowning in sensations I hadn’t expected to be experiencing on a moon. Yes, in a sex-den; yes, after a session with a masseur, but on the surface of Mercy’s least important moon? A place more boring than a GU bureaucrat? While I was on recon? What would Fraz do when I was late to report—
“Your partner will be fine.” The mysterious man stared at me with unreadable eyes, the hand on my breast squeezing with languid intent.
I glared at him, trying quite unsuccessfully to ignore the wet licks of tension unfurling in my pussy. I’d had enough of him knowing my thoughts. I had difficulty knowing my thoughts sometimes, it was bloody annoying having a complete stranger, no matter how arousing, do a better job of it than me. “Will you stop doing that?”
A very evil, very sexy grin pulled at lips I knew would send a poor simple GU Enforcer to the Ninth Heaven. “No.”
I ground my teeth. Just as he ground his cock to my sex again.
“There is nothing you can do to stop what is to come, Raina Mynn.”
Hearing my name in that deep rumble made my pulse leap into frantic flight. That, and the slow way he rolled his hips higher, letting me feel his long, solid, thick erection stroke from base to tip over my cunt. Gods, if that was to come, I was in danger.
“Not danger. It is your destiny.”
Destiny.
The word sent a chill straight into my gut and I stiffened. When a strange man grabs you on a terraformed moon, makes your body reacts in ways it shouldn’t, sticks his tongue down your throat and his cock against your cunt, and then utters the word “destiny”, you know you’re in trouble.
Shyte. He was a zealot. But for whom? Which deity does he—
“I worship no deity.”
I bit back a sharp growl. For fuck’s sake, he was finishing my thoughts now.
I stared up at him, too aware of the way his fingers ground my wrists together, too aware of the way his massive weight pinned me to the ground. Way too aware of the massive shaft between my thighs that seemed to be promising something I shouldn’t want but did all the same. “Well then,” I snarled, trying to shift my cunt away from his dick. “Who friggin’ decided being trapped under you was my destiny?”
“I did.”
His smile stretched wider. Moved on from being sexy to fuckable. Yes, he had a fuckable smile. It was that horny. That still didn’t mean I wasn’t going to fight the bastard off. When it came to my partners, destiny didn’t stand a chance. I came. I fucked. I went. No preordained spiritual nutjob was playing matchmaker with me. I liked my sex one way. No strings. No strings meant no pain.
Well, not the kind of pain that afflicts the heart. Other kinds of pain…slapping-the-ass-cheeks kind of pain, biting-the-
nipples kind of pain…those pains were—
Shyte! What the fuck was I going on about?
Destiny. The weirdo had uttered the word “destiny”. I’m out of here.
Now, if only I could make both the weirdo and my body listen.
Another chuckle rumbled low in his broad, muscled chest. The guy must have bench-pressed R42 androids in his spare time. “I must admit…” He laughed, and my pussy squeezed tight at the sound. Gods, I was in trouble. “I didn’t foresee how argumentative you’d be.”
He dragged the pad of his thumb over my nipple and the annoying little nub of flesh puckered instantly with rock-hard appreciation. A gasp burst from my lips and before I could stop myself, I arched my back, thrusting my breasts upward.
He chuckled again, the sound sending vibrations through his body, making his cock jerk in little spasms against my spread and thoroughly wet sex. “This I did see.” He teased my nipple again, the coarse material of my vest doing nothing to stop the sensations his arrogant touch created. “This I saw many, many times.”
He captured the traitorous, distended tip between thumb and forefinger, rolling it gently. I gasped again, biting my bottom lip too late to stop the soft inhalation. Gods, had I thought I was going to come earlier? My sex felt ready to erupt. How could he do this to me?
I glared at him, wishing him dead. And yet at the same time, something began to bloom in the pit of my belly. Something like…
“You are remembering.” His voice sent a fresh wave of warm vibrations through my body. His smile—still all too fuckable—turned smug. “Your dreams. Your nightmares. The one you lust for, long for, yet the one you fear all the same.”
His words stroked my senses, and an echo of images flashed through my mind…
A man, this man, locking my wrists in io-cuffs, lifting them above my head until I stood naked before him, arms stretched high, breasts thrust forward, my juices dribbling down the insides of my thighs.
Cold terror sliced through me and I sucked in a sharp breath. The dream. One of many. Too many to number. Always the same man, always the same situation.
Me, captured. Bound. Fucked.
Every time, I woke from it screaming. Every time, I felt the ghost of my orgasm still shuddering in my cunt. My worst nightmare. My greatest fantasy. Forced submission.
For the first time since he’d knocked me from my jet cycle and threw away my weapon, I truly struggled to escape him. I had to. If I didn’t, every one of my dreams would become reality. Of that I had little doubt. “Get. The fuck. Off. Me!”
He pinched my nipple. Hard. “No.”
Base pleasure surged into my core. I writhed, desperate to buck him off me. All I achieved was grinding my pussy harder to his cock.
“As you want it to be,” he whispered, his hand pressing my breast flat to my chest. He squeezed his fingers and hot licks of pleasure shot deep into the center of my sex. “As I will do for the rest of your life.”
That was the last straw. His arrogance was going to drive me crazy—or make me come.
I whipped my legs up, locked them around his hips and slammed them back to the ground, taking him along. It was enough to jerk him partially off my body. Enough to take him by surprise.
I scrambled backward, kicking out with my right foot as I moved. My booted heel struck him in the jaw, and for a split second I swore his dark-brown skin shimmered with pearlescent gold light. Those piercing gray eyes of his flashed brilliant green, a hiss unlike any I’d heard from a humanoid tore from his throat, and before I could change my mind I kicked him again. Square in the nose.
There was a crunch. There was blood, but I didn’t give a rat’s ass. With the phenomenal agility that had seen me finish at the top of my hand-to-hand combat class at the academy, I flipped myself onto my hands and knees and launched from the ground.
I ran across the craggy moon’s surface at a dead sprint, my heart hammering, my sex still pulsing. My nipples ached, hard with lustful desire, but I shut out their insistent want. My body didn’t have a fucking clue what it wanted. I had to get away.
Frantic, I scanned the desolate terrain around me. Where the fuck was my jet cycle? The thing was programmed to come to a complete halt once connection with its rider was broken. The second the lunatic knocked me from its seat it should have ceased momentum, hovering motionless in the exact spot my ass left its bio-tuned seat.
A low growl from behind made my heart leap faster. Shyte, he was coming after me.
I didn’t risk looking over my shoulder. Where the flying fuck was my jet cycle?
Bright light glinted off something metallic to my right and I changed direction, my heels skidding with chaotic traction in the coarse red grains beneath my feet. There it was.
Another growl flayed my back. Closer. Louder. A shiver raced through me. My pussy pulsed. For a split second the insane urge to stop running flooded through me. Stop running, let my pursuer leap on me, slam me to the ground, rip my clothes from my body and bury his shaft into my willing, sodden sex.
I stumbled. My sprint faltered.
What the fuck are you doing, Raina? Run! Get away!
The frantic scream sliced through my head and, my blood roaring in my ears, I burst forward. My jet cycle was but five feet away. Five never-ending, slow-motion, gods-cursed feet. I ran.
Four feet. Three. Two.
Fingers scraped my shoulder. Strong, determined fingers that would make me moan with capitulation.
Mine to fuck. Mine to claim. Mine to—
“Goddamn it, get out of my head!”
I heard a chuckle I swear sounded like “no” and then I reached my jet cycle and slapped my palm against its steel seat. I launched myself into an insanely impressive cartwheel over its stationary balk and—mid-arc—snatched my molecular disruptor from its holster fixed to the cycle’s fuel tank.
My feet hit the ground in a cloud of choking red dust, blinding me for the split second it took me to raise my weapon, the disruptor leveled on his hard, way-too-impressive chest.
Except he wasn’t there.
“What the fuck?” I frowned, jerking my stare around the empty terrain. Not a sign of him. Not even a second set of footprints in the moon’s coarse surface.
A tingle raced up my spine and I gripped my disintegrator tighter. Where in all the holy hells did he go? And why am I disappointed?
“Enforcer Mynn, for the fifth fucking time, what the fuck are you doing? Repeat, what the fuck are you doing? I’m beginning to worry here. What’s your location? Your bio signs are going fucking crazy, Mynn. Answer the fucking com-unit. Repeat, answer the com-unit!”
I jumped, the sound of my partner’s raspy growl startling me more than it should. Scowling, I smacked the com-link activator on my jet cycle’s dash, still scanning the eerie terrain for any sign of my attacker. “I’m here, Fraz,” I said. “Stop stressing. I’m okay. Just got…distracted.” An itch at the back of my neck made me spin, the sight of endless red emptiness making my stomach churn. I needed to get a grip.
“Well, if you’ve finished fucking around on the cold side…” Fraz grumbled through the com-link, and I could practically see his scaly, ugly face wrinkling with impatience. “I’ve done the eastern sweep and want to get back to Mercy. There’s no sign of life out here. I don’t know what the commander was thinking, sending us out to this ass-end lump of rock in the first place.”
I climbed astride my jet cycle, not relaxing my grip on my disintegrator one iota. The second my ass connected with the hover-cycle’s seat, the propulsion engine activated, sending a deep, thrumming vibration into the damp junction of my spread thighs, and I gasped. Not at the sensation itself, but at the instant memory of my attacker.
Torr. In your dreams, his name is Torr.
Gods, Raina, get out of here now, before you go looking for the psycho.
The thoroughly enticing and hideously unnerving thought spurred me into action. As did the persistent tingle up and down my spine that told me beyond doubt,
the man was watching me. I shoved my disintegrator into its holster, gunned the jet cycle’s throttle and shot forward, flying across the moon’s dead surface as fast as the transport’s engineering would let me.
The desolate red landscape became a desolate red blur, the dry, frigid air blasting my face, lashing through my hair in violent tugs that for some reason made me think of my attacker again.
Stop. Go back.
I ground my teeth, denying my body’s wanton, traitorous command. There was no way in all the hells I was going back. No matter what my commander wanted, I wasn’t stepping foot on this—what did Fraz call it?—“ass-end lump of rock” ever again.
My sex throbbed with angry regret and I shifted on the jet cycle, pressing the still pleasure-swollen folds of my pussy to its hard, cold seat. Why was I still horny? What the fuck was wrong with me?
Destiny. Mine to fuck. Mine to claim. Mine to—
“No.” I slammed a mental door on the surreal memory as I squeezed even more speed out of my jet cycle. “A whole friggin’ bag of no.”
I threw the transport into a tight right turn and headed for my rendezvous point with Fraz, crouching low behind the windshield, tense and alert. Ready to be pounced on again.
Ready to be taken and used and pleasured again no matter how much I told myself I wasn’t.
Ready to be fucked and claimed. Wanting to be fucked and claimed.
Gods. I was insane.
Chapter Two
Fraz took one look at me as I climbed off my jet cycle and he burst out laughing. A laughing Bo’aa is not a pretty sight. They are an ugly, serpentine race of unsavory bastards with no lips, no eyelids, slitted nostrils and razor-sharp teeth that look as if they could tear the hide from a Tallaxion mammoth without breaking a sweat.
Bo’aas didn’t sweat. They made other species sweat.
It was a fairly well-known fact the Galactic Union had spent considerable credits trying to wipe the entire Bo’aa race out of the galaxies. It was also a well-known fact they’d pissed off the Bo’aas so much that if a Bo’aa came face-to-face with a Union official, the official was sent back to the GU Premier in a large collection of small containers. You didn’t piss off a Bo’aa unless you wanted to end up dead and in pieces.
Captured Rapture: 3 (Mercy) Page 1
