Satin Spar

by Kim Knox

  She flicked at one clip and then another. Her hand slid over her marbled skin, catching more clips until her fingers stopped to play on the soft curve of her belly. She looked up at him from under her lashes and his hands tightened into fists. “Good enough?”

  “No. Off. All of it.”

  Scar shrugged out of the top half of the suit and wriggled her body out of the rest. She fell back onto the bed, her arms flopped above her head. “Now, do you plan to do anything this time? Or should I rediscover the charms of some of my stepfather’s guards?”

  Her goading had him so hard he could barely speak. And then there was her scent, drifting up to him on the cool air. It hit his hindbrain and he growled. His hands ran up her thighs and parted her legs. The first lap of his tongue had her quivering. And she tasted…she tasted sweet and hot and so…his. He groaned as he lapped at her, drinking her, eating her. Her body shook and he held her firm, held her and licked her until she screamed his name.

  He ripped off his shirt and stamped out of the rest of his clothes. His body covered hers, his mouth, his fingers finding sensitive points in her flesh, forcing her to arch against him and dig her nails into his back. Her soft little mewls had him pressing hard against her…and then he was inside her. Tyler bit down the urge to howl. She was hot. Tight. So tight—

  “Scar…”

  She bared her teeth at him. “Don’t stop!” She dug her fingers into his backside, urging him harder, faster, to thrust into her willing flesh.

  Tyler was lost. Couldn’t fight her need. Her spine arched and her muscles contracted around him as she came again, pulling his orgasm from him. Heat, light surged over him and he sank his teeth into her shoulder until he tasted her blood. Shuddering, his body eased down and his tongue worked over her wound. She was his and the satisfaction of that made him smile.

  Scar sighed and ran her fingers slowly through his hair. “Nice,” she murmured.

  Tangled and sweaty, Tyler rolled over, pulling Scar with him. His fingers traced lightly over the mark on her shoulder. His. He stared up at the ceiling’s intricate plasterwork and let out a slow, hot breath. Sanity drifted slowly down over his brain. He closed his eyes. Shit. Shit. “You should have said.” He ran a fingertip around the bite marring her skin. He turned his head and held her shadowed gaze. “I would have been more careful.”

  Scar rubbed at her eyes and pinched at the bridge of her nose. “No, you wouldn’t.” Her laugh had a bitter edge. “That’s not how it works.”

  “Scar, I—”

  “Tyler.” She ran her hand down his chest and played idly with the hard muscles of his stomach. She watched her hands and didn’t look up as she said, “I’ve never risked this. Not with a human and certainly not with a Caraniae. The Corps is right. Caraniae women are dangerous. Men fixate.”

  Tyler laughed. “Yeah, I noticed.”

  Her hand slid lower and toyed with the line of thickening hair. His hips twisted. “It’s too late to undo it.” The smirk in her voice had him hard. His cock twitched. She ran her thumb over the sensitive tip and he sucked in a quick breath. “So…you know my lack of experience is a pressing weight.” She looked at him and her eyes gleamed. She was going to kill him. She was. “But I’m not sure a human could ever—”

  “Enough.” And, with a growl, the insanity descended again.

  “What do we do now?”

  Scar rolled her legs over the bed and dug her toes into the thick carpet. They’d fallen asleep. The shifted shadows in the room showed the afternoon was moving on. Time to get up and face her betrothed. And didn’t that sound strange? She tried not to laugh.

  Her gaze slid back to Tyler, delaying on his smooth, brown flesh. Bruising already stained his skin, red scratches running deep down his back, intersecting with the lines of silver scarring. She winced. “I was rough.”

  Turning over, Tyler grinned and reached out to touch her lip. Scar hissed against the tender spot. “So was I,” he said. “What happens now? We get healing packs and head…” His words trailed away. He pushed back the sheet covering her legs and let out a slow sigh. “Your scent. Scar…”

  She stared at him as he pulled her back into bed and knelt over her. He spread her legs. His finger slid over her slick folds and the familiar surge of need shot through her body. Tyler sucked on his finger. His eyes closed and he groaned.

  The sight of him tightened her desire and the scent flowered. He stared at her. “All you can eat,” she murmured, falling back into the soft pillows.

  The first slow swirl of his tongue had her gasping. He licked and sucked and hummed his pleasure and already the first tease of her orgasm flittered low in her pelvis. She didn’t question her reaction to Tyler. If she did, fear of what she had fallen into, of what she may have become, would swallow her whole. Her thoughts eased the urgency of her orgasm and it allowed Tyler to savour her, to eat his fill.

  His fingers caressed her thighs in easy patterns, deliberately tracing sensitive flesh. She gasped and twisted against him. Tyler’s laughter brushed hot breath over her mons and her body shuddered. If he wanted to carry on, he would have to— The curl of his tongue found her clitoris and all other thought vanished.

  Scar lost herself within her body, begging him, pleading. When his fingers slid into her and hooked in just the right way—

  She cried out his name, light, heat and joy sweeping over her in a searing burst.

  Tyler didn’t stop licking her, licking her until her aching body shuddered. But she couldn’t… “No more. Please,” she begged, pulling the man away from her thighs. “I can’t. I’m sore.”

  Tyler grinned and licked his lips. “Why are Caraniae men so pissed off when they have this to come home to?”

  “Probably because their women ration it.” She forced herself to stand. Her legs wobbled and she sank back to the bed. This…they…had to stop and her gut cramped at the thought. Tyler was addictive. She pushed herself up. She had to think about dragging on that stupid costume and facing the horde of Caraniae.

  Tyler followed her out of bed. She closed her eyes as he stroked a finger over her bare shoulder and she shivered. “I’ve tasted you, Scar. I won’t give that up.”

  She was screwed, but his words brought out the instinctive taunting, the foreplay they needed. She couldn’t help herself as she glanced back at him. She wanted him as much as he wanted her…and hell, she didn’t want to deny her instinct. With the curve of a sharp smile, she murmured words that would drive fire through his flesh. “Will you be my slave? My plaything? My fuck toy?”

  His eyes darkened and the sudden sear of anger had her blood hot. His fingers tightened on her shoulder. “Do you want your betrothed to satisfy you?” He turned her and pulled her back to him, pressing his hard body against hers. His erection pushed against her already wet flesh. “Do you think he could?”

  How many times did her body want this man? All thoughts centred on him and the need to make his eyes burn. “He’s very pretty…”

  She grunted as Tyler slammed her into the wall. All too quickly, he lifted her, his fingers separating her. Scar cried out at the thrust of his entry. Wild fire burst over her nerves. Tyler drove into her again and again, Scar’s thighs crushing his hips, her body wrapped about his, clinging, biting into the hard muscle of his shoulder.

  Her orgasm teetered, she just needed, needed…

  “You’re mine,” Tyler grated, emptying himself into her.

  Fire burst over her brain and she lost her body to a burning wave of pleasure. His. She was his. Scar fell limp, Tyler’s fierce hold stopping her from falling to the floor. She buried her face against his neck and breathed in his wanted scent. This was why the Caraniae males were so angry. Their females did this to them, taunted them into fucking them. And it seemed that her scent could even change the brain chemistry of humans. “Yours.” Her voice was no more than a tired whisper. Tears pricked at her eyes. “I’m yours. Always.”

  Tyler let her slide to the floor and she moved away, un
able to hold his gaze.

  “What the hell just happened? I took you like…” He winced and Scar looked up to see pain flash through his eyes. “I was like an animal, only one thought on my mind. No other man can share you, fill you. Your taste, your body, belongs to me.”

  “You branded me,” she said, dropping down to pick up clothes from the floor.

  “Branded you?”

  “Caraniae ritual. It’s the final stage of the bond. You just soured me to others. Made me yours alone.”

  “Mine?”

  Scar’s hand fisted the thin hide of her costume. The word had sent a shiver over her skin. She’d never known her Caraniae genes were so powerful. She was bound to Tyler. Scar closed her eyes and she made herself breathe. But he was a pure-blood human. She had no clue how long the bond would last with him. “I didn’t know this would happen with you, Tyler. How long the effect will last—”

  “How long?”

  Scar shrugged and made herself stand. It pained her to look at him, so she didn’t. “With me, the chemical change is permanent. With you…” She let out a slow sigh. He would be free and she would be rabidly jealous of any woman simply looking, touching, kissing, fucking— She closed her mind to those thoughts. Already anger surged. “This could get…difficult…”

  “Great.”

  She padded towards the bathroom and willed herself not to look at him. “We have to get ready.”

  The memory of pounding into her, the fire in his blood, her fierce cries of pleasure, the bite of her teeth into his skin until she drew blood had Tyler’s mind in turmoil. Absently, he rubbed his palm over the teeth marks on his shoulder and watched her close the door.

  He closed his eyes, hating the fact that a healing pack would heal his skin as if she had never marked him. He wanted it. Wanted her on his flesh. The edge of his thumb caught in the raw curve of her upper bite and he pulled in a breath against the tender rush of pain.

  It’d been wild sex. He’d never experienced such complete abandon. Yes, he’d made Scar his. The thought brought heat to his skin and satisfaction to his belly. But then the belief that what they’d shared would only be temporary soured his pleasure and his fingers dug hard into his skin and muscle. He welcomed the sudden sharp bite of pain. The idea that, at some point in the future, he wouldn’t mind others taking her scorched through his thoughts.

  His jaw clenched. But he opened his eyes and let his shoulders drop. He had to see sense. The sane part of his brain hoped that the madness faded before he met Rilean Harannah. At that moment, he’d kill anyone who touched Scar.

  And that included her future husband.

  Chapter Five

  “I’m not happy about this.”

  Scar stared down at the stripes of hide crossing her body, legs, arms. The costume barely covered her crotch and she was conscious that it wrapped taut over her nipples. Tyler’s hot, angry glare was in sharp contrast to his earlier laughter as she struggled into the stupid thing. “This is what I have to wear.” She stretched her shoulders. “And I have to find my mother and try to explain…” she waved between them, “…us.”

  Tyler stopped at the top of the stairs. “Your mother. She broke her bond.”

  His fingertips pressed against her spine and she had to have imagined their hesitation. “A bond never formed between them. My mother has no Caraniae blood.”

  “Neither do I.”

  Her insides twisted. She knew that too well. “At the minute, I have enough for both of us.”

  Tyler’s soft chuckle spread warmth over her exposed skin. “Yes, you do.”

  Was a bond supposed to be this too? A simple pleasure at his being near her? His fingers traced between the hide, following the vein of her skin. Then, of course, there was the other side of the bond that had her needing to shove him up against the nearest wall and have her wicked way with him.

  She let out a slow sigh and took his hand. The contact eased her nerves. “Let’s find my mother.”

  They’d been missing for four hours. Scar winced. Not exactly come straight down. It surprised Scar that her mother hadn’t sent out a scouting party. Andra always had when she’d disappeared into the woods.

  Scar glanced down at their joined hands and tried to ignore the surge of satisfaction in her gut. Her mother would know if there was a law that could sort this so they could avoid bloodshed. She might even know how long Tyler would be bound to her.

  The joy soured and she pushed all emotion away.

  They stopped at the open doors and her nerves flooded with adrenalin.

  Dignitaries from every planet and government department packed the long drawing room. The intricate globes giving light to the space floated high in the curved ceiling, gleaming over the white cloths covering the numerous tables. It was a relief that no altar squatted at one end of the room.

  There was yet no sign of the Caraniae contingent. Scar let out a slow, relieved breath. They were safe…for now.

  “Sheehan, there you are!” her mother declared, rushing up to her. “You’ve obviously lost all concept of time. As soon as possible does not mean four hours—” Andra stopped and something in her face changed. “What have you done?”

  “I…” How did she explain to her mother what she’d been doing for most of the afternoon?

  “With me.” Andra flicked her finger towards them and left the noisy bustle of the drawing room. “In here.” She opened the door to a windowless storage room. Lights flicked on, breaking the gloom, and Andra shut the door. She secured it with a press of her palm to the lock. “Now.” Her sharp gaze darted from Scar to Tyler and back. “Tell me.”

  Tyler squeezed Scar’s hand and Andra groaned.

  “Tell me you didn’t, Sheehan. Please?” She pressed her hand to her face and expelled a sigh. “Practically every leader in the known worlds is here to witness this event. It’s a symbol of the new peace—”

  Scar bristled. “So you wanted me to have Rilean as my mate?”

  “No…” Andra shook her head, “…no, of course not. It’s just that…” Her mother stared at Tyler and her shoulders sagged. “He’s human, Sheehan. Whatever he feels now won’t last. With Rilean it would.” She laughed, something sour, bitter. “I was lucky that I couldn’t bond to your father. But you…? You’re branded, aren’t you?”

  Scar nodded. Her mother had confirmed her worst fears. Tyler’s bond to her would fade to nothing.

  “Oh, Scar.”

  The use of her name by her mother had tears pricking at Scar’s eyes.

  Andra straightened. “No matter the outcome between you two, today can’t go ahead.” She rubbed her hands together and her eyes were lost to thought. “You’ve questioned your father’s choice, defied him, dishonoured Rilean and his House, brought shame on your human family—”

  “That is enough,” Tyler muttered, his voice little more than a growl.

  Andra blinked. A smile twitched at her mouth. “We have to know what we must repair, Antony.”

  Scar laughed. “It’s the Caraniae. Who do I fight?”

  “Yes, it’ll probably come to that, despite my best efforts.”

  “Wait, she’s not fighting anyone!” Tyler made Scar look at him, his hands hard on her shoulders. “I started this, I will sort it.”

  Fire burned up from her gut at the anger in his face. The fight or fuck reflex had kicked in. “Tyler…”

  “I’ve seen you fight, Scar. You’re an amateur.”

  She shoved him back against the wall, breaking his hold on her. “Amateur? I’ll show you—”

  “Enough!” Scar started at the command in her mother’s voice. “You’re spewing enough pheromones that even I can sense them.” She relaxed her body and her thumb and forefinger played with her bottom lip. “All right. Here’s what we do. Scar, you circulate. Briefly. People have wondered where you are, and you have to be seen. Then hide. Both of you. I have brokering to do.” Andra cracked her knuckles. “And it’s been a few years.”

  She palmed ope
n the door and ushered them out. “Stay calm and don’t let anyone, anyone touch either of you. The branding is still too raw. You shouldn’t be in company…but that can’t be helped.”

  “Can’t we just…” Scar pointed back to the curve of the stairs.

  “This is as much about Myers as it is about you. For the honour of the Caraniae, you’ll fight. For Myers, you’ll schmooze.” She snapped her fingers at a black-suited man heading down the long corridor. He stopped and scuttled over. “Go,” she muttered to Scar and Tyler. “Do your duty.”

  Scar watched her mother bark rapid orders to the man, who nodded at almost every word. Then they both strode away, Andra’s boot heels clicking and the swish of her golden dress kicking out behind her.

  “Your mother’s crazy.” Tyler’s voice was a warm whisper over her ear and she shivered.

  “Yes, she is.” Scar turned back to the drawing room. “But she does know what she’s doing.”

  “Scar.” Something in his voice made her look up at him. Her heart contracted at the softness in his expression. His warm hand slid across her jaw and unconsciously she leaned into his touch. “I know…whatever this is…will fade and I’ll probably regret that for my whole life.”

  “Especially as I won’t let another woman near you.”

  Tyler laughed. “Yes, there’s that.” His other hand slid down her back, drawing her to him with a gentleness they’d never shared before. She let herself enjoy the heat of his body, slowly stroking her hand over his spine. “But at this minute…” his voice was only a soft whisper as his lips brushed hers in a slow, tender caress, “…I would fight and die for you.”

  His words cracked her heart. She swallowed, her throat tight. “Me too.” The words seemed inadequate, but she couldn’t add anything more. The pain and the joy of Tyler’s admission had her unbalanced. She let out a slow breath and willed herself to stand back from him. She worked a smile across her mouth. “Now, for the honour of my family, I must chat and eat nibbles.”

  “I’ll do that with you too.”