Triumphant (Battle Born Book 14)

by Cyndi Friberg

  “You can’t promise that. You have no way of controlling what people say.”

  “True, but I can make them regret their words.” The ferocity in his eyes should have frightened her. He clearly meant every word. If someone threatened her, he would punish them severely.

  “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

  “Good, because I’m not interested in being one. But I will protect you. I’m your mate, and you are mine. I want you to feel safe.”

  Safe? It had been so long since she’d felt safe, she almost forgot the sensation.

  He knelt in front of her, tall and strong, capable of fending off her enemies. And he commanded a spaceship, which meant he was equipped to challenge Abaddon much more so than any human. It had to be the pheromones tainting her thinking. Why else would she even waste time thinking about his offer?

  One of his hands descended along her face, then wrapped around the back of her neck. “Your scent is driving me crazy.” He sounded intoxicated and his eyes had gone all hazy again.

  She understood what he was feeling. The same hunger swelled inside her, making her crave his touch, his mouth moving against hers. “Is there anything—other than sex—that can back this off? I’m not sure I’ll make it eleven more hours.”

  Rather than answer, he kissed her, a slow, soothing exchange. “We have to feed the beast, but we don’t have to…”

  “Go all the way?” She smiled at the old-fashioned phrase, but scalding desire cascaded through her body.

  “Yes.” His lips drifted over her cheek then onto her neck.

  She maneuvered her legs beneath her, kneeling as he knelt. His head was still way above hers, but at least he no longer had to bend almost in half. This was insane. She didn’t trust men and resented aliens. Sedrik was both, so why was she even considering this? “My panties stay on and so do your pants.”

  “Agreed.”

  Chapter Three

  Sedrik buried his fingers in Rebecca’s hair and inhaled her scent. Her lips were parted and waiting as his mouth covered hers and he shook with his need to claim her. Desire pounded through his system, driving caution to the wind as he focused entirely on pleasuring his mate.

  He traced her bottom lip with his tongue, not wanting to overwhelm her, but unable to live without her taste a moment longer. She moaned and touched her tongue to his, guiding him deeper into her mouth. Requiring no further encouragement, he shifted her neck into the bend of his elbow and deepened the kiss. She tasted so damn sweet. He wanted to lick every inch of her body. But he’d agreed to her restrictions and breaking his word now would obliterate the tenuous trust he’d managed to build.

  She tugged his uniform top free of his pants, not stopping until she found bare skin. Her hand glided over his abdomen and onto his chest, exploring with obvious interest. Grabbing the back of his shirt with one hand, he ripped the offending garment off over his head. His undershirt came with it.

  Their mouths separated for half a second, then she dragged his face back to hers, kissing him with just as much fervor as he was kissing her. They tasted each other deeply, sharing their breaths. She stroked him, her hands warm as they traveled in never-ending patterns across his flesh.

  He pulled her T-shirt upward until it caught in her underarms. Without prompting, she raised her arms and he whipped the shirt off, tossing it aside as they continued to kiss. Her breasts were still covered by her undergarment, but he left well enough alone for now. He caressed her back and shoulders, pressing her against his chest and abdomen.

  His pulse throbbed in his ears, the rhythm much too fast. He felt lightheaded and restless, desperate for something she was not nearly ready to give. He wrapped his arms around her and eased her down onto the sleeping bag. Her knees parted and then her thighs as she made room for him between her legs.

  A memory stirred, surging to the surface of his passion-muddled mind. He’d thought the images were fantasies when he first caught her scent. Now he wasn’t sure. His mother was a powerful psychic and he occasionally had flashes of insight, uncontrolled glimpses into the future or the past. Had the images been prophetic? He’d seen the sleeping bag clearly in the second psychic flash, but the third had been more sensory impression than vison. He had no doubt he’d been inside her and she’d welcomed their joining, but her surrender could be weeks, even months from now.

  The possibility that he had psychic confirmation of their eventual bonding fueled the fire already burning inside him. He drew her hands above her head and held them there with one fist. She immediately tugged against his hold and protested with throaty noises. He ignored her objections and found the clasp on her bra, thanking the gods that it was in the valley between her breasts. The annoying device opened and he slipped his hand beneath the loosened cup to cover her breast. The soft mound fit perfectly in the palm of his hand.

  It felt so good he groaned and she quickly turned her head.

  “Let go of my hands.”

  The sudden tension in her voice drew his gaze to her eyes. “I won’t hurt you. Ever.” He loosened his hold, but didn’t let go.

  She stilled, then licked her lips. “I wasn’t done touching you.”

  That might be true, but it wasn’t the only reason she didn’t like being held down. “I’ll let go, but you have to stop touching me if you want me to keep my promise.” He paused, making sure she understood the significance of his statement. Their gazes clashed and she looked as if she’d argue, so he tried a different approach. “I’m too close to the edge, love. I need you to cooperate.”

  She relaxed beneath him, her fingers unclenching. “All right, then kiss me again.”

  “In a moment,” he promised then reached for the snap at the top of her jeans. They stared into each other’s eyes as he slowly lowered the zipper. “You said your panties stay on. You didn’t say anything about your pants.” He grinned and let go of her wrists so he could grasp her waistband with both hands.

  For a second, he thought she’d protest, but then she lifted her hips, allowing him to pull her jeans down and then off. Her legs were well-shaped and smooth, perfect to wrap around him while their bodies were joined.

  He automatically reached for the fastening at the front of his pants, but she shook her head and caught one of his wrists. “Yours stay on. You promised.”

  Damning himself for a fool, he nodded and guided her hand back into place above her head. Then he covered her mouth with his, rewarding her compromise with tenderness. This would be so much easier if he could hear her thoughts and sense her emotions. How did humans live like this? It was so limiting.

  She tilted her head to the side and returned his kiss, obviously content with this level of intimacy. Unfortunately, he wasn’t. He needed more, so much more. He rocked back onto his knees, lifting his chest off her and allowing his free hand full access to her breasts. He gently squeezed the mounds, then teased the nipples until they gathered into hard little peaks. The points felt so intriguing to his fingers that he had to experience them with his lips.

  So he kissed his way down her neck, licking and nipping as he went. She gasped and arched, pushing her breasts toward him in a silent offering. He caught one nipple between his lips and sucked until she moaned. Her lips tasted wonderful, but her nipple was even sweeter. He moved to the other side, captivated by her body’s response to his attention and the sexy sounds she kept making when something pleased her.

  He swept his hand across her quivering abdomen and eased it between her thighs. Heat sank into his fingers along with the realization that her panties were soaking wet. Lust spiked inside him and his cock bucked against the material confining it. His groan was part pain, part need.

  “I’m wet, aren’t I?” she whispered against his lips, sounding uncomfortable with the development.

  “Very.”

  “It’s been a really long time since anyone touched me like this.” Now she sounded embarrassed.

  He growled and nipped her lower lip. “I’m your mate, Rebecca. No one h
as ever touched you like this and no one else ever will.”

  Concern flickered in her expressive eyes and she started to say something. Unwilling to risk compromising the momentum they were building, he silenced her with a deep, demanding kiss.

  His fingers moved against her folds and he cursed the material separating him from her heat. He’d agreed to leave the cursed panties on, but he hadn’t said anything about working around the barrier. With his mouth still plundering hers, he slipped his hand inside her panties.

  She caught his wrist and tugged. Her attempt was halfhearted at best, so he ignored her. He could bear ending this interaction without enjoying his own release, but he’d be damned if he’d leave his mate unsatisfied.

  “Let me,” he whispered against her kiss-swollen mouth. “You need this and so do I.”

  She tensed as his middle finger slipped between her folds, but she released his wrist with a helpless little sigh. She stared into his eyes, and rocked against his hand as he gently caressed her clit.

  He watched her closely, thrilled by the wonder and obvious pleasure taking over her expression. She bit her bottom lip and her thighs began to tremble as her orgasm neared. “Come for me. Come for your mate.”

  Flicking her swollen bud with a bit more pressure, he sent her over the edge. She gasped and arched against his hand, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

  He should stop now, let her relax, but her scent was overwhelming. He drew his hand out and sucked her cream off his fingers. Big mistake. Jarring hunger, ripped through him, demanding more of the same. He slid down onto his belly and draped her legs over his shoulders.

  “Sedrik, what are you…”

  His mouth covered her slit through her panties and her words trailed away. Her taste transferred through the barrier, faint and unfulfilling. Unable to help himself, he gathered the offending material to one side and pushed his tongue into her folds.

  “That’s cheating!” Her hands flew to his head, but his tongue found her clit and she failed to shove him away. She moaned softly, assuring him she didn’t want him to stop.

  He explored her cream-slickened flesh, reveling in her taste and in the knowledge that she needed him as badly as he needed her. She pushed her fingers into his hair and angled her hips, giving him better access to the center of her body.

  Desperate to be inside her with any part of him, he shifted his arms so he could reach between her thighs. The material of her panties made it difficult, but he slipped two fingers deep into her core, then focused on her clit with his mouth.

  She came almost immediately, so he continued, pushing her to an even higher peak. She rocked her hips, driving herself onto his fingers as he licked and carefully sucked on her clit. A fresh rush of liquid arousal coated his fingers and trickled onto his palm. She was literally dripping for him, only for him.

  Her taste filled his mouth and her scent filled his nose, his lungs, his very being. He wanted her pleasure more than he wanted anything else in the universe, except for claiming her, making their union complete.

  “Oh God!” She threw back her head, breasts thrusting upward as pleasure gripped her again. Her inner muscles rippled around his fingers and he prolonged the wonderful spasms with his tongue. She shook and moaned, then shook some more.

  He lifted his face from between her thighs and watched her drift back down. He’d thought she was beautiful before, but lost in passion, she was glorious.

  * * * * *

  James Dayton, better known as Big Jim, reached into his pocket and withdrew a keycard. His hand trembled badly as he tried to slide the encoded card through the reader, so he paused and took a deep breath. He much preferred communicating with Abaddon via laptop or even when Abaddon appeared as a hologram. But Jim was an ambassador, and ambassadors were the only humans allowed to see the Evonti’s true appearance. Not that seeing an Evonti in the flesh was a reward. One glimpse at their amphibian features and soulless black eyes could trigger Jim’s nightmares and panic attacks for weeks.

  The door swung inward suddenly, making Jim gasp.

  “I don’t have all day. Get in here!” The warbling, reedy voice echoed inside the hotel room, making the shabby space even less appealing.

  Slipping the keycard into his pocket, Jim crossed the threshold. He fought to keep his gait steady and his features calm. The Evonti despised weakness and often disposed of anything or anyone they found unworthy. Jim knew from experience how ruthless the Evonti could be. His heart thudded so hard that he thought Abaddon would hear it, so he drew air in through his nose and released it through his mouth.

  “You reek of fear, human.”

  The door slammed shut behind Jim, even though Abaddon stood across the room. He was shrouded in a hooded cloak that concealed everything but his gleaming black eyes. “Is Thea Cline dead yet?”

  So much for the pleasantries. Jim had to clear his throat before he was able to speak. “Not yet, sir.”

  “Why not?”

  The force of Abaddon’s displeasure rocked Jim back and made his eyes water. “The battle born are protecting her. We can’t get near enough to—”

  “Try harder! Bribe whomever needs bribing or slit some Rodyte throats. I really don’t care how you do it. I want that bitch dead, now.”

  “Understood, sir. I’ll see to it myself.”

  That seemed to pacify him. The cloak rippled. Had he crossed or uncrossed his arms? “Station Five. Is the portal operational yet?”

  This was the question Jim had been dreading. Five of the six stations he’d been assigned had to be activated simultaneously for the final objective to be met. And thanks to the battle born destroying the portal on Lunar Nine, he no longer had a spare. Station Five had been badly damaged by the L.A. incident, but the rubble was easier to access than finding a ride to the moon.

  The deadline for completion on Station Five had been nineteen days ago and still the engineers failed to complete the task. This was the third time he’d had to make excuses for their work and he was unlikely to escape punishment this time.

  He started to perform the speech he’d been practicing for days as he waited for Abaddon’s summons. Abaddon snarled and raised one spindly hand. “Don’t bother. You obviously failed—again.”

  “Yes, sir, but we know what’s wrong and—”

  Blinding pain stabbed into Jim’s brain, forcing a shrill scream from his dry throat. His knees buckled and urine soaked the front of his pants as his entire body convulsed violently. The cramping pressure released just as abruptly and he collapsed on his face, moaning as Abaddon circled him.

  “Of all my ambassadors, I had the highest hopes for you.” Abaddon kicked him in the ribs, but Jim was already in such pain the blow barely registered. “You have proved to be the biggest disappointment.” He moved around Jim in a slow circle, kicking him in-between each step. “You failed to recruit enough men to drive off the Rodytes.” He kicked him in the shoulder. “Failed to kill Thea Cline!” Another kick, harder this time, followed by another complaint. “You failed to breed!” Kick. “Failed to convert your female!” Kick. Kick. Jim braced for more abuse, but the next kick never came. For a long time all he heard was Abaddon’s wheezing breaths, then one final threat. “Fail me again and I will end you.” Without another word, Abaddon teleported out of the room.

  Jim lay on the dingy carpet in a pool of his own piss, unable to move, barely able to think. Abaddon meant every word, and Jim knew there was nothing he could do to stop it if Abaddon wanted him dead. Jim was an “ambassador”, a chosen servant of the Evonti. Chosen by them. Jim didn’t want any part of this.

  He’d grown up on stories of evil aliens who kidnapped helpless humans. His father swore he’d been abducted and studied, that he’d endured torturous procedures, pain worse than death. And Jim hadn’t believed any of it—until the Evonti abducted him too.

  He experienced everything his father had undergone and so much more. Apparently, the Evonti had learned and adapted their techniques because Jim’s father
had died a few months after his abduction. Jim lived, all the while wishing he were dead.

  He’d been fifteen when they first snatched him. His mother patiently listened to his semi-hysterical story, then dismissed it all as a bad dream brought on by his father’s “ridiculous” stories. Jim had just about convinced himself she was right, when he was taken again.

  After his fifth episode, he realized no one believed him when he spoke about what happened during those horrible hours, or was it days? Even those who swore they had an open mind about aliens eventually rolled their eyes or treated him with such condescension that he wanted to scream. So he stopped trying to make people believe what he told them. The only exception was Rebecca. She at least attempted to understand. And her kindness had nearly gotten her killed.

  He’d been thrilled when the battle born revealed their presence to the world. They’d proved that aliens were real, and suddenly Jim wasn’t quite so crazy.

  The pain gradually receded, leaving merciful numbness. He still couldn’t move, but at least his mind was beginning to clear. Unfortunately, Abaddon’s rant sent a stream of images looping through Jim’s memory. You failed to recruit enough men to drive off the Rodytes. Guilty as charged. One of the reasons the Evonti had chosen him was because of his family’s connection with the military. Why bring an army to Earth and risk Evonti lives if they could convince humans to fight their battles for them. So Jim had gone through the motions, as he did so often. There was no other choice when the Evonti could activate their implants and ascertain his actions at any time night or day. He was a prisoner in his own body, and any disobedience was punished with excruciating pain.

  Failed to kill Thea Cline! Abaddon’s second charge was accurate too. Jim had sent his men on several wild goose chases to ensure they didn’t find Thea. Now she was protected by the battle born, giving Jim a legitimate excuse for failing to kill her.

  Eventually, Abaddon would run out of patience and Jim would die in agony. But for now they were locked in a stalemate. Abaddon needed Jim’s contacts and Jim was powerless against Evonti control. If Jim tried to expose them, he would die in agony. There was no way to escape. The implants tracked his every movement and allowed them to eavesdrop without warning.