Heart Thief

by Robin D. Owens

  She saw hot desire roll through him, tensing his muscles, putting a predatory male attitude in his stance. He reached for her and she caught both his hands, gripping them tightly. “You make me forget who I am, what I am. With you I can be simply a woman.”

  “Not simple,” he grated.

  She lifted his fingers to her mouth as he had so often done to her and kissed them, one hand, then the other. Then she inhaled his scent—man and mint and the tang she now recognized as Earth machine or Nuada’s Sword. Her tongue curled around one of his fingers. He shuddered. She smiled again. His hands gripped hers, and she knew he’d take charge of the lovemaking—as he had always done—if she let him. If she let him, he would swamp her senses with such delicious sights and scents and sexy phrases and sensual touches that she’d lose herself. If she let him, he would pleasure her.

  But she wanted to pleasure him.

  He pulled away.

  “No,” she whispered.

  He jerked and stiffened and she knew he would instinctively believe he was being rejected. She could teach him to trust her—his body, mind and most of all, his emotions—had she the time. But she didn’t think they’d have the time.

  Too long, she’d thought too long instead of acting, and his face had frozen. He inclined his head.

  She flung herself at him, grasping his shoulders and dragging herself against his hard aroused body to taste him at the base of his throat.

  His arms circling hard about her. “What?”

  “My turn. You’ve always given to me, Ruis Elder. It’s my turn to give to you.”

  “Huh?” He took a couple of steps backward, looking stunned.

  She tapped a finger into his chest and grinned, lifting her chin. “It’s my turn to pleasure you, to make you dizzy with delight, to give you the night of your life.”

  Heat flared in his eyes, and a flicker of disbelieving wonder. “Just the thought of you makes me dizzy with delight.”

  Her mind was swimming again. She took a deep breath. She wanted to do this. His glance fixed on her breasts.

  She slid her hands up his shirt, once more feeling the odd weave of his tunic. She plucked at it. “What is this stuff?”

  He shrugged and encircled her wrists with his fingers, remaining silent.

  With a finger she touched the insignia on his shoulders. “Captain of Nuada’s Sword.” Laughter escaped her again. “I am seducing a starship Captain. Ooooooooohhhhh!”

  “You do that just by being you.”

  She shook her head, glorying in the feel of her hair loose from tight braids. “You won’t distract me.”

  “No?” His teeth gleamed.

  “My turn to play with you.”

  He scanned her and his features sharpened. He licked his lips. “Do it, then.” It was almost a dare. His insouciant attitude again.

  Her hands dipped to his waist. He sucked in his breath. She savored the view of him first, his lean waist with a red-brown line of soft hair that disappeared into his trous below. She gulped, then searched the waistband of his trous for fastenings.

  He breathed raggedly. Her own nipples peaked. She glanced at his face and found his intent gaze fixed on her, studying her expression and reactions.

  “I want you,” she said starkly.

  Ruis’s eyes closed. “We want each other.”

  How could Ailim have deserved such a tender lover? A man so giving, one with noble blood who played no noble games. For a wild moment she wanted to fall on the grass and pull him with her and have him on her and in her and moving hard.

  She took a long, deep breath to slow her wildly beating heart, and continued her study of him, marveling at his sculpted biceps, muscular shoulders, strong neck. His head was set at a proud angle, but there were small white scars all over him.

  “Oh, no!” she cried out, touching one.

  He flinched. “Don’t think of it. They’re the past, they don’t matter. Over and done with.”

  She tried. Told herself to dismiss the past, live in the moment. “Bucus will pay for hurting you,” Ailim whispered. Bucus should have paid long before.

  He flinched again at his uncle’s name.

  “Now is time for loving,” she said, moving her palms up his solid body and over his nipples. Her whole mind focused on him. She rubbed his nipples and he stiffened, braced his stance. She smiled again.

  When she took her fingers from him, his breath caught on a groan. She chuckled. She wanted to feel his biceps, the inherent sinewy curves that were less marked than his chest. She caressed his hand, each finger, then inserted his index finger into her mouth.

  Now he groaned. She swirled her tongue around it, sucked it hard, letting the taste of him fly and circulate through her body and make her ready for loving.

  “Have mercy, woman!” Ruis said, face taut.

  She kept the suction of her mouth tugging at his finger as she withdrew it slowly. “No.”

  “Ailim!” He clasped her hands and placed them firmly at his waist.

  She looked down him, at where he’d placed her hands and then further down his body. And smiled again, delight unfurling. “Oh, yes,” she said, cupping his thick sex, “I’m learning how to play.”

  His chest gleamed now with a trace of sweat, and she liked it. She’d had power all her life, the power of a noble woman, a FirstFamilies GrandLady, a Judge whose decisions changed lives, but none of this power made her as giddy as she felt now.

  The power of a woman who was sexually desired by a potent man.

  He reached up to curl her hair around his fingers, tug gently. “We’re wearing too many clothes,” he growled.

  She’d never noticed the nerve endings in her scalp before—how they tingled when a man played with her hair. A sparkling sensation spread like champagne bubbles through her. Sweet, hot anticipation prowled at her core—an ache that she welcomed, knowing this special man would bring her relief and release as no other.

  “Too many clothes. Oh, yes.” Her voice sounded breathy. She wasn’t sure what to do. She wanted to explore his bare skin thoroughly, but his shaft lengthened and pulsed with every second that passed. She hadn’t ever spent hours learning a lover, and Ruis was so fascinating already without the additional benefit of magnifying her senses, that she didn’t know where to start. The crinkly hair of his chest and little velvet nipples—her free hand swept up his torso to experience those textures once more. When she grazed his nipples, he groaned and his sex jumped in her other hand.

  Feeling his sex turn steel-like was so intriguing—the heat of it, the throbbing pulse, the shape of it emphasized their differences—man and woman.

  “Here.” He guided her hands to his waistband. “The fastenings are a lot like our tabs.”

  She glanced up and knew she’d made a mistake. His mouth looked hard, his eyes burning. For the first time he appeared like a real outlaw, a banished man with no respect for rules or law or gentler things. It excited her beyond belief and she couldn’t understand it. Craving was stamped on his features and his nostrils flared as he caught her feminine scent.

  With one glance he amplified her need to addiction.

  His fingers guided hers in opening his trous. They fell away. Though the material had appeared and felt thin, the garment was lined and he wore nothing underneath.

  She stared at his erect flesh. He enthralled her. She pressed her thighs together to ease—or stoke—the yearning.

  She licked her lips, her glance fixed on his member. “Step out of your trous.” A fine trembling gripped her and she knew she wasn’t going to be able to do all the things she wanted to do to him—trace him with her fingertips, taste and lick him. No, that ambition was beyond her tonight. With jerky movements she tugged off her blouse and trous, shimmied out of her breastband and pantlettes.

  They stood naked in a green paradise, in a place she never knew existed.

  “Now?” It was more a question than command. Sharing. She’d wanted to give, but this time, as the times before, they
would share in the loving. When she raised her gaze to his, it pierced her and her knees weakened so that she had to grab him to stay standing. “I can’t pleasure you the way I want, not tonight. Maybe next time.”

  His teeth gleamed in a wicked grin as he curled his hand around her wrist and drew her down to the grass with him. “Next time.”

  Ailim fell on him and the masculinity of him swirled her wits away. Only sensation existed, only her most primal instincts guided her. She slithered up him, skimming her skin against his. She moaned and stopped to taste the bulge of his arm, his nipple, nip the cord of his neck.

  She caressed his hair as she rubbed herself against him, letting the contrasting textures stroke her, heat her, incite her.

  When the pressure between her legs became insistent, she swayed against his hardness, teasing them both with rocketing anticipation. The scent of their damp bodies readying for mating made her breathe deeply, making her wetter.

  His shaft slid against her—outside, and then outside wasn’t enough. He had to be in. And he had to be on. She rolled off him and little, cool grass stalks tickled her back and she moaned with delight. Her hand fisted in his hair brought him with her, and with one smooth glide he was hot and throbbing inside her and she exploded.

  Not enough.

  “More,” Ruis said. His eyes had darkened to black. His tongue invaded her mouth and she opened wide, letting him take whatever he wanted, so he would move in her and fill her and flood her with exquisite sensation.

  He slid in and out of her. Easy, quick. Not enough. “More!” His legs tensed and he plunged into her. Fast friction, hot throbbing, pleasure spiraling high, but not enough.

  “MORE!” he yelled.

  She arched under him, felt his fingers clench around her bottom as he thrust.

  Release burst upon her and she screamed.

  “Ailim!” One more lunge against the very depths of her and his groan matched her scream. He pumped against her, his seed spilled, and they collapsed together.

  For long moments they stayed together. Ailim blinked and tears rolled from her eyes. The shattering ecstasy had been beyond anything she’d ever imagined, and she knew he’d stolen another large piece of her heart. How was she going to survive this—this enrapturing freedom of her senses and return to the shields and stiff responsibility of her old self?

  She inhaled brokenly. He pushed up on his arms to move off her, and she couldn’t bear it. “Stay with me.” At least for a moment longer, deep inside her body.

  “I’m crushing you.”

  She shook her head and more tears leaked from her. She stroked his back, tensile with strength. “A woman likes to feel a man’s weight on her sometimes,” she said.

  He braced himself on his arms. When he met her gaze, the tender lover had replaced the primitive male claiming his mate. “Does she?”

  His words made her understand that he hadn’t had any great relationships with the opposite sex, either. Another thing in common—their inherent talents ruining regular sex, let alone anything richer that involved the heart as well as the body.

  HeartMate, she thought.

  They lay there like that for some moments, until Ruis finally rolled off and cradled her next to him. “And sometimes a man needs to sleep with a woman close,” he said huskily.

  She grazed her head against the hollow of his shoulder, then settled into his arms as if there was no other perfect place on the whole planet. “Is that so?”

  “Hmmmmm?” In the next breath he was asleep.

  Ailim could have stayed awake and thought about the night, all the ramifications of her own and Menzie’s actions, all the weighty responsibilities that awaited her with the morning sun, but instead she closed her eyes and cherished the feel of her lover, letting the quiet beat of his heart lull her to sleep.

  “WARNING!” boomed the Ship. A screeching siren jolted them awake. “Potential intruder alert. Warning. Potential intruder alert!”

  Adrenalin poured into Ruis and he jumped up. “What?” He pivoted but saw only the peaceful Greensward. “Stop that alarm and moderate your tones!” he commanded.

  The signal ceased, but Ship continued with its warning. “Potential intruder alert, Captain Elder.”

  Ailim rose to her feet and rubbed her face. “What’s wrong?”

  He kissed her, briefly, hard. “Ship, what do you mean by potential intruder?”

  “There are life-forms moving through one of my disabled sections, the lowest level of my northwest quadrant. Those are the farthest environs from our current working area. To conserve energy for our online systems, the Captain and crew, we have not powered that zone up. We speculate that these intruders are from Outside. They could be detrimental to you and to the Ship.”

  “Yooowwwwwwwlllllllllll!!!” The new screech came from Samba on her saucer, rocketing through the Greensward. The vehicle halted to hover before him at chest level.

  Ailim stood in her undergarments, outer clothes forgotten in her hand, mouth open. “Lady and Lord, what is that?”

  Samba angled her ears in pride. Samba’s Saucer.

  Ailim scowled at Ruis and shook her clothes as if admonishing him. “Did you build that for her?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “No. She found it herself and had one of the droids fix it. Ship had put her on an exercise program.”

  Samba sniffed. My toy. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Best toy in whole world. She lifted her nose in smug queenliness. My sire Zanth now always beneath Me.

  “The intruders!” Ship’s tone rose in volume and pitch.

  Samba growled. They followed Me. ME! They dared. Her vocalizations grumbled so that Ruis couldn’t comprehend them.

  “Who?” he asked sharply.

  Samba twitched her mouth and Ruis knew she was forming her words with care. Holm Holly. Tinne Holly. They come in through one of my best hidey-ways.

  Sixteen

  “Fligger,” Ruis swore. Ailim flinched beside him and put on her clothes. He cursed more luridly under his breath and nailed his Fam with his stare. “Did you go out of the Ship in that saucer when I told you not to?”

  The fat calico wouldn’t meet his eyes.

  “You did, didn’t you.” His heart started pounding as his mind scrambled for ideas.

  Samba sniffed and looked away. Her silver collar gleamed in the light. Best play is with the waves on the Ship beach.

  “I thought I told you not to go out of the Ship in that saucer, so you wouldn’t call attention to yourself, to me, to the Ship.”

  Samba’s back rippled. Rules. Rules everywhere. Celta rules outside. Ship rules inside. Your rules. Me do what I please. Like you. You ignore rules outside. Me ignore all rules.

  “Here.” Ailim shoved his clothes at Ruis. “You need to leave here and Druida at once. The Ship is part of Druida proper, and you have broken your banishment edict. Go, and I’ll take care of this.”

  “No. I won’t go. The Ship is my home, and refurbishing it is my calling.”

  “Just go for now!” She started waving her hands in a pushing motion, her face creased with worry.

  “I won’t let you handle this for me.”

  “If you don’t leave, you could be caught and executed!” She was almost jumping.

  “And the Hollys are just the sort of men to shoot their blasers first and deal with the mess later.” Ruis thought of his workshop. He had a couple of knives there. But no blasers, or long-distance weapons. Hell, he couldn’t even use a sword with any competency. The Holly brothers could carve him to pieces. “Ship, what sort of personal weapons do you have for Captain and crew?”

  “Crew can use her saucer as a ram.” Ship’s speech sounded flat and atonal. “The Captain has an armory closet in his quarters, but the pieces have not been utilized for four hundred years.”

  “Great.” He grabbed Ailim’s hand and hauled her toward the omnivator. “Time for you to go.”

  She dug in her heels. In an action he’d never thought himself capable of, R
uis hefted her up and over his shoulder. She squealed and pounded on his back. It hurt a little, but not enough to deter him. She poked her fingers into his butt.

  “Youch!” He set his teeth and kept on walking.

  “You listen to me, Ruis Elder, Captain Elder. I am not going. I can cope with the Hollys.”

  He reached the omnivator. Samba’s saucer bobbed in with them. It was crowded. “Captain’s quarters,” he ordered. He let Ailim slide down his body, tantalizing him, reminding him of hours before and the loving that might never come again. His jaw ached from gritting his teeth. He pushed her against the soft wall and cupped her face between both of his hands.

  “You won’t leave?”

  She shot him a lightning-blue glare. “No.”

  He shook his head in amazement. Even mussed and with wrinkled clothes, she looked every inch the GrandLady.

  She crossed her arms.

  Ruis realized he was grinding his teeth again and stopped. “All right. I’m not sure what we’ll do. But you can stay.”

  “Thank you,” she replied in a cool voice.

  “Ship, where are the Hollys?”

  “They found an omnivator. It took them to the top level of section 42, passage 390. That section is slightly southerly from their entrance and has adequate reserves of power.”

  The door to the cubicle opened, but Ruis didn’t get out. “Take us there at once.”

  “This omnivator does not attach to that level and section.”

  “Wrong. It does.” Ruis pounded a fist on the wall. “I am the Captain. If you want me to remain here in the Ship as Captain, you will follow my orders.”

  The omnivator lurched and zoomed upward at such an angle that Ruis and Ailim were thrown to the corner of the car. Samba’s howl was earsplitting as her saucer bounced against the walls.

  The cube jerked to a halt and the doors opened. No sooner had they disembarked than the doors snapped shut and the omnivator whooshed away. He didn’t know what the Ship was up to, but his foreboding increased.

  He strained to hear. Nothing. The hallway was dim and shadowy. It stretched only a few meters both before and behind them before turning. The scent of ancient dust and Ship metal was strong.