The combot swung. He ducked, nodding approval. “Much better.”
Ivar turned, whistling softly, and walked away. It was a good thing Wulf couldn’t see his smile.
Since Galar was the senior officer on the strike team, he spent the next two days working on the plan to capture Marcin. He met repeatedly with the Enforcers as well as with Dyami himself, trying to work out every contingency.
Jess found the process a fascinating experience. Galar was an entirely different man when he was in officer mode, an icy strategist who considered every detail, no matter how small. Whenever he spotted anything he considered a weakness in the plan, he worked on it relentlessly until he found a solution.
But as the planning continued, Jessica’s sense of foreboding began to grow again. Something was going to go badly wrong; she could feel it in every cell.
Yet she had no logical reason to believe Galar was headed for trouble. The battle plan he’d put together allowed for every contingency, including fifty Xeran Marines showing up instead of the ten they expected.
Logic didn’t seem to matter. The premonition scraped at her consciousness like a sweater made of sandpaper, flaying her nerves until she wanted to scream.
Two hours before he was scheduled to leave on the mission, she snapped.
Jess lay curled up on the bed as Galar cleaned his armor and weapons in preparation for the mission. He held his helmet on his lap, steadying it with one hand as he used a buffing cloth to clean the faceplate of any hint of oil or dirt. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of snugs that clung to his hips. Every move he made sent muscle rippling in his arms and torso. His expression was intent, his profile sharp as he looked down at the helmet. A lock of blond hair fell over his golden eyes. Her fingers itched to smooth it back.
Jessica watched, fighting to contain her brooding restlessness. She jerked her twitching shoulders like a restive horse. “I don’t want you to go.” The words burst out of her without her conscious intent. “Stay home with me.”
Galar looked up from the helmet, quirking a brow. “You know better than that. I organized this mission. I’ve got to lead it.”
Jess sprang restlessly to her feet, unable to contain the need to move. “Something’s going to go wrong. Somebody’s going to get hurt. Badly.”
He frowned, watching her pace. “What makes you say that? If you’ve thought of something I haven’t, I’d like to hear it.”
At least he wasn’t dismissing her worries out of hand. “I don’t know what the problem is, Galar. I just know there is one.”
He put the helmet aside and picked up the chest plate, his expression thoughtful. “We’ve done everything we can to minimize the danger.”
“I know that.”
“So why are you still spooked?”
“Damned if I know.” She frowned, rubbing a palm over her tingling nape as she strode from one wall to the next. “I just have this feeling.”
Galar gazed at her, then put the chest plate aside and rose to step up behind her. He caught her gently by one arm, arresting her restless pacing, then turned her around and drew her into his arms. “It’s going to be fine, Jessica. I’ve been going into situations like this for years, and I’ve always come out on top. Even when the odds were a lot worse than one to one.”
For a moment she let herself relax into the warm shelter of his arms. He felt so damned good against her, solid and strong, hard with muscle. Every breath she took carried his scent, spicy and male, with a trace of some alien musk. She sighed and twined her arms around his neck, threading her hands into the cool blond silk of his hair.
He might die today.
The thought skulked into her mind on cold, skeletal feet, and she shivered, tightening her grip around his neck.
She tried to banish it, but she knew that for all his strength and science, he was only mortal.
He could die today.
A chilling image flashed through her mind: Galar’s face, roaring in rage, a spray of blood painting his skin. It wasn’t just imagination, either—she could literally see it, smell the blood, hear his bellow of pain and despair and fury.
It was going to happen. She knew it, could feel the truth of it beyond any hope of denial. If he went out there today, he would suffer for it. Suffer trying to protect her.
He could die today. For me.
No!
The bottom dropped out of her heart in a sickening swoop of pain. Never mind that she hadn’t even known him a few days ago. The thought of never touching him again, never feeling his warm strength against her body, never hearing his deep rumble of a voice or experiencing the tender ferocity of his lovemaking—it all filled her with a bitter sense of loss.
“Don’t leave me!” Her fingers fisted in his hair as she closed her eyes against the rise of tears. “Don’t go!”
His arms tightened around her. “It’s just for a few hours at most. Wulf will make sure nothing happens to you while I’m gone.”
“I’m not worried about me, dammit. In fact, take Wulf with you. I’d feel a lot better if he were watching your back instead of mine.”
“But I wouldn’t.” His arms tightened around her. “I want to know you’re safe even if everything goes to hell and Dyami has to jump in with reinforcements. Wulf can handle just about anything. At the very least, he can Jump you to safety.”
But what about you? Her eyes squeezed shut on the furious wish that she could make him stay with her, out of danger. She remembered those fierce moments he’d made love to her and imagined him wanting her so desperately he couldn’t stand to leave. Couldn’t stand to go among the people that meant to kill him.
Deep within her, a burning core of energy began to swirl and swell, strengthening itself on her fear and the love she had yet to acknowledge. Growing hotter and more intense with every heartbeat.
Until it rushed outward in a sudden furious blast.
Galar held her in his arms, surprised by the velvet tenderness that filled him. She felt so delicate, so fragile, yet she held on to him with surprising strength, as if to protect him against whatever it was she feared.
He could almost imagine she loved him. . . .
Something came pouring out of her. He felt it storm, tinging, burning, from her chest into his, stealing his breath, freezing his heartbeat.
An instant later his heart began pounding again, in a furious thundering rhythm, as he hardened. His cock jerked and filled with hot blood, his balls going so tight he could only gasp in erotic surprise.
His last rational thought was What’s happening . . . ?
Then even that was gone, and his awareness flooded with her. The smell of her skin, the soft curves pressing against his abruptly ravenous body.
She pulled away, and her smoky blue eyes met his, shimmering with fear for him—and a ravenous need of her own.
Galar groaned and took her mouth.
11
Jess opened for Galar, kissing him back, her lips like sun-warmed rose petals. He thrust his tongue into the wet haven of her mouth, moaning with the desperation of his arousal. She tasted impossibly sweet, yet so intoxicating his head swam.
He had to have more of her. Had to touch her.
Catching the hem of her tunic, Galar jerked it off over her head. Jess smiled up at him with shy hunger, standing there dressed only in thin, flowing trousers and a tiny bra that cupped the pretty hemispheres of her breasts in cream lace.
Unable to resist, he traced the tips of his fingers over the skin rising above the scalloped edges of the bra. “Sweet Mother,” he breathed. “You feel like silk.”
Jess’s pretty mouth quirked as she pressed close, one hand cupping him. “And you feel like granite.” Slender fingers explored the shape of his erection through the thin fabric of his snugs, tracing his cock’s central vein up to the thick, rounded head. Her thumb smoothed across sensitive skin, and he shuddered in need. Watching his face, Jess licked her lips, her blue eyes going dark and smoky. She was breathing fast, and her heart p
ounded against his fingertips.
With a low groan, he bent and took her mouth again, kissing her long and deep, fingers stroking her nipples as they tented the lace cups. He could get drunk on the taste of her lips alone. The bold little tongue sliding into his mouth made an animal growl of hunger rumble in his chest.
He ached to taste those stiff nipples, wanted to feel her roll against him like a petted cat.
Breathing hard, she stepped back and reached between the swell of her breasts to flick open the bra’s clasp. Lace cups sprang apart. She caught them in her hands, barely keeping the delicate flesh veiled. A teasing roll of her shoulders spilled the straps off her arms, but still her long fingers concealed the pretty tips he ached to see.
Galar reached out and took her hands, drawing them away so he could slip the bra off. The scrap of lace and silk dropped unnoticed from his hand as he stared at her. Sweet, pale mounds tipped by rosy little points that lifted and fell with every eager breath. He inhaled deeply, drinking in the delicate musk of aroused woman as he feasted his eyes on her. “Sweet Mother, you’re beautiful.” His voice sounded hoarse to his own ears.
Her grin flashed. “You ain’t so bad yourself.”
“Glad you approve.” He leaned down to give one nipple a lick, in the process slipping a hand down the waistband of her trousers and underwear. Her belly drew in under his fingers with a ticklish little flinch, and he smiled around the nipple he was nibbling. Traced a teasing finger around her belly button to hear her giggle.
Smiling, Galar slipped his hand down farther, cupping her softly furred mound, then sliding one finger between her lips. She was already slick there, creaming richly. He thumbed her clit and listened to her sigh.
“Oh, yeah,” she breathed. “I definitely approve.”
“Then you won’t mind if I tell you you’re overdressed.” He drew his hand from between her thighs, caught her trousers and panties, and slid them down her long, smooth legs.
“I’m not the only one.” Jess stepped out of them and kicked them aside before reaching for the waistband of his snugs. She knelt to pull them off, watching his cock bob free, hard and eager. “Yes, that’s much better.”
Giving him a wicked little smile, she closed her cool fingers around the broad shaft. Leaning forward, she took its flushed head into her mouth for a deep, hard suckle that made his eyes roll back in his head. Her clever tongue swirled in hot circles over the very tip, sending whip-flicks of raw delight dancing up his spine. One small, soft palm cupped his balls, gently rolling, sweetly teasing.
If not for the control his computer gave him, he’d have come on the spot. Having no intention of letting it end that quickly, he throttled his reaction back and stroked her hair. It felt like silk in his fingers.
Half hypnotized, he watched his cock slide in and out of Jess’s pink mouth. Watched the way she angled her head to take him deeper, dark lashes fluttering down. He’d never seen anything so erotic in his life.
Slowly, she drew back her head until the shaft popped out of her lips. His breath roughened even more as she extended her tongue for a series of slow licks, as if savoring some exotic sweet.
What was it about her? He’d had other lovers—Warlords were never at a loss for partners—but none of them had ever affected him this way. Some might have been more skilled, one or two might have been more beautiful, but Jess was still . . . more.
It was as though those delicate little hands touched more than his body. As though she reached something buried deep inside him, something still and cold and lonely.
Something that stirred and warmed a little more every time she kissed him.
It was the kind of realization that would have scared the hell out of him a few days before. Now all he wanted was—
More.
Jess had never much enjoyed giving blow jobs, especially not to the one previous well-endowed partner she’d had. She’d always considered the act a bit boring and unpleasant, especially given her strong gag reflex. In fact, she often found herself wishing her partner would hurry up. Come, already!
Galar was different.
He fascinated her: the textures of his cock in her mouth, the shaft so smooth and hot, the nubby velvet of the heart-shaped tip, the softly furred testicles like fat plums.
His reactions were equally delicious. She loved the way that massive body stiffened, muscles jerking in time to her every tongue-flick and suckle. The sense of erotic power was intoxicating. And wildly arousing.
Dreamily, Jess leaned into him as she sucked, running her free hand along his thighs, tracing the elegant shapes of muscle. Her artist’s senses adored his body—its textures, its scents, its tastes. The soft clouds of hair at his chest and groin, each narrowing to the little treasure trail that led between them.
She loved his big hands, too, so broad and square, with those long tapering fingers now tangled in her hair. Tough hands, calloused and capable. And so wickedly skilled, like that surprisingly tender mouth and wooing tongue.
She could happily spend hours exploring Galar, getting to know every inch of his superman body and wickedly intelligent mind. Discovering what made him moan and tense and come, what made him throw back that handsome head, corded throat working as he shouted his pleasure.
But she didn’t have hours. Soon—too damned soon—he was going to leave her to go into danger. Those Xeran bastards were going to try to kill him today. And there was nothing whatsoever she could do to protect him.
On a despairing moan, she drew in a hard breath and took him deep, forcing his long shaft as far down her throat as she could. Trying to lose herself in him, drown her fears in his delight.
Forget. Forget and build a memory that would be with her to the end of her days.
“Enough!” he gasped suddenly, voice ragged. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he pulled her to her feet, caught her backside and lifted her into his arms as if she weighed no more than a kitten.
“Galar!” Jess grabbed at his shoulders with a startled little laugh.
The laugh became a moan as he bent her backward. His mouth fastened onto one nipple as if he was starving and she was his only source of food.
And then he began to tease. Gentle scrapes of the teeth, swirling licks, and long, drawing suckles that shot sweet little darts of pleasure along her nerves.
Moaning in delight, she clung to him, losing herself in sensation. His broad shoulders felt warm and smooth under her hands, his flanks firmly muscled against her calves as she wrapped her legs around his butt.
He didn’t seem to feel her weight at all.
His cock jutted between their bodies like a promise, hard and hot and satin-smooth. Jess couldn’t wait to feel him drive it inside her. Her core ached to be filled, flesh slick and swollen tight. Maddened, she rolled her hips, teasing them both with the friction of her sex against his.
He growled something, his voice rumbling as he licked slow circles around each nipple, pausing to dole out wicked little nips and teasing rakes of the teeth.
She whimpered helplessly and let her head fall back as he closed his mouth over one for yet another hungry suckle. Pleasure sparked along her nerves like points of shimmering light dancing just beneath her skin.
“Now,” she gasped, rolling her hips again, starving for his deliciously searing entry. “I don’t need any more fore-play! ”
“Yes, dammit,” Galar gritted back. “You do!” He closed his mouth over one nipple with such luscious ferocity, she could only writhe. The motion caught his cock beneath her body so it pressed against the seam of her lower lips, tormenting her with images of grinding thrusts.
Maddened, Jess leaned back and reached for the big shaft to angle it for entry.
“No,” he growled, tightening his grip on her ass, not letting her have the distance she needed to impale herself.
“Galar, please!” she groaned, squirming.
“Not yet!”
Cunning, Jess reached between her thighs, touched her own wet heat—and traced h
er glistening fingers along his lips. “Now!” she demanded in a hot whisper.
He groaned, growled, and lifted her to impale her on his cock in one hard, ruthless rush. They both shouted at the pleasure of the sudden penetration.
“God,” Jess moaned helplessly, “you fill me so full. . . .”
“Just wait,” he growled, and began to roll his narrow hips, working his cock in and out of her fist-tight wetness.
Jessica shuddered and bent backward in his supporting grip, grinding hard to meet him. Clinging to his biceps, she watched him in a haze of furious need. The tendons of his neck stood out in hard relief, and his gloriously powerful torso rolled as he fucked her in those ruthless thrusts.
Each long pump seared her, raked her inner flesh deliciously, sent delight driving through her in hot spikes. But even more glorious was the look on his face, the half-blind ecstasy, the grimace of mingled effort and building orgasm.
Her own climax shivered just out of reach, spurring her onward. Driven, Jess lashed her body in his arms, impaling herself, seeking that last perfect degree of pressure that would . . .
She screamed as it hit in a burning deluge, drowning her in light and fire. He stiffened, throwing back his head in a raw animal roar.
Yet even as the sweet pleasure stormed through her, Jess was aware of a dark whisper of dread.
The Xerans will try to kill him today.
Finally the last blazing pulses faded away, leaving her clinging to him, panting and sweating as she listened to his slowing heartbeat.
“Seven Hells,” he groaned at last, slowly pulling her off his now-limp, sticky cock. “That was amazing. And I’m going to be late.” He sat her tenderly down on the bed.
You’re going? Somehow she bit the words back as she watched him turn and duck into the bathroom. Headed, no doubt, for a desperately needed shower.
Of course he’s going. The thought held a trace of bitterness. Galar Arvid was not, after all, the type of man who’d let a bout of great sex keep him from doing his duty.
At least his knees were visibly shaking as he walked into the head. That was something, anyway.
Warrior Page 15
