There was much to do, and no time to care for her properly, her body or her heart—yet the thought of leaving someone else to tend to her made him ache to kill the very doctor he planned to summon. What the fuck was happening to him?
Had he finally gone mad? What was he now? An animal?
“Isabella.” Her name came out a plea. His hand was on her shoulder before he registered the move, his thumb running along the tender curve of her spine in desperate need to offer comfort. To touch her. To feel her softness. Afraid she would refuse him, he was prepared to argue, to caress, to seduce. He was even prepared to beg.
He was not prepared as she launched into his arms and claimed his lips. Unprepared for the ferocity of her attack. She clung to him, wrapped her legs around his hips and devoured his lips with a need as fierce as his own. Triumph, swift and fierce, raced through him. The instinct to possess her, take what she offered was too powerful to resist.
He flipped them around so he could place her back against the door they’d just walked through as she tore at his clothing, her lips never leaving his.
“Isa—”
“Shut up and take your clothes off.” She took advantage of the brief break to pull her shirt off over her head and drop it on the floor. If this was the last time she was going to see him, she was going to make the most of it. “Now. I want you inside me now.”
He didn’t need to be asked twice. The tone of her voice allowed for no denial. She needed. He would provide. Anything. In that moment he would have given her anything that was his to give.
Jerking his shirt off over his head, he lowered his pants to free his aching cock. He didn’t have time to step free of the clothing before she leaped into his arms, naked except for her bra, the remnants of her pants and panties hanging from one ankle where she had not taken the time to kick them free.
“I want you.”
How long had it been since he’d heard those words, just those words? He was someone to everyone on this base. A Lumerian Elder, older and more powerful than the others. A commander. A protector. A leader. A Knight. A warrior. Not an individual. He was something more and something less. He was a soldier and a servant. Never just a man.
“Falden. God. Please!”
But not to her.
The wet heat of her core pressed to the tip of his cock, and she threw her head back, her long neck exposed as he shifted to settle her onto his hard length.
She may not have known what she was doing when she lit his markings, but to him, right now, in this moment, it was real. “Mine,” he ground out. “Take me. Every fucking inch. Take it all,” he commanded.
Spreading her legs wide to accommodate his massive size, she moaned. Every thick inch was both blessing and curse as her hot center enveloped him, stretching to the point of pain. She welcomed it. Wanted all of him deep inside her.
“My Bella.”
“Stop talking and fuck me.” Her soft command rocked through him as if she’d given his cock a direct order, and he pumped into her body, thrusting harder and faster as she cried out, her fingers twisted in his hair, her cries of pleasure driving him into a wild frenzy. He pushed them both. Her body milked his with every orgasm, yet he didn’t relent. More. More. Deeper. Harder.
Small teeth nipped at his chest, and his cock jumped as a keening cry left her throat. Seconds later her pussy clamped down on his cock so tightly they both let out a shout, the rhythmic pulsing of her inner muscles a torment he could endure forever.
“Come inside me. Come now.”
Another command, yet he obeyed his sexy siren without a second thought, his body going rigid as he pumped his seed into her wet heat. Took what she offered. Claimed her one last time.
Bliss. Terror. How could he let her go? After this…
When they were both panting and exhausted, he carried her to the sofa, his hands gentle under her ass, his body still buried deep within her. Connected. He couldn’t bear to part from her. Not yet. So he settled them both on the sofa, her cheek on his chest.
Gentle as a butterfly’s wing, she traced one of the swirls on his shoulder with a fingertip. “Why do I want you so much?”
The question was filled with an agony he recognized all too well from his own tormented thoughts. They were not meant to be together. Apparently, she knew the truth as well as he did. “I want you as well. Yet we are not meant to be.”
That comment cost him his place inside her as she shifted atop him, moving up his body so that her lips hovered above his. “And why is that? Your king married a human woman. Is there some kind of rule against Caldorians and humans I don’t know about?”
“No. I am not—” Cutting off the comment, he altered course, cursing himself for falling too easily into telling this very dangerous woman the truth that he was not Caldorian at all but Lumerian, an ancient, powerful and hunted race. “I am not free to take a mate.”
Her gaze locked with his and he could see the strain, the fine lines of pain around her eyes and mouth. Obviously, the pain of her headache lingered, but the determination he saw behind the pain fascinated him all the more. She was, after all, an investigator. What the humans called a reporter. She was one of the most fearless humans he had ever encountered. “I have other duties that must take precedence over my personal needs or desires.”
“But do you want one?” The question was explosive, and he recognized it as such. He was prepared to lie to her, to give her the answer that had tumbled from his lips for nearly a millennia, but then she spoke again. “Tell me the truth, Falden. Do you want a mate?”
“Yes.” The truth. “I want you.” She sighed and leaned down to kiss him. When she lifted her head, the softness in her gaze made him long to grant her every wish, every desire. To never let her go. “But I can’t have you, Isabella. I can’t take a mate.”
“Okay.” She pulled away sadly and set about fixing her clothing, making sure everything was back in its proper place. “Fine. But tell me where the bad guy is. You have to let me talk to him.”
As if she had yanked the information directly from his mind, he had to literally bite his tongue to prevent himself from telling her. His response was a shake of his head as he rose to put his own pants back to rights.
She dressed, pulled her hair up and twisted it into some kind of knot at back of her head. He longed to loosen the strands, run his fingers through them, strip her slowly and take her to bed. Spend hours lost in her body, not the few moments they’d stolen.
“Falden. Just tell me where he is. I’ll be quick. I promise.”
“Second floor, interrogation room at the end of the hall.” Why the fuck had he just said that? “Isabella, no. What are you doing?”
“I earned this. I have a right to talk to him. Please, stay here and don’t try to stop me. I know you don’t understand, but trust me when I say that I don’t have time to sit around and wait. I can find Sevron on my own.”
“No!” He shouted his denial as she walked toward the door, but he could not move, his body in a state of paralysis.
What. The. Fuck? He tried again. He really couldn’t move. Not to follow her. Not to chase her. Not to stop her or warn Dagan that she was on her way.
“Did you use the maju paste? Bella? Did you lie to me?” Fuck. Her headache. The pain in her eyes. “Are you feeling sick? Feverish? Are you seeing things? Answer me?”
She ignored his questions. “Stay here and don’t try to stop me. I’m going to go get some answers from our prisoner.”
Unease turned into terror, not for himself but for her as he realized what was happening. Somehow her voice was becoming a powerful weapon. And for some reason, she’d lied to him about the maju paste. She was changing. Evolving. And unless he did something, she was going to die.
The sound of the door clicking shut behind her was like an ice pick going through her skull, but she ignored the pain and made her way down the long hallway to an elevator. Once inside, she saw that there were two sets of numbers. Other than that, the buttons
were pretty self-explanatory.
Hoping she was choosing the correct one, she pressed the number two on the first set and braced her hands on the rails as the doors slid closed. The elevator surged to life beneath her feet. It was fast, her stomach falling as the small box hurtled toward the surface—and her quarry.
She couldn’t stop now. Especially since it could very well be Sevron’s life on the line. Her friend. They hadn’t spoken often, but she knew him. Knew he was honorable. Good. He did not deserve whatever might be happening to him now. Especially if the rumors she had heard about the Blood Market were true.
And if he didn’t know anything about Sevron, he would know about the Blood Market. About the rumors she’d heard, rumors of people dying. Humans dying. Not that King Dagan or the other Caldorians seemed to care about that. But she was human. And fuck them all if they thought she was going to let this one go.
She would make the asshole they’d captured talk if she had to cut off his dick and feed it to him one piece at a time.
Rage fueled the thought, but she was not shocked by it. She’d survived this long, and not without seeing things she wished she could forget. Falden could throw her away, just like her family had, her so-called friends, the gang members she’d run with when she was young. She knew the streets, knew poverty, knew what it was like to live without hope of a better future. And this Blood Market bullshit was not okay.
Yes. The asshole was going to talk. And then she was going to go find Sevron and shut down the Blood Market if she had to call in the FBI, Interpol, China and the Russians to get it done. And no one, not Dagan, not Falden, not a dozen Caldorian guards were going to stop her this time. She was smaller than they were. True. She was female. Also true. But she was not helpless or defenseless or stupid. She knew this city. Knew every rathole, shit show and hiding place in town. She had friends everywhere. Informants. Survivors, like the little boy, Matthew, that she’d grown to love. She knew her way around this city and its underbelly.
Whether they knew it or not, she was the best chance for Sevron’s survival. If King Dagan and Falden weren’t going to listen, she’d make them listen. She was not sitting in that little prison cell watching videos while they went after the bad guys in her city, with her contacts and her intel.
Not happening.
Chapter Nine
The ride up the elevator was eerily silent but over quickly. Thank goodness, because Isabella was about to throw up all over her favorite pair of cross-trainers.
A soft bell sounded as the door slid open on the second floor, and Isabella stepped out of the elevator to find two Caldorian guards standing at attention.
“Gentlemen.”
“Miss. How can we help you?” The voice was friendly, but the stance was less so, both large males moving to block the hallway before she’d taken a single step. Annoying.
“I’m looking for the prisoner brought in two nights ago. The one from the bar attack.”
The first male looked down at her and crossed his arms. “This is no place for a female, nor an outsider. You must be lost. Let me escort you back to the visitor center.” He stepped forward, his arm out as if to herd her back onto the elevator as his cohort watched.
“No. Do not touch me.”
The guard froze, and Isabella felt a thrill at being listened to. Finally! Maybe some of these Caldorians actually had a few brain cells behind all that sexy brawn. Because damn, they knew how to build ’em on Caldor. All muscles and chiseled jawlines and eyes that screamed hot sex.
Well, not this alien’s eyes—they were narrowed, focused and clearly annoyed with her. But he hadn’t moved to touch her again, which was nice.
Falden would have had her against the wall again if she’d spoken to him like that.
And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing…
“Miss? You can’t be here.” The second guard had decided to step in, but Isabella’s head was pounding again, the brief euphoria or endorphins or whatever it was fading fast, just like her patience.
“Take me to him now. I need to speak to him.”
The two males looked at each other as if confused, but neither spoke out against her request. They turned away, leading her down the corridor. At the far end she peeked through a glass door to find the man she’d run over with Falden’s…no, with her car, at the bar. Her car now. He’d given it to her, and she wasn’t giving it back. The traitor was right where Falden said he’d be.
The two guards stopped and stared down at her as if wondering what to do next. The guard closest to her cleared his throat before warning her, “Be careful. He is restrained, but—”
“I know, I know. I am a small, helpless, defenseless female.”
Her sarcasm made his lips twitch with the beginnings of a grin. “I was going to say that the prisoner is dangerous, but your words are also correct. The prisoner is restrained, but you should not get too close.”
She snorted and shooed him away with a wave of her hand. “Go. Go away. I’ll let you know when I’m done talking to him.”
They both nodded and walked back to their posts near the elevator as she opened the door and walked in to face the cruel sneer of her enemy.
Isabella should have been nervous. She knew a modicum of caution was most likely called for in this situation. Unfortunately, between Falden’s refusal to take a mate, his steadfast denial that there could ever be anything serious between them and the feeling of a thousand tiny needles stabbing the back sides of her eyes and constant nausea churning in her stomach, she was out of patience. This bastard was going to talk or else.
What that else might be, she hadn’t a clue, but she’d figure something out on the fly. She was good at getting inside people’s heads, reading between the lines, figuring out what they weren’t saying. Just because this guy was most likely an alien didn’t change that. As far as she could tell, the Caldorians seemed just like humans.
Just taller.
And sexier.
And more infuriating.
“Enough.” She meant the word to be directed at herself, but the male alien chained to the table before her jumped as if startled, his head snapping up like she’d just slapped him across the face.
“A female? They sent me a female?” The bad guy in question actually smiled, apparently pleased with himself. “I’ll have to thank Dagan later.”
“Trust me, you won’t be thanking anyone.” Fury riding her like a jockey on a racehorse, she sat down in the hard metal chair, face-to-face with her enemy.
His strange, shifty yellow gaze was full of hate, cunning and deceit. “You’re human.”
“You’re not.”
“Real genius, I see.” He leaned back as far as the two manacles around his wrists would allow and managed to slump a bit in his seat like a sulking teenage boy.
“Who are you?”
“They call me Skinner.”
Well, that made sense. She’d heard of him around the city. He was the notorious middleman who ran the black market smugglers in her city. A stepping stone for her, which was why she’d worked for months, one contact at a time, to finally get a meeting with him. So he had been there because of her. Which worked well for her plans. He was going to lead her to the real criminals, the power players who ran things planetwide. The big boss. And Falden and his stupid friends had ruined her plans. “I already know your nickname. That’s not what I asked you.”
“Isn’t it?” The scumbag leaned forward and leered at her. “Come closer, sweetheart, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Do you know Crazy Mike?” she asked.
He snorted. “Everyone knows Crazy Mike. He’s fucking crazy. Rumor has it he cut out some poor bastard’s heart just for lookin’ the wrong way at his girl.”
“Glad you know him”—she smiled—“because he owes me one. So you’re going to answer every single question I ask, and don’t even think about lying to me. Understand?”
His eyes grew dazed, the pupils dilating to what seemed an
impossible size. Then he shook his head, blinked twice. Snarled at her. “Stop your games. Don’t try your meager power on me. It won’t work.”
Power? What power?
The sharp pain behind her eyes intensified until it felt like someone was sewing her nerves to the backs of her eyeballs with yarn. Agony. “Tell me who you are.” She didn’t shout. The opposite. But the male before her twisted in his seat as if in an agony all his own.
Holy shit! Was that her voice shimmering through the air? What. The. Hell?
“No! No! No!” Skinner put his hands to his head, rocking back and forth.
The shouting brought the guards she’d left behind at the elevator running, but she held up her hand, trying out her voice. “Stay here but don’t interfere.”
The two guards stopped and watched her as if in a trance. She turned back to the prisoner.
“Tell. Me. Who. You. Are.” She pushed every ounce of pain and anger inside her into the command, thoughts of Falden, of his rejection rising like a flash flood in her chest.
He lowered his head, beating his forehead against the table with a loud, repetitive banging. “No. No. No.”
“Stop.”
He froze, head halfway to the table, and Isabella felt something within her stirring from deep inside her mind. Heat. Fire. Like a buzzing that would not stop. Was this what Sasha had been talking about? Was this what the maju paste did to human women? Was she dying?
Would Falden even care?
That thought was enough to bring her out of her pity party. She didn’t have time for a pity party. She’d do what she needed to do, then go find Sasha, find out what to do about her situation.
“Tell me who you are.” This time she kept her rage locked safely away from her words and made them an entreaty, a gentle request from a trusted friend. “You want to tell me everything. The burden you carry is heavy. Share it with me. Tell me who you are.”
“I am Bhaosz Khenka.”
“Are you Caldorian, Bhaosz?”
“No.”
Alien Knight Blind Date Disaster (Lumerian Knights Book 3) Page 14
