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Page 6


  She glared at him. Finally, a little of the woman he knew was back. “It’s not like I’ve had a choice in this.”

  “Right,” he bit the word out and slapped the door open. “After you, Commander.”

  Instead of moving, she put her hands on her hips. “Are you going to take me to the Judge of Light?” He could and she knew it. He wouldn’t, but if he chose to nullify the contract because she refused to cooperate, he could take his revenge on Celeste. It was his right. Somehow, it infuriated him she implied he would.

  “No,” he said through gritted teeth and yanked her into the corridor. “We’re going to see what you’ll do when you’re given a choice.”

  Chapter Five

  Not adapting well. In the past, Alex had written these words for soldiers who responded to crisis with weakness or hesitation. Now, she could use these words for herself. She’d been hesitant, ineffective and stupid. Faced with a crisis, she let the enemy throw her off.

  Desperately, she attempted to build her crumbling courage. The idea of Celeste with Antony Gregor made her blood run cold. The man was a killer, a hater of women. Celeste wouldn’t last a month with the asshole. Hell, she wouldn’t last a month with this asshole. Alex shot a sidelong glance at Tory Ingle.

  Why couldn’t he be a big, ugly brute like Gregor? It would be easier to reject him, toss his offers back in his face. Instead, her pride lay in tatters and she couldn’t seem to find that reservoir of strength that had made her respected among her men. Instead, this…mercenary manipulated her with sex, with lust.

  Shame made her stomach sour. It wasn’t like her to pass the buck. To hurt him, she’d called what happened between them rape rather than admit the truth.

  She’d wanted him.

  He hadn’t had to work all that hard to get a response from her, either.

  Humiliating.

  Others passed them in the corridor and she glanced at them briefly. Several officers nodded to Tory and then, surprisingly, to her. “Commanders,” they’d said.

  Rumors after Tory had been exiled had labeled him a criminal. She’d collected every bit of information she could without revealing her intense interest. He’d cheated every businessman who served the royal family. He’d double-crossed Dividaon Teran Four, who’d put a price on Tory’s head. He’d raided a corrupt Teran Five corporation’s space station and sold its goods to the highest bidders. The stories about his crew were outrageous. They were cutthroats, only interested in money, without loyalty.

  But the people she saw on this ship seemed well-trained, taking pride in their appearance and following military precision. The respectful demeanor of the non-officers showed their loyalty to Tory. And it seemed by their salutes that their respect extended to her, as well.

  After the fourth crewman showed her this courtesy, she asked Tory, “Why are they respectful to me? Aren’t I the enemy?”

  “You’re my mate,” he answered. “They’re proud to have two of the best Teran One officers in charge of their ship.”

  She blinked. They were? Who the hell were these men? She’d thought they were criminals, outcasts, thieves, murderers.

  Tory opened a door to a large exercise room. Pads covered most of the surfaces. Various weapons were on two of the walls and she noted the console inside the door had a myriad of controls. This was a military-issue training program. She didn’t want to know how Tory had gotten his hands on it.

  The door snicked closed behind her and she whirled to face him. He stared at her as he verbally programmed the security controls. “Ingle, level ten security. No access except by vocal command.” He stepped to the center of the room, his blue eyes challenging her. “You can’t kill me or you’ll be a prisoner in here. The only person who might be able to get you out is Dink and he won’t be too sympathetic to you.”

  “So I still have no choice,” she sneered.

  “Oh, you can hurt me, maim me or make me bleed, you have the right. I give you my word that you can do anything you want except kill me.”

  She cocked her head and studied him. Did he mean it? Because she wanted to make him hurt. She hated the helpless feeling he’d inspired in her since he’d captured her shuttle. He was handing her the means to escape this prison he’d created.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because you say you had no choice,” he said and clasped his hands behind his back as if he stood at attention.

  “You mean because I said you raped me.”

  His blue eyes blazed. “Yes.”

  “And you’re giving me a chance to kick your ass.”

  He stalked her. She retreated, but circled so he didn’t back her into a wall. His voice was low and menacing. “I’m giving you a chance to surrender gracefully.”

  Her chin shot up. “And if I don’t you’ll nullify the contract and go after my sister.”

  The way his eyes narrowed made a shiver run down her spine. “See? That pisses me off.”

  “I’m crying for you,” she said sarcastically.

  “After Baslet and Wysister? I can’t believe you’d think I would betray Teran One. And I can’t believe you’d think I’d want your Goddamn sister.”

  In a way, he was right. At both those battles, she and Tory had stood side by side, fighting the enemy. He’d never balked or complained. He fought smart and he fought to the death.

  Didn’t he understand that to believe him back then, she would have had to disbelieve her brother, her family? “My brother—”

  He changed the subject. “Here’s your chance, Commander. Disable me. Take me out. Hurt me. It’s what you want. If you win, you go free to get killed by some asshole on Teran One.”

  She licked her lips. There was so much at stake here. Part of her wanted to get back to Teran One and protect Celeste. Part of her wanted to lose. Surrendering to Tory, being his mate, wouldn’t be so bad, would it? She shook her head. What was she thinking? She was going to kick his ass.

  But he was as well trained as she had been. She needed an advantage. Then a very wicked thought occurred to her. Slowly, she unzipped the borrowed uniform she wore.

  His gaze remained steady on her face as she slid the material down her body. He appeared unaffected, but she didn’t believe it for a second. His pupils dilated and his breath came a little faster. Gotcha. The cool air in the room made her nipples tighten. Adrenaline made her heart beat faster. Naked, she had no barrier against him except for her fighting skills. Goosebumps rose on her skin and her breath caught.

  She assumed her fighting position, her hands raised, her feet apart. For a moment, he stared at her, unmoving. Then, he removed his t-shirt and tossed it aside. His pants he left on, but he kicked his shoes off and faced her.

  They circled each other and she watched for weakness. The fucker didn’t seem to have any. His arms were muscular and tight. His stance showed absolute vigilance, his abs rock-hard. The only chink in his armor was the telltale bulge between his legs.

  She made her first move. The blow, aimed for his carotid, never made it. He deflected it and his answering blow was a shock.

  Flat-handed, he smacked her exposed breast.

  The sting shot through her and warmed her body. Oh shit. It turned her on. How the hell did he know that? Shaken, she whirled around and aimed a blow to the inside of his right thigh.

  This time she connected, but only to his hipbone, which made her hand throb dully. Again, he answered with a slap to her left breast and again, pleasure and pain combined, making her nerves sizzle and her heart skip a beat. Her breath hitched and she backed away, wary. Her nipples tingled in a dangerous, titillating way.

  She swallowed. This was going to be harder than she had thought.

  Breathtakingly fast, she whirled toward him, feinting with her right hand and using her left foot to aim for his balls. He grabbed her hand, deflected her left foot with his other hand and pinned her to the floor.

  Beneath him, heat snaked along her skin. He slid his knee against her clit and she jerked, el
ectricity sparking through her. Desperate, she maneuvered her hip and foot to dislodge him.

  He jumped away and they circled each other again. She gasped for breath. A heaviness began to seep into the muscles around her pussy. This time, he initiated the attack and his hand was a blur. She managed to avoid his bruising blow to her upper thigh by blocking it with her wrist but the strike numbed her hand.

  Her body twisted and turned, her foot aimed for his kidneys. He managed to duck down so that she caught his hard upper arm. He gripped her ankle with his right hand and swung her across the room.

  She hit the floor with a thud that jarred her bones and she tried to jump back on her feet.

  And collapsed.

  Tory waited.

  She dragged her body back up and raised her hands. Damn it. He was fucking good.

  Adrenaline shot through her and she let out a yell as she attacked him. This time, she controlled her blows, seeking an opening to disable him. He met every strike, every move. She increased her speed and he responded in kind.

  His hand connected, open palmed, to her breast. Like before, it stung so good. Then again, and again, until she wasn’t sure if she was deliberately letting him do it. Every time she struck out at him, he outsmarted her and got behind her defenses. Soon, she struck out of lust and fear rather than staying focused on beating him. He let her get close, making her think she had a chance to gain the upper hand, and then, he’d smack her in that erotic way until she couldn’t think straight. The pain, the pleasure, the rush increased her blood flow.

  She changed tactics. Her next blow scraped her nails across his neck, not to wound, but in a slow drag to tempt and taunt. When his next move was to slide his fingers across her clit, she gasped and her pussy clenched. In retaliation, she slid her naked breasts over his arm and reveled at his quick intake of breath.

  It wasn’t combat anymore. Not to kill. Another battle was underway. She rushed him, kicked out and ran her toes over his bulging cock with controlled pressure. He growled and she laughed, exhilarated. She whirled her leg around for a kick she knew he’d avoid, but he’d get a great view of her pussy lips as she flew at him.

  She missed, as she’d thought she would, but he followed his dodge with a smack to her ass. Stars! Who knew she’d love that? She glared at him and attacked again, this time aiming lower, for his ribs. He caught her leg with both hands and slammed her down on the floor, his arm flat across her nipples and his other hand sliding up her leg to the junction between her thighs.

  Thoughts of killing him seemed to disappear when his fingers dipped into her slick channel. But she couldn’t let him win that easily. She rolled away and they both crouched, knees bent. His eyes glittered and his chest rose and fell with harsh breaths.

  She sprang to her feet, whirling and turning, her hand and left leg all directed at Tory’s body. He deflected one attack after the other and somehow, she ended up flat, face down, on the floor. Tory straddled her, his hands on her upper arms, his knees at her hips. “Yield.”

  “No.” She shifted and tried to free her body from the evocative pressure of his. His cock dug into the back of her thighs through his pants and she struggled against his hold and her desire.

  He jerked her hands behind her back and held her wrists with one huge hand. His other hand did something she both anticipated and dreaded. He delivered a sharp slap to her ass. Like before, it stunned her and melted her to the core. She groaned. Shit. How could she fight him when he knew, he just knew, all her dark secrets?

  He spanked her again and the heat of it spread over her skin and through her veins. Two more and her ass was on fire, making her squirm—not to escape, but to receive more. His fingers stroked her skin and she arched her hips into his touch.

  The next strike was harder and she cried out in desire, not pain. He stopped.

  “No!” she blurted out.

  He leaned down until his lips were by her ear. “Tell me what you want, Alexandra.”

  She knew exactly what he asked. There would be no denying it later. Her breath stopped.

  He released her wrists, allowed her to escape, freeing her to make the choice. Desire or pride. Him or her deniability.

  “Please,” she begged.

  He flipped her over, his broad shoulders towered over her, his body barely touching hers, but the heat scorching her. “Please what?”

  “Please touch me, fuck me,” she said with her eyes closed. She couldn’t look at him. Her pride, her courage, all failed in the face of her need for him.

  “Open your eyes, Alexandra,” he demanded.

  She met his gaze. The burning she saw there stoked the fire in her lower belly. Need. His whole expression screamed it. She arched her back and her hips slid along his, her pussy touching the hard outline of his cock.

  He moved his hand slowly, winding his fingers through her hair, unbraiding it, until he reached her scalp. “Say it.”

  She swallowed. “I am your Saria. I choose you.” Those words cemented what had already been done. It signaled her willingness. And man, she was willing.

  He tipped her head back and lowered his head until his lips reached her neck. His teeth scraped along her skin and her nerves jumped and danced. His tongue slid over her collar bone until she thought she’d scream in frustration. This slow seduction was going to kill her.

  Everything she did to spur him only slowed him more. She thrust her hips to meet his and he pinned her to the floor with his legs. She squirmed beneath him and he tightened his hand in her hair as a warning. Any minute, her whole body was going to spontaneously combust, she just knew it.

  When he blew a hot breath over her taut nipple, she whimpered. Whimpered! He kissed the valley between her breasts rather than take the nipple in his mouth and she growled. “Damn it, Tory.”

  He raised his head and the grin on his face made her want to deck him. She lifted her hands and rested on his shoulders and the grin on his face disappeared, obviously wondering if she would shove him away, deny the pledge she’d just made. When she twined her fingers in his hair, he closed his eyes briefly. He blew on the other nipple and resisted the pull of her hands to close the gap between his mouth and her aching flesh.

  If he didn’t do something, she was going to die. Her hips, still held immobile by his body, shifted restlessly, her pussy wet and needy.

  Finally, he flicked his tongue over her breast and she moaned. Then, he sucked it into his warm mouth and she couldn’t breathe. Magic. His mouth was magic. Faster, harder he sucked her until, suddenly, her orgasm hovered close. When his teeth caught her nipple as his tongue wrapped around it, she dropped over the edge. His mouth branded her, owned her, and she reveled in it. Her pulsating core arched toward his cock, desperate for him to complete the connection that had clicked into place. Her scream echoed in the room and her body writhed. Oh stars! No one had ever made her come from sucking her tit.

  He raised his head, his face dark and forbidding. He still had his hand twined in her hair and he angled her head with a jerk that made her dizzy. “You belong to me, Alexandra Zeerah.” He growled the words.

  She wanted to deny it, but she couldn’t. Not when she had to bite her lip to keep from begging him to finish her, fuck her, complete her. And what was this warm, safe feeling when he said it? It both frightened her and thrilled her.

  But all her thoughts scattered when his mouth descended and took possession of hers. Any thought of resisting, had there been any, disappeared when his tongue thrust inside her mouth, claimed her. She returned his kiss, receiving him enthusiastically. Her hands buried in his hair, her body beneath his, his mouth fused to hers all sent her flying into another world where nothing mattered but this moment, this man.

  The tangle of tongues and limbs seemed to go on forever, but he broke the kiss to stare at her for several seconds. She stared back. His stare challenged her and he seemed to be waiting. What was he waiting for?

  Did he need her to say more? Do more? Maybe he did. With shaking fingers
, she reached down and yanked on the buttons of his trousers. She shoved her hand inside and stroked his hard length, her gaze never leaving his. When she said she surrendered, she had meant it. Her hand pumped his cock and he groaned, his hips moving to increase the speed.

  “Alexandra,” he groaned, and his eyes drifted closed.

  While he was distracted, she shifted and flipped their positions. Her hand gripped his cock and he tumbled onto his back until she straddled him. His hands grabbed her hips as if he were going to toss her off him, but she kept the firm strokes on his penis.

  There was only one way to show him, prove to him, that she meant it when she said the words. She let go of his cock to grip his pants, yank them off his legs and toss them away. She met his gaze with hers briefly. His expression was wary, uncertain, and filled with intense desire. She bent down, her hair drifting over his thighs, and slid her tongue over the length of him. His hips jerked and his breath stuttered, the sound of it spurring her on.

  Focusing on the moisture at the tip of his cock, she licked it and then dipped her tongue deeper. His groan made her pussy throb. If he could go excruciatingly slowly, so could she. She savored the taste of him, the feel of him. His hands fumbled in her hair, all his earlier finesse gone as he tried to increase the pressure of her mouth on his cock. She chuckled and he made a guttural, feral sound that made her heart pound. If she belonged to him, this proved it went both ways. Pure sexual satisfaction rippled along her nerves.

  Finally, she took almost all of him into her mouth, reveling in the way his hips lifted and his head dropped back. She swallowed, the tip of his cock at the back of her throat, her eyes open watching every expression on his face. He moaned and she sucked him in harder. His hands stroked her head frantically and then, he gripped her hair and yanked her head away.