“You’re going to fuck me so I rest, Ace?”
He growled, lifted her, and tossed her over his shoulder. Her breath caught in her chest and she pressed her hands to his back.
“After I fuck you hard, you’ll be exhausted.”
A quiver of desire moved through every cell in her body. “That’s a big promise.”
“I always keep my promises.”
* * *
He gripped Bellamy’s hips, pounding into her tight body from behind.
She moaned.
Drak, Maxon loved having her in his bed, that ass uptilted and thrusting back to accept him.
She slid her arms out on the bed and his gaze raked up the smooth skin of her back.
“Take me,” he growled.
“I am,” she moaned. “More. I’m close.”
He reached a hand under her and thumbed her clit. It only took a second for her to shatter.
Her body gripped on his cock and he groaned. He thrust harder, burying himself deep, knowing his fingers would leave bruises on her skin. But drak, he liked the idea of leaving his mark on her.
Maxon felt his body implode. He thrust deep, holding still as he groaned, pouring himself inside her.
He collapsed on her, but had enough sense to roll off to the side. He was too heavy for her. She turned and snuggled into him.
Warmth filled him. A contentment he’d never felt before. He pulled her close, his hand sliding into her hair. He looked at her face. There was something in her eyes.
“What?” he asked.
She looked away. “Nothing.”
He tipped her face back up. “Tell me.”
“God, you’re bossy.” She rolled her eyes.
He kept watching her, waiting patiently.
“It’s just… I feel safe. I’ve never felt like this before.”
Drak. Her words rocketed through him, and he pressed her face against his chest. “Sleep now.”
He held her while she drifted off. He didn’t need much sleep, and often ended up in his workshop in the middle of the night.
With the scent and warmth of Bellamy against him, he fell asleep quickly.
He woke sometime later to find her kicking and thrashing beside him.
“Bellamy?”
He pushed them up to sit, and when he touched her, she swung at him. Her punch caught him in the shoulder.
He gripped her wrist. Her body was trembling, and she made a horrible sound in her throat.
“Bellamy.” He shook her gently. “It’s a nightmare.”
She blinked, then stilled. “Maxon?”
“Yeah. You awake now?”
She sagged against him, taking in several deep breaths.
He stroked her back, found her skin clammy. “It was bad?”
“Aren’t nightmares always bad?” she asked tiredly.
“Yes.” His own had always started with the look on his family’s faces, watching them walk away, abandoning him. And him screaming, but they never turned around.
“Hey.” She cupped his cheek. “Don’t go wherever you were going.”
“What was your nightmare?”
“The Edull. What else? In it, I’m always trapped in a bot on the arena track.”
He fingered her hair. “That’s not going to happen.”
She smiled and touched his lips. “My personal cyborg will make sure of it.”
“Yes, not to mention, you’re tough and mean.” He rubbed the shoulder she’d hit.
She laughed and he was happy to hear the sound.
“I don’t think I can go back to sleep,” she said.
“It’s morning, although daylight is still a couple hours away.” An idea popped in his head and he slid off the bed. “Come on.”
She put her hand in his and he dragged her off the bed.
They dressed and he led her down, through his workshop, and through another door that led to his own private firing range.
“Oh.” She looked around, smiling.
It was small, with several electronic targets set up against the far wall. The rest of the walls were full of carvings—of gladiators in battle, all of them holding different weapons.
He opened a weapons chest, and pulled out some of his newest prototypes.
“Here.” He handed her a gun. It was made of a dull-gray metal.
“I like this.” She stroked the butt of it.
“Still a work in progress.”
“It’s gorgeous, Maxon. You sure found your calling designing weapons.” She glanced up. “Was it always something you wanted to do?”
His gaze swept over the weapons. “No. My family was rich. I didn’t do anything.”
“It would have been a damn waste of talent, if you’d stayed a lazy, rich man.”
His lips twitched. His life would have been very different, if his family hadn’t abandoned him. He pulled Bellamy closer.
He wouldn’t have found the House of Rone, or his calling as a weapons master. And he would never have met this tough, tattooed woman from Earth.
“I think you’re lucky,” she said. “Maybe what happened, as horrible as it was, was a blessing in disguise.”
He grunted. He’d actually started thinking that himself. “Is that how you feel? About your abduction?”
She gave a small nod. “The thing is, it doesn’t matter. What ifs are fucking useless. We have to make the most of whatever life throws at us. Move forward.” She shot him a sexy grin. “Now, I want to shoot some of these gorgeous weapons.”
Maxon selected a gun for himself and moved up beside her.
“Maxon?”
“Yes?”
“I bet if your family and your high-maintenance ex saw you now, they’d be astounded. They’d regret being elitist, snobby assholes.”
He liked that, but right now, all he cared about was Bellamy. He gave her ass a swat. “You going to shoot, or keep yabbering?”
She went up on her toes and smacked a kiss to his lips. “Okay, okay, Mr. Grumpy. Let’s shoot.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Bellamy held tight onto Maxon’s hand as he tugged her down a busy street at the edge of the District. Acton and Zaden trailed not far behind them. Extra bodyguards in case any of the Edull’s assassins were lurking around.
She really would have preferred to be back in his workshop, keeping busy, or better yet, luring Maxon into doing naughty things. Anything so she didn’t think about the looming mission. She took a deep breath. She wanted to take the Edull and the arena down, but that didn’t mean it didn’t frighten her.
Maxon slowed and she saw they were in front of a building with some glitzy storefronts. He led her inside and she saw that the place wasn’t large, but was home to several high-end stores. The closest one was a jewelry store, filled with glittering display cabinets and lots of rich-looking tourists wandering around.
He towed her past the swanky stores to one at the back. It had a more old-fashioned feel, like it had been there a long time. Its windows were filled with fancy gadgets and electronics, most of which Bellamy couldn’t identify.
With a nod to Acton and Zaden, who stationed themselves at the door, Maxon led her inside. There were shelves of more gadgets made of different metals with blinking lights.
“Wow,” she murmured.
A small, round older man with no hair bustled out of the back room. “How can I help you?” He wore a vest over his shirt and had one metallic, cybernetic eye. It zoomed out like a lens to look at them. “Maxon!”
“Good to see you, Desmon.”
“It’s been too long since you came in and spent lots of credits.”
A smile touched Maxon’s mouth.
The shopkeeper turned to study Bellamy, his organic eye widening and his cybernetic one zooming in even more. “Now, who is this?”
“I’m Bellamy.” She held her hand out.
The man took it and turned her palm up. “Good. A wom
an who works with her hands. Excellent choice, Maxon. No one wants some pretty flower who needs constant attention.”
Bellamy laughed. “I’m definitely more the hardy weed type.”
“But a very attractive one,” Desmon said.
“Aren’t you a charmer?” She tilted her head at Maxon. “You should give him some lessons.”
Maxon grunted. “I didn’t hear you complaining last night.”
She gave him a light whack in his gut.
Desmon let out a chuckle. “I am very happy to see Maxon has come out of his workshop long enough to meet a woman.”
“Actually, I just pushed my way into his workshop and ignored his growling.”
“Hmm, even more fascinating,” Desmon said.
“Desmon, I wanted to get Bellamy a full set of your custom tools.”
Bellamy stilled. “What?”
“Desmon is the best tool maker in Kor Magna.” Maxon turned to the man. “She’s working with me and needs the best. I want them sized for her and made from nanga steel.”
The tool maker nodded thoughtfully. “I can do that.”
“Maxon.” Warmth blooming in her chest, she moved closer to him.
“I want you to have them. You’ll get more work done.”
That wasn’t it at all. Damn, her cyborg had his own kind of growly charm. She went up on her toes and kissed him noisily. Even with the mission to Bari Batu looming over them, life was good.
She wanted this man, this cyborg. She was going to keep him and explore all the goodness of being with him.
He smiled at her, and that small movement of his lips felt like a prize. Yep, her beast was thawing.
“I can have them ready for you in a week,” Desmon said.
“That’s fast,” Maxon replied.
Desmon smiled. “Anything for your lovely Bellamy, and anything for you, my friend.”
Maxon nodded. “Thanks, Desmon.”
“Bring your girl back with you when you come to pick them up. Goes without saying that I am very happy for you, Maxon.”
Bellamy grabbed Maxon’s hand, smiling as they walked out. Her man was getting her some cool tools, he was smiling, and soon, the Edull would be gone. Then they could get on with life.
They headed out of Desmon’s store.
“When we get back, let’s do some work on that crossbow,” she said. “I have an idea and I want you to—”
Maxon stopped moving, his body going still, his face blank. He was staring over her shoulder.
Frowning, Bellamy turned.
A couple had just exited the jewelry store. The woman was holding up one thin arm, admiring some sparkly rings on her fingers. The man had stopped and was staring at Maxon. Then the woman lifted her head and her perfectly painted mouth dropped open.
Bellamy felt a chill sweep through her—harsh and unpleasant.
The man was a few inches shorter than Maxon. His face was bloated and flushed—from too many years spent imbibing. Bellamy knew the look as she’d seen it on her mother’s face. He was…soft. His cheeks were rounded and he was carrying extra weight around his middle. But there was no mistaking that beneath all that, he had similar facial features to Maxon.
Oh, God. Bellamy’s stomach tied itself in a knot and she made herself look at the woman. This had to be Silva. The woman Maxon was once going to marry. She had a cloud of blonde hair, and was tall and slender, like a model. She wore a slip of a dress with a pale pink, iridescent sheen.
“Maxon,” the woman breathed. She looked like she’d seen a ghost. Her gaze ran over Maxon, something hungry igniting as she took him in.
Bellamy felt his fingers convulse on hers, and now she felt something really unpleasant crawl over her.
No. These people shouldn’t even be breathing the same air as him. He was magnificent and they were nothing.
She shifted in front of him, glaring at them. Silva blinked, like she’d only just noticed Bellamy.
“Keep walking,” Bellamy snapped. “Weapons Master Maxon of the House of Rone has no business with you.”
Acton and Zaden stepped forward to flank them, offering silent support. Silva and Maxon’s brother took them both in.
Silva licked her lips, and Erix frowned.
“You shouldn’t even get to see how amazing he is,” Bellamy said. “Crawl back to your meaningless existence, and know you’ll never be as good as he is.”
Erix shifted, the red of his face deepening.
Silva straightened, tossing her hair back. “You can’t talk to us like that—”
“I can do whatever the hell I want. You abandoned him. And despite all of that, he made himself into something amazing.”
Silva’s gaze drifted back to Maxon and she took a step forward.
“Don’t look at him.” Bellamy held up a hand. “Come any closer and I’ll tear your hair out.”
An arm snaked around her waist, tugging her back against a hard body. “Stand down, warrior.” His breath brushed her ear.
“No. I’m going to beat them up, and then I’m—”
Without saying a word, Maxon half carried her out onto the street.
Bellamy realized her chest was heaving. She pulled away from him. “How can you just walk away?”
“Because they don’t matter.”
She blinked. “They ripped your life apart. Abandoned you and made you feel less.”
“And I’m realizing that I’m over that.” He cupped her face. “They aren’t happy. They’re the same empty people they always were, searching to plug the holes inside them with parties, drugs, things. If I’d stayed with my family, I’d be just like them.”
She gripped his wrists. “They hurt you.”
“And you know better than anyone that we use those hurts to fuel us to move on. I took a little longer to work that out, but seeing you deal with everything you’ve been through made me realize I could let the last of the poison go. I have so much more than them. Right now, I’m realizing just how much.”
“Maxon,” she breathed.
“They. Don’t. Matter. They’re my past.” He lowered his head and ran his nose along hers. “I want to kiss you so badly. Stepping in to protect me like a warrior.”
“So kiss me.”
“Not here, because once I start, I might not stop.”
Ignoring that, Bellamy jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist. She kissed him. It was long, deep, and amazing.
“They never deserved you,” she whispered.
“Just as your parents never deserved you.”
Her heart melted. “I really want to get naked with you. Right now.”
From nearby, Acton cleared his throat, reminding her that he and Zaden had enhanced cyborg hearing. Oops.
Maxon smiled. “Let’s go home.”
* * *
Maxon prowled into his living quarters, Bellamy two steps ahead of him.
He’d counted every step to get back to the House of Rone.
“I can’t believe we saw those losers.” She spun, anger setting her green eyes alight. “They were—”
Maxon strode to her and gripped her chin. He forced her to look at him. “My little warrior. Ready to protect me and take them down.”
“Yes,” she breathed.
“I need to fuck you. Right now.”
Her breath hitched.
He gripped the neckline of her shirt and tore it open. She gasped, excited shock on her face. Then he dragged her to the rug on the floor.
He pinned her down and lowered his mouth to one breast. He sucked on her nipple, and moved a hand, tracing down the ink on her belly. She arched up, tugging at his clothes.
It turned desperate. He needed her. Now. Their mouths connected, tongues tangling, and he moved his hands over her, shaping that sexy, compact body.
She dragged his shirt off his chest, her nails raking down his back. “Hurry, Maxon.”
He rose to his knees, not taking his eyes off her. She made a picture, lying on her back, breasts heavin
g. He yanked her trousers off, then he had his hand on her, sliding two fingers inside her.
“Yes.” Her hips rose.
All his.
She let her legs fall apart, her hot gaze locked on him.
Maxon made short work of pushing his own leathers down. His swollen cock sprang free and Bellamy moaned.
“Inside me,” she demanded. “Now. I need you.”
He leaned over her, gripping his cock as he found where she was hot and wet. Then he drove in.
She made a strangled sound, her body arching like a bow. He gripped her waist and held her as he powered into her. Drak, watching her body take his was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.
“Drakking gorgeous,” he growled.
“Don’t stop,” she moaned.
Her cries turned to whimpers, and she held herself open to him, taking him hard and deep. He slid one hand up her body, pinching her nipple. She cried out his name.
His control snapped. He shoved her back and covered her completely.
“Maxon!”
“Take it. Take me.” His hips moved fast, his cock pistoning inside her.
“Yes.” Her nails bit into his shoulders. “Keep going.”
“Not going to stop, Bellamy. I’ll give you what you need.”
One of her hands cupped his jaw. “Maxon.”
There was so much in her voice. He saw on her face that she was getting close to coming.
He angled his hips, felt her body jerk, and knew he’d found the right spot. He ground down with every hard thrust.
She splintered apart, jerking wildly against him, and screamed his name.
Perfect. Maxon kept thrusting, even when her inner muscles clenched tight on his cock. He watched, felt, and listened to her come. He absorbed every bit of sensation.
He wanted to make her a part of him. Pull her inside and keep her safe forever.
“Maxon.” Her mouth found his and she bit down on his lip.
His climax drove down his spine like a spike. He thrust deep inside her and let go. Drak. It was so drakking good. His body convulsed and he groaned her name.
Spent, he collapsed half on her and half off. He felt her hand stroke his back.
“That was awesome,” she breathed. “I love when you go into beast mode.”
Weapons Master: Galactic Gladiators: House of Rone #6 Page 11