It was crazy to be here with him, but the bad would come regardless. It was time to grab for whatever good she could get.
He’d almost walked away. Maybe she should have let him go, but her life was littered with regrets. Whatever happened between them couldn’t end well. She briefly squeezed her eyes shut and pushed away all thoughts of the future. It was crazy to want him, but she wasn’t backing away.
His strength was enormous. He’d carried her from the living area as though she’d weighed nothing. With his shirt off and battlesuit peeled to his waist, there was nothing to hide him from view. Somehow, he appeared even larger naked, as if the clothing were the only thing keeping him civilized.
Primal. That was the best word to describe him. Like a meteor shower, he was an unstoppable force of nature. He was a Gravasian assassin, the most dangerous creature in the universe.
But right now, he was simply a man with a woman.
She ran her hands over his massive biceps, loving the way they rippled when she stroked. His skin was darker than hers, like it was tanned, but the color appeared natural. The muscles of his chest were like titansteel. There was no fat, no give to him anywhere. As she traced her fingers over the broad expanse, she found raised lines in several places.
Dragging her mouth away from his, she sucked in a breath and lowered her head for a better look. His hand tightened on the back of her head before he released her. There were dozens of them, most of them old and faded.
Blinded by lust and his magnificent physique, she hadn’t looked closely, overwhelmed by the sheer maleness of him. Now, looking more closely, it was appalling how many scars he carried.
“So many.” She pressed her lips to one and then another, working her way from one pec to another.
“They don’t matter.” He caught her chin and dragged his tongue across her bottom lip.
She hated how he didn’t seem to care about his own safety. “Of course, they matter. I thought the battlesuit would protect you.”
“It does. They’re from training. You don’t wear one in training. You can’t learn to depend on the suit to protect you in case you don’t have one for some reason.”
“They were done on purpose.” Outraged, she tried to sit up, but he covered her body with his.
“It’s done. This isn’t.” Warm lips skimmed down her neck, leaving moist kisses in their wake. Chill bumps raced down her arm, and her core began to throb.
“That’s so good.” She tilted her head to one side to give him better access.
His groan echoed around her as he worked his way down to her breasts again. His skin was hot beneath her palms. Tenderly, she stroked the hair from his face.
He’d been hurt so much. Please don’t let me hurt him. She didn’t want to, but if it came down to him or her sisters, there was no choice. The children had to come first.
She bit her bottom lip to keep from crying out in pain. Her only sin had been being born with Helldrick as her father. And that wasn’t her doing. She’d been paying for that in one way or another her entire existence.
Kyler dragged the flat of his tongue over one taut nipple. “So good.” Whatever price she had to pay for this night was worth it.
He undid her pants and shoved them down. Her boots were in the way, making it impossible to remove them. “Darn it.”
With a growl that raised the hair on her arms, he dragged her boots off and then her pants. Totally naked, she started to curl her legs inward, the reaction involuntary.
“Don’t.” He placed his hands on her thighs and pushed them down and out. “Let me see you.”
Struggling against her natural instincts, she relaxed, going lax on the bed. He looked massive crouching between her legs. His lungs expanded and contracted as he drew in several large breaths. A light sheen of sweat made his skin glisten. Some men had chest hair but his was smooth. A light trail started just below his belly button and disappeared into his pants.
The bulge there had her swallowing. He was proportional, which meant he was huge.
Now she was the one sweating. Should she tell him she hadn’t done this before? Would he stop if he knew?
Undecided, she gasped when he stroked his fingers over her molten core and brought them to his mouth. He licked them one at a time, his eyes going even blacker, if such a thing was even possible.
Oh, gods. It was erotic and arousing and embarrassing all at once. No one had ever done such a thing to her. She’d never imagined a man ever would. Kyler was unabashedly sexual. Not the least bit self-conscious. And why would he be when he looked like he did. He was sex on a stick and more.
“Sweet and spicy.” He ran his nose up her thigh. “You smell like cinnamon.”
“It’s a soap I use.” She sucked in a breath when his tongue ran over her hipbone.
“It’s more than that.” He settled between her spread thighs, pushing them even wider with his shoulders. The tuft of hair covering her mound was damp. He nuzzled it, totally uncaring. “It’s the soap and your natural scent.”
He tracked his fingers over her slick folds, sending heat blasting through her. Orgasms were easy enough. She’d been seeing to her own pleasure for years. She’d thought she’d understood what sex was all about, even though she’d never gone all the way.
Boy, had she been wrong.
It was as though she’d been on bread and water her entire life and was now discovering a world of mouthwatering flavors. Warm breath coasted over the sensitive skin, followed by the slow drag of his tongue. Her knees pulled up, giving him better access, and her toes curled. “Oh, gods,” she moaned.
One of his fingers circled her opening before easing inside. “You’re tight.” His voice sounded as strained as she felt.
“Don’t stop.” If he did, she might grab his laser and shoot him. Her breasts ached, so she put her hands over them and squeezed. Not nearly as satisfying as when he did it, but it helped.
He pulled his finger out and pushed it in again, going even deeper. She arched toward him. “Yes.” She was panting hard now, poised on the edge.
His lips closed around her clit and sucked. Like a ship blasting into space and hitting the boosters at the same time, her orgasm exploded through her.
She cried out, pumping her hips. Kyler kept on sucking and stroking until she collapsed, her body boneless and shivering. Her hands slipped from his shoulders and dropped to the mattress.
What had just happened?
Kyler sat back on his heels but made no move to touch her. The muscles in his shoulders bunched and shifted. His jaw was taut. His eyes burned with lust.
She could still stop this.
Etta raised her arms. “Come here.”
He shoved his battlesuit down enough to release his cock. Long and thick, the broad head slick, his shaft pulsed with a life of its own.
Before she got a really good look, he was levering himself over her.
“You’re not getting naked?” Somehow that seemed wrong.
“Not safe.” He nudged her legs wider.
This was a man who never relaxed his guard. Not even while having sex. She’d been a puddle, lost in the maelstrom, but he would always be aware.
The head of his erection bumped against her opening. “Etta?” The muscles in his arms quivered, and if his jaw got any tighter, a bone was going to snap.
She brushed her fingers over his chin. “I want you.”
He surged forward but stopped before he’d gone more than a couple of inches. “You’re tight.” Rather than rush it, he began to rock back and forth, going deeper with each thrust.
Her sheath stretched and rippled, struggling to accept all of him. She dug her short fingernails into his shoulders, holding on. It bordered on pain but never quite slipped over. If she hadn’t already orgasmed, hadn’t been wet, it would have hurt.
He slipped one hand under her bottom and lifted her, driving the final distance. They shuddered and held still, both of them absorbing the impact. His cock throbbed inside her l
ike a second heartbeat.
When he started to ease back, she wrapped her legs around his flanks, not wanting him to leave her. Then he surged forward, sending spasms throughout her core.
Then he did it again and again. Faster. Harder.
“Kyler.” She was going to come again.
Hands on her hips, he powered into her, touching the very center of her, owning her body and soul. Head thrown back, he groaned her name as he came. He jerked over her, inside her. For one long second, they peered into each other’s eyes. It was like seeing into his soul. In the black depths were longing and pain and resignation.
Then he blinked and rolled off her, falling onto the mattress beside her.
Shivering without him covering her, she managed to grab one of the top covers that was partially off the bed and flipped an end over her. The rest was caught under them so it didn’t cover her, but it helped.
Panting, she stared up at the ceiling until her heart rate slowed and her breathing returned to normal. Her thoughts were a jumble. It was the most intense experience of her life. It had been everything she’d ever hoped it would be—tender and passionate. Yet, something was missing.
Commitment. They cared for each other, but the outside world seemed determined to keep them on opposite sides.
“Are you sorry?” His voice was rougher and deeper than usual. Lying there, he looked like a sated god. His lightly golden skin gleamed, his tousled hair begged for her touch, and his black eyes were once again shuttered.
“No. It’s better than anything I’d ever dreamed. I had no idea…” He went still while she cursed her loose tongue. “I should get cleaned up.” She started to roll away, but he caught her and dragged her back.
“You’ve never had sex before?”
“Well, I have now. And I have a battery-operated boyfriend who helps.” As a joke, it fell flat. All the satisfaction and sense of well-being bled away, replaced by annoyance. “It’s no big deal. It had to happen sometime, right?”
In a replay of the night he’d broken into her bedroom, he wrapped his hand around her neck. Only this time, his fingers caressed her skin. “You should have told me.”
“Not something that’s easy to bring up in conversation.” She gripped his wrist and he released her. Could this be any more awkward? “Look, we enjoyed each other, so what’s the problem?” It was killing her to act nonchalant about the whole thing. She’d just made love for the first time. She wanted to cuddle, not be interrogated.
Maybe she should have told him, but part of her had feared he’d walk away if he knew. She wasn’t looking for a grand gesture or a declaration of love. That wasn’t in the cards for either of them.
Then why was her chest aching like her heart was breaking?
Falling for an assassin was about the worst thing she could possibly do. Her eyes filled, threatening to spill over. She blinked several times.
Not happening. No way would she let him know how much of her heart he already had, how much this was hurting her.
Have to get away.
“I’ll be back.” When she scrambled for the bathing chamber this time, he let her go. She refused to look at herself in the mirror. Stepping into the gel cleansing unit, she let the spray wash away his scent. When a tear ran down her cheek, she dashed it away with the back of her hand. The drying light clicked on. In under two minutes, she was clean, her skin fresh.
Her robe was hanging on the back of the door. She pulled it on and pressed a hand against her chest. “You can do this.”
Squaring her shoulders, she pushed open the door and stepped into the room, the empty room. Kyler was gone. The chair was back in place. All signs of him being here had been erased.
The girls! She raced to their room, but they were sleeping soundly. A quick check of the front door showed it was closed and locked. Including the security bar, which could only be activated from the inside.
How had he left?
A shiver raced through her. She clutched the lapels of her robe tighter and hurried back to her room. The bedclothes were rumpled. She sat on the bed, leaned down, and inhaled his scent from the pillow.
This time when a tear fell, she let it.
Something caught the corner of her eye. The knife, the one he’d left in the living room, the one he’d taken from her when he’d broken in, was on her nightstand.
Not lying there. No, the point was stabbed into the wood so it stood upright. She pulled it out and gripped the smooth handle. The night was over. They were on opposite sides again.
Chapter Eight
She was a virgin.
Those words beat in his brain, pulsed in his cells.
Or had been.
He paced back and forth in the cargo bay of his ship, which doubled as his workout space. Adrenaline coursed through his veins.
Mine! She’d given herself to him freely. Or had she? Had she been trying to sway him from his path?
No. He’d heard the truth in her voice. Like him, the attraction between them, the bond that had snapped into place during their first meeting had strengthened with each passing interaction.
And what had he done? Like some craven coward, he’d left as soon as she was out of the room. Leaving her knife behind had been a deliberate reminder to them both. He flexed his fingers, missing the weapon, the link with Etta.
The ship’s comm chimed with an incoming message. He strode to the control room and took his seat. “Open communication.”
The king of Gravas appeared on the screen. “Report.”
“Sire.” He kept his expression blank when all he wanted was to growl at the man he’d served his entire life. “Balthazar and his father are still missing but expected to show themselves soon. I have eyes and ears on the entire public area of Hell’s Gate.” And some of the private ones, too. Something he’d done after leaving Etta.
“The father?”
“Helldrick is also involved. Uncertain how but I’ll find out.”
“And the daughter? The older one?”
“I’m still investigating.” He was walking a fine line here. Not lying but not telling the king the entire truth.
The king was in his early sixties, his hair and beard laced with gray, but he was still as imposing as ever. A warrior to his core. He steepled his fingers together, resting his forearms on his chair.
“Find out.” The king scowled, his heavy brows lowering over piercing eyes.
“Yes, sire.” His fingers started to clench so he forced them flat. His face was as impassive as ever.
“Balthazar must die. Helldrick as well if he’s involved. Get me all information about the daughter and anyone else who might be involved. This ends now.”
“Sire.” He inclined his head. The communication ended. “Computer, lock down communication.”
“Locking down.”
He bent forward, burying his face in his hands. Shame burned inside him. His honor was tearing him in two. How could he serve his king, keep his vows, and protect Etta?
And why was he willing to risk everything for her?
A trainer had once told him that every man had a hidden weakness. It was up to him to discover and then conquer his. That was the only way he could be the king’s blade.
There could be no conflict of loyalties.
Throwing back his head, he roared. The cords of his neck strained as he yelled again and again. The rage inside him threatening to eat him alive.
All he could see was Etta’s smile, the trust in her eyes, as he took her for the first, and possibly only, time. Then Maggs with her teary smile and Sera with her resigned acceptance.
His lungs expanded until they hurt, pressing against the walls of his battlesuit.
No one had ever needed him before. He was valuable to his king, but only as a weapon to be pointed and aimed. It was a life he’d accepted and lived with pride.
But was that all he was?
The silence that fell around him was charged. Exhaustion threatened to drown him.
“Am I not a man?” Family was everything to his people. All of them belonged to him, were in his keeping. That was his job. But it was cold comfort. He stayed out here alone so they could live among their families.
Head lowering, his breath came in huge puffs. His fingers wrapped around the arms of his chair. Every muscle quivered, straining for release.
Crack!
The arm broke off on one side. He lifted the piece of metal and dropped it.
For the first time in his life, control eluded him. After springing from his chair, he stalked to the cargo bay and began a series of complex exercises designed to toughen both body and mind. They were meditative, a way to center himself.
They had always worked before.
He executed them flawlessly, but the peace that usually accompanied them eluded him. Ignoring the sweat dripping down his face and the burning in his muscles, he kept at it.
What was Etta doing? Did she have regrets?
“I should have stayed.” Bent over, he pressed his hands to his thighs and gulped in air. It had been cowardly to flee. And that was a bitter pill to swallow. But if he’d stayed, taken her in his arms and loved her again, he might never have left.
Once the king knew of her actions, he’d order her death. All he’d done was delay the inevitable.
He fell to his knees and hung his head. What was he going to do?
His stomach growled. It had been far too long since he’d eaten. And even longer since he’d been in a gel cleansing unit.
He lifted his arm, ignoring the unpleasant smell of sweat. Underneath it was a hint of cinnamon, of Etta.
Everything in him relaxed. She was still alive. That was what mattered.
Could he do his duty by executing her father and brother and any others involved and then turn his back on his home and honor to protect her?
Even if he did, they wouldn’t live long. Assassins would be sent for them. He was good enough to evade them alone. But with a woman and two children in tow, it wasn’t likely.
What were his options?
His record stood for him. It was flawless. He would not taint it. Maybe he’d die. Maybe she would, too. But both of them accepted that. He’d seen it in her eyes.
Kyler's Justice (Assassins of Gravas Book 3) Page 8