Armored Hearts

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Armored Hearts Page 6

by Angela Knight


  Zara blinked. The expression on his face was entirely too grim to go with those words. Whatever he intended, it was a hell of a lot more than a picnic.

  She hesitated a moment, watching him flip up the lid of the locker and pull out a small pack. “Exactly what do you have in mind?”

  He looked up to give her a wicked smile. It didn’t even look forced. “Eating. You do that on a picnic.”

  “I have heard something about that, yes,” Zara said dryly, watching him take items out of the locker and start tucking them into the pack.

  “Good to know you’re not completely uncivilized out here on the ass of nowhere. Boots, lieutenant.”

  Frowning, Zara stepped into the boots and bent to close the seals. Rand, meanwhile, pulled his beamer rifle out of the locker. “You carry that on the base?”

  “I do when I’m escorting a prisoner.”

  “Take many prisoners on picnics?”

  “I do when I plan to eat them.” He put down the weapon and pulled a pair of neurocuffs out of the locker. “Stand up and assume the position.”

  Zara felt a hot spark of desire at the rough command. Swallowing, she turned to cross her wrists at the small of her back. “Which position is that?”

  “Bent over and sucking my dick.” He stepped up behind her and clipped the restraints on.

  As the neurocuffs closed around her wrists, her arms instantly went numb and limp. Kinky or not, she hated walking with her arms cuffed behind her. “You do know the colonel’s not going to like this.”

  “Actually, I just commed him to ask him to sign off on this little outing, and he has no problem with it.”

  She blinked, taking that in. “He doesn’t?”

  “No.” Rand bent to collect his rifle and pack. “I told him I was taking you out to question you about the location of the enemy bases. Somewhere without inconvenient witnesses.”

  “And he bought that?” Zara hadn’t known Rand for very long, but even she could tell that sounded out of character for him. Especially given his views on war crimes.

  “Yeah. Fortunately the colonel expects everyone else to be as vicious as he is. Plus, he’s not the brightest laser probe in the kit.”

  “So how’d he get to be a colonel?”

  Rand shrugged. “Probably did the right favor. The Glorious Army of the Enlightened is built largely on cronyism. Most of the guys who hold high rank helped Godsson set up his giant Ponzi scheme when he hit Heaven thirty years ago.” Heaven, naturally, was the name of the Godssonists’ planet, located the next star system over.

  “You do realize whatever you have in mind is not going to be that easy?”

  “Don’t worry, darling.” He dipped his head to speak in her ear as he took her elbow and guided her out of the tent. “I’ve made plans.”

  * * *

  They approached the guard standing watch over the camp’s landing zone, with its pulse fighters, transports and two seat zippers. The private saluted Rand, the gesture crisp.

  Rand returned it. “Leaving camp with the colonel’s permission.”

  The private’s eyes went distant. Evidently he was using his helmet com to talk to the base computer. It must have confirmed Rand’s statement, because the man came to attention and snapped another brisk salute. “Have a good… lunch, Sir.” His gaze flicked to Zara, making it clear just what he thought Rand would be eating.

  “I intend to,” Rand said, though Zara saw a muscle flex in his jaw, as if he didn’t like the look on the private’s face. Taking Zara’s elbow again, he urged her toward one of the two seater zippers.

  Since her wrists were bound, Rand belted her in, then slid behind the zipper’s flight stick. They lifted off a moment later, repeller fields boosting the streamlined little craft skyward.

  It was a crisp fall day, the sun bright, the sky vividly pink. Falara’s towering fern-trees had lost their bright gold shades as the planet’s version of chlorophyll drained, leaving behind their natural purples and blues. The contrast between the leafy, rolling landscape and the brilliant sky was breathtaking as Rand banked the zipper over the camp.

  Then he eased the flight stick forward, and the zipper shot off into the rose sky, the sun burning golden just over the horizon.

  Rand went silent as he flew, his expression gone so grim again, Zara wondered if she really was about to be tortured. Maybe he thought he needed the information she had to bargain with to ensure his mother’s safety.

  She didn’t want to believe it, especially after the way he’d held her so tenderly the night before. He didn’t seem like another G.A.E. thug, but he was a mercenary. He wasn’t fighting for his planet or his religion. He was getting paid.

  Then again so was she. Probably not as much as an interstellar merc, but still.

  Had she been suckered? Was this whole thing some kind of sick game he was playing?

  She was feeling distinctly paranoid by the time they approached a low mountain range Zara recognized as the Granites. Rand took the zipper down, balancing the craft on its repeller fields. He piloted it right up to the cliff until the stone was so close, Zara started getting nervous. A hard gust of wind could smash the craft against the unforgiving granite.

  Abruptly the black stone in front of the zipper’s nose wavered and vanished, revealing the opening of an enormous cave. The zipper slid into the opening, its landing lights flashing on to illuminate the cave.

  “This is Theta Base,” Zara said, surprised. The Falaran army had moved into the network of natural caves, using it as a base for months. Then the G.A.E. had attacked, wiping out the base and killing all three thousand Falaran soldiers.

  “Yeah,” Rand said absently, as he brought the little craft in for a landing.

  “Andre Miron, my vampire partner, and I visited this base once. It was a pretty good facility, The Falaran army spent a lot of time and money extending the existing cave structure.”

  “Yeah.” Rand grimaced. “We had a hell of a time digging them out. Lost a lot of men doing it, too. Which is why we ended up not using the base, because the Godssonists are superstitious as hell.”

  Zara stared at him as he unbelted and freed her from her own safety straps. “What, they think the place is bad luck?”

  “They think it’s haunted.”

  She blinked at him as she rose to her feet. “You’re kidding me. Haunted? But there’s no such…”

  “Baby, I’m telling you, those people are gullible.”

  “I noticed,” she said dryly.

  “Which is why we’re reasonably safe, at least for the time being. None of the Godssonists are likely to show up here without good reason.” He gave her a wolfish smile. “So we don’t have to worry about being interrupted while we… play.”

  “Ah.” She eyed that smile, not sure she liked the looks of it.

  Rand laughed. “Your eyes are the size of ration disks. What’s the matter, darling, don’t you trust me?”

  “No.”

  “Smart girl.” Taking her by the elbow, he guided her out of the hatch and down the short flight of steps to the stone floor.

  Zara looked around warily. The cave was the base’s secondary landing zone, so it wasn’t quite as big as the main cavern. It could accommodate a couple of smaller transports and a zipper or two. The stone walls and floor were artificially smooth, thanks to the Falaran Army’s laser borers.

  The cavern entrance had disappeared behind the camouflage field again. Looking closer, Zara noticed several round temporary projectors attached to the stone walls.

  Rand put on his helmet and flicked on its light, then slung the rifle and pack over his shoulder before taking her elbow. “That way.”

  Zara let him urge her through a smaller opening in the smooth granite walls into the complex of tunnels and caves beyond. Without his helmet light, she wouldn’t have been able to see at all in the cool darkness.

  “Where the hell are we going, Rand?”

  “I told you, we’re having a picnic.”

 
“In the dark?” She shot him a narrow glance. “I don’t know how you interstellar types do it, but Falarans have picnics outside, in the bright sunshine, where they can listen to the featherlites sing and eat actual food. None of which describes choking down dry emergency rations in a fucking black ass cave.”

  “This black ass cave has something the great outdoors doesn’t -- a complete lack of armed assholes.”

  She lifted a brow at his rifle. “Present company excepted.”

  Rand gave her that wolfish grin he did so well. “You’ve quite the mouth for a woman walking in a black ass cave with a vampire.”

  “Yeah, I’m a risk taker.”

  He moved so suddenly she had no time to react. One minute she was walking along beside him. The next, he’d pounced on her, swept her up in his arms, and dumped her across the shoulder opposite the one with his rifle and pack. She yelped, startled, the sound becoming a screech when his gauntled hand smacked her raised butt. “Hey!”

  “That’s the thing about being a risk taker. Sometimes it bites you on the ass.” He raised his faceplate and nipped her hip.

  She kicked furiously. “Put me down, bloodsucker!”

  “You really are pushing it, entrée.” He popped her on the ass again. “Better be careful, or I may decide to tenderize my food.”

  He was so damned outrageous, she found herself laughing. “You do realize your food may bite back?”

  “God, I hope so.”

  Lying across his shoulder as he bore her through the cave system, she grew aware of how incredibly dark it was.

  And how totally alone together they were. Which wasn’t a bad thing, considering the alternative was being surrounded by the enemy.

  He’s the enemy, she reminded herself. Odd how hard it was to remember that with his big hand riding her ass. “Put me down.”

  He didn’t even break step. “No.”

  Her heart pounded with a delicious blend of excitement, anticipation and a little dread. He can do anything he wants with me out here, she thought. And the thought didn’t scare her a bit.

  Zara thought of Andre, her first vampire lover. He must have been just as strong, but he’d never tried to carry her. Probably because this kind of display was a dominant’s trick, designed to make a submissive aware of his sheer physical power.

  And it was working. She felt aroused and anxious and eager, all at the same time. What was he planning? Another spanking? Maybe he’d make her suck him off while he…

  Rand stroked a big hand over her thigh, the armored glove cool and hard. “You’re going to be delicious.” His voice was a purr of rough velvet, deep and intimate.

  Zara swallowed, remembering the feel of his cock thrusting deliciously deep as he penetrated her from behind. She thought of his hands and mouth and the sweet, stinging bite of his fangs. The copper taste of his blood as he’d fed her, saved her. The man was the embodiment of every vampire fantasy she’d ever had.

  She could just relax and enjoy whatever pleasure he decided to give her. This time there’d be nobody to overhear her screams of ecstasy. Or think she deserved to be punished for the desire they believed women had no business feeling.

  Rand was nothing like that kind of narrow minded bastard. He valued her passion as much as his own. In fact, he went to considerable lengths to intensify her enjoyment in every way he possibly could.

  She could relax while he took control. She was free. Whatever happened afterward, she’d worry about later.

  So Zara relaxed, enjoying the sweep of big hands along her thighs and calves, stroking up to the curve of her ass. Distinctly possessive.

  Rand turned into another tunnel. The opening they’d just walked through vanished behind them, assuming the appearance of smooth stone. Another camouflage field.

  “How many field generators did you plant, anyway?”

  “As many as I need.” He turned right, walked through the cavern beyond and ducked into another tunnel opening, which also disappeared behind a camouflage field.

  “Why did you put all this in place?” She’d love to think it was because of her, but he hadn’t even known she existed until last night.

  “Contingency plans. In war, you have to have plans, and then plans for what you’ll do when the first plan fails. And then a third plan in case the second plan goes out the airlock too. Otherwise you have a tendency to get dead.”

  “So the Godssonists won’t find us until you’re good and damned ready to be found.”

  He nodded his helmeted head. “Exactly. Which means you can relax and concentrate on all the kinky sex I’ve got planned.”

  “Do you have contingencies for that too?”

  “Actually, I’m playing that by dick.” He laughed, the sound wicked. “Luckily I’m a very creative guy.”

  “I noticed.” Arousal rolled through her like heated syrup. What was he going to do with her? What were these kinky plans of his?

  He turned again, and put her down on a soft, yielding surface. A mattress, she realized, placed directly on the floor. Glancing around cautiously in the spill of light from his helmet, she found they were in a stone chamber only a little bigger than his tent. Stacks of boxes stood around them, but she couldn’t read their labels in the dim lighting. “You really are serious about those contingency plans, aren’t you?”

  “You have to be when you work with psychotic assholes.” Noticing that she was tensing, preparing to roll off the mattress, he dropped his voice to a dominant’s growl. “Don’t you move.”

  She froze, staring up at him as he towered over her. The light on his helmet blinded her so she saw him only as a tall silhouette with powerful armored shoulders.

  Rand turned, sliding the strap of his rifle off his shoulder and putting the weapon down. He took the pack off and fished around inside it as he knelt beside the mattress. A moment later he reached for her again, taking her cuffed wrists and spreading her arms wide.

  Sitting back on his heels, he studied her, the light on his helmet sweeping the length of her body. “Mmmm, you do look tasty,” he said in a deep, low voice. “And you’re completely at my mercy. I can do anything I want to you. You can yowl and scream and moan all you want and no one will hear you. My own delicious little picnic.”

  Her nipples tightened against the fabric of her uni as she stared up at him, hypnotized.

  “The problem is, my dinner is overdressed.” Bending, he ran a finger down the seal of her uni from its high collar, over the rise of her ribcage and down to the dip of her navel, then lower still, between her legs. The uni parted, the light on his helmet following his fingers, making her intensely aware of his gaze.

  His hand slid between her thighs, cool on the vulnerable flesh of her labia. He spread the fabric further apart so he could stroke between her lips. “You’re pretty wet for a woman at the mercy of a vampire,” he observed in that dark voice, a purr of amusement and distilled sex. “You like this, do you?”

  One of those armored fingers thrust upward, sliding easily inside her pussy. She gasped as he filled her, penetrating her all the way to his knuckles. The chill of his armored hand was shocking and raw and erotic. She caught her breath.

  “Spread your legs,” he ordered, cool, demanding.

  Zara obeyed before she even had time to think about it, her thighs instinctively parting. His armored fingers pumped, setting up a lush, erotic rhythm. He was right. She really was wet.

  She worked her hips, humping his hand in shameless pursuit of ecstasy. His thumb found her clit, circled. Delight rolled over her, waves of it, sweet and seductive. A second armored finger slid in, driving into her slickness, the sensation intense.

  Groaning, Zara panted, humping his hand, straining for more of that luscious sensation. He reached up her body with his free hand, pushing aside the edges of her suit. Found an aching, eager nipple to squeeze.

  “You have such pretty breasts,” Rand murmured, low and seductive. “So pale, like mounds of cream. Especially compared to your rosy little puss
y.” The light on his helmet danced from her breasts down to her sex and back again, tracking the movement of his eyes.

  “God, that feels so good,” she moaned, closing her eyes and rolling her head against the mattress.

  “And it’s about to get even better.” To her intense disappointment he released her pussy and nipples, leaving them aching. She raised her head, arms still flung helplessly wide, as he rose from the bed and took one of her booted feet in his hand. He found the boot’s seal and traced his fingers down its length. It split wide open over her shin, and he pulled it off, setting it neatly aside. He did same thing to the other boot and set it down with its mate before picking something up off the floor.

  Whatever it was gleamed as he fastened it around her ankle. She identified it when her leg instantly went as numb as her manacled wrists. Neurocuffs. “What are you…”

  “You’re a fighter. I don’t want you to.” The light on his helmet flicked up to her face. “Later, you can fight.”

  What the hell does he mean by that? Before she could ask, he put the other shackle on her ankle. “Now,” he rumbled, “you’re really helpless.”

  He pulled her into a sitting position so he could start stripping the uni off her shoulders and down to her waist, then dragged the sleeves down her arms, then raised her hips to pull the suit off. At last he lay her down and arranged her spread-eagle. The cuffs paralyzed her arms and legs. There wasn’t a damn thing she could do to flight him. He could arrange her body in whatever way suited him.

  Which left her naked, shackled and wildly aroused.

  Rand rose from the mattress and stood beside it, his helmet’s light taking a slow tour of her nudity, lingering on face, breast, and pussy. Half blinded, she waited to see what he would do next.

  “That’s better,” he purred. Reaching up, he took off his helmet and set it down beside the mattress. The helmet light swung up toward the ceiling of the cave and brightened until it illuminated the space in a soft glow.

  Licking her lips, Zara watched him remove his armor, listening to the soft metallic clicks, and the sigh of the armor’s seals. He dropped the gauntlets beside the helmet, then removed his boots and placed them together opposite her clothes. Finally he stripped off the top and bottom of the suit to reveal his handsome, brawny nudity. Finally -- God, finally -- he was completely naked.

 

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