by Anna Carven
I’m all alone.
I reach the wardrobe and pull out the package I got from Elysium. It's a seamless black box with silver swirls on the sides—the department store’s signature design. I slide the lid off and take out my little surprise.
Well, Tarak’s surprise. It’s a couple of days late, but I don’t care. He wouldn’t care. His Kordolian highness doesn’t give two shits about Christmas.
I haven’t even tried it on since I bought it, but I know it will fit perfectly. All they had to do was download my measurements from my link. I selected the fabric myself and had the garments made on the spot.
What are you into, Tarak?
The bra is a ridiculous thing, made from a supple tech-fabric called supalion, which molds to the body upon first contact and then stiffens. The fabric allows designers to create the most outlandish and fantastical things. Case in point, this elaborate network of twisting vines and leaves and flowers that dangles from my hands.
It’s not really a bra at all. It’s a few strips of cherry-red supalion lace. I unclasp it and try it on, watching in fascination as the strange fabric cups around my breasts and tightens. Suddenly, my breasts are encased in crimson; elegant leafy swirls and delicate flowers curving over my pale skin. My nipples are only just covered by a pair of small, intricate roses.
I press the clasp at my back, and the entire thing stiffens, pushing my boobs slightly upwards.
Holy crap.
I’ve never owned one of these before. It’s surprisingly comfortable and supportive.
The next item is a pair of underwear. To be more precise, it’s a thong made from matching red fabric. I put it on. The supple material molds against my body and skims over my hips. Really, is this thing an actual piece of clothing?
Thin lines of material curve downward, ending in a tiny triangular sliver that nestles cheekily between my thighs. It’s barely there, and yet the effect is amazing.
I turn on the holo and stare back at myself.
Who the hell is this stranger with the rich brown hair and skimpy lingerie? The outfit highlights my body in all the right places. I bought it on impulse, but it’s exactly what I wanted.
A thrill of excitement courses through me. At the same time, I’m nervous. I really don’t know how the Big Bad’s going to react.
Luckily, I’ve got time to—
“What is this, hmm?” Powerful arms curl around my waist. His unmistakable scent surrounds me.
I freeze. Am I imagining things? No, he feels very solid and real against my barely covered skin. He’s still wearing his exo-armor. The symbiotic second-skin is hard yet warm, and it shifts slightly as I lean against him.
“I thought you went to Silence,” I say softly, trying to hide my shock. My heart is racing. He’s caught me off-guard.
“I did. I returned.”
“Oh. That was quick.”
“I can finish my work remotely.” He kisses the back of my neck, sending a warm ripple down my spine. “It is better to be here with you. Later, I will take Ami on the lake. I have made a kyron.”
“Kyron?” My Kordolian’s pretty good these days, but I haven’t heard that word before.
“A small vehicle on blades. The Aikun use them to transport their young when traveling across the vast distances of the Vaal. Children always enjoy riding in the kyron.”
“It’s not dangerous, is it?” My hard-wired parental instincts kick in. The question’s silly, I know, but I can’t help it.
Tarak chuckles. “She will be with me.”
“The safest place in the Universe, right?”
“Yes.” He runs his gloved hands over my supalion-encased breasts. The thong is a little snug. It presses against my clit a little bit, amplifying my arousal. I’m all wet, and I know it’s not from my period, because that ended yesterday.
“What is this, my amina?” Slowly, he spins me around and pushes me back until I’m at arm’s length. Wine-dark eyes travel over every inch of my body, missing nothing.
My heartbeat goes into overdrive. What does he think?
His eyes narrow. He goes very, very still. His face is a glacial silver mask.
As if in response to the mood, the music changes suddenly, going from astral-synth to a deep, pulsating dark-tripp beat.
His reaction doesn’t deter me. I know what it means.
I relax, getting comfortable in my skimpy second skin. My hips are slightly forward, my arms relaxed. My nipples stiffen, straining against the tiny roses.
Tarak’s nostrils flare.
Do you like it?
Truth is, I don’t even have to ask.
A strange mood comes over me. I sway my hips, suddenly feeling feverish. His stare is like the heat from a thousand dark suns. He opens his mouth to say something, revealing his gleaming fangs.
I begin to move, letting the music flow through my body. I grind and sway, inching closer and closer until I’m pressed up against him.
He closes his mouth again, words deserting him.
My Tarak, speechless?
I dance for him, pressing my hand up against his hard chest, pushing him backwards. At first, he stiffens, but then I look up and him and smile.
His eyes widen a fraction and he relents, allowing me to have my way.
Emboldened, I push him onto the bed. He leans back on his elbows, gazing up at me, his eyebrows drawing together. I straddle him, my bare thighs locking against his hard, armor-encased body.
“Why are you still dressed?” I rasp.
His hands go around my waist. His eyes are drawn to my body. He’s openly staring at my cleavage; my full, pendulous, mom-boobs.
How my body’s changed.
Tarak can’t keep his eyes off me. He’s ogling me. Still hasn’t said a word.
I run my hands down his chest and lean in, still swaying my hips to the beat of the music. Slowly, I lower myself and press my lips against his.
I kiss him.
Sharpness and spice and his unmistakable taste fills my mouth. He’s very still, unmoving, letting me take charge. I probe his mouth and find his tongue.
Finally, he responds, kissing me back with a ferocity that knocks my socks off, dragging his hands through my hair, down my neck, my back, over my ass.
Tucking his thumbs beneath the flimsy waistband of my little thong, he tugs on it, and the damn thing tightens a little, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.
His mouth releases mine and I rise, rocking back on my haunches. Fine beads of sweat run down my chest, between my breasts, down my belly. It might be freezing cold outside, but my body’s burning up.
“Ta-rak,” I say slowly. “Do I have to repeat myself? Why are you still dressed?” I’m surprised at how I sound—insistent, demanding, imperious—taking a leaf out of my husband’s playbook.
He gives me a long stare as he manipulates my thong between his fingers, pulling it back and forth, drawing an involuntary whimper from my throat.
“Abbey…” His lips caress my name. “I want to enjoy the sight of you for just a little while longer. If I were unclothed, that would not be possible.”
“Oh?” I lean back until I feel the faint outline of his cock, straining against his amor. “What does that even mean?”
“It means, my dear wife, that I am this close to tearing that little thing off your body and fucking you senseless.”
“So you like it, then?”
“You are beautiful,” he says, deadly serious now. “To see you like this…” He goes quiet again, his gaze conveying a thousand different meanings. “I am pleased.”
“Pleased?” I arch an eyebrow. His eyes say so much more than just pleased.
“Surprised,” he adds, running his hand over the curve of my ass, squeezing a little. “Aroused. Fortunate. Desperate. Blown. Away.”
Oh. Stars, this man has a way of making me feel so impossibly sexy. It’s that laser-focus thing. There’s nothing quite like it. Right now, I am his world.
“Merry Christmas,” I w
hisper as I dance a slow, sensual dance, thrilled that I have this impossibly powerful creature trapped beneath me.
Huh. Little old me. Who would have thought?
He’s spellbound.
It’s obvious.
I dance until my skin is slick and shiny all over, until my hair is damp, until his pupils constrict and his irises darken, until his fangs appear between slightly parted lips and his nostrils flare.
I place my hand against his chest. There’s his heartbeat. Strong, steady, fast. Matching the beat of the music. Thudthudthudthud.
I’m in control now.
I sneak one hand down and touch his cock, feeling the hard outline beneath his symbiotic armor.
“Undress,” I command, my voice cracking as I become aware of the sheer tension contained within his hard body.
As if he could unleash a storm at any moment.
It thrums through my fingers, and I swear that’s the effect of the microscopic nanites in my body—the ones he gave me.
The obsidian layer writhes and shifts, becoming thinner and thinner until I catch a glimpse of sliver underneath, and suddenly it’s barely there, dissolving, dissipating before my very eyes.
Like magic.
A billion tiny points of darkness, retreating.
When his bare skin touches mine, it’s electric.
He takes my hands into his, our fingers entwining.
Whoosh.
Before I know it, our positions are reversed. He’s flipped me over. I lie on my back, staring up at him as he hovers over me, his eyes hooded in shadow, fangs fully bared, a low growl emanating from his throat.
His powerful arms press down on either side of me. His entire body is tensed, and his massive cock hangs down, engorged, straining, moisture glistening at its tip.
Ready.
“I can’t hold back any more,” he whispers. Suddenly, his hands are all over my body, cupping my breasts, sliding down my belly, my hips, my thighs. I sling my arms around his neck and breathe in his essence.
Hot lips cover my nipple, his tongue probing through the delicate mesh of my bra. Strong fingers slide behind, and suddenly there’s a gentle pop and my bra comes loose.
To my surprise, he’s carefully unfastened it, rather than just tearing it or slicing it with his claws as he usually does.
“Ahh.” I sigh as he caresses my boobs, his warm lips coaxing impossible sensations from my nipples. I run my hands over his powerful back, over his perfectly shaped ass, appreciating every inch of his fine body.
We’re a hot tangle of limbs and arms and roving hands. Our dance becomes frenetic, furious, sublime.
He runs his fingers through my hair, forcing me to look up at him as he lifts his head.
Our eyes lock.
He kisses me again and again, pinning me with that laser-focus stare. I’m drowning in the hard, crystalline depths of his gaze.
His hunger stokes my arousal even further.
Slowly, I remove my delicate little undergarment. My need is an insistent, throbbing ache, and I gasp as the tip of his cock touches against my hypersensitive folds, grazing my clit.
I’m soaked. I’m desperate. I’m so fucking ready. My body is no longer under my control. I need him inside me, now.
“Abbey,” he says, and his voice is both savage and achingly tender.
He slips his hard length inside me, going slowly at first, knowing exactly how much pressure to apply. How does he show so much restraint when he’s so close to the edge?
The sleek ridge along the top of his shaft glides against my clit, sending me into the stratosphere. My body quivers. I nearly come right then and there, but he releases the pressure just before I go over the edge, somehow knowing exactly what to do.
He always knows exactly what to do.
Then something inside him snaps, and a shudder runs through his entire body. He goes deep inside, wrapping his arms around me in a frantic embrace as he kisses me, devouring me with every fiber of his being.
I catch a glimpse of his face—filled with raw, intense need.
That look.
I kiss him back hungrily, reveling in his power, his savagery. My fingers slide over the broad planes of his back; over taut, flexing muscle.
God, he’s magnificent.
We fuck.
We fuck until I lose track of time and space, until I know no other existence but him.
Until the darkness falls away completely, and there’s nothing but pure, brilliant light.
And when release finally comes, it’s transcendent.
It always is.
21
Tarak
I am falling.
A terrible emotion fills my chest. It is rage and darkness and an overwhelming desire to kill.
Pain is there, too. I try to shut it away, but for once in my life, I can’t.
I try to move, but I can’t. My heart is racing and my breath comes in short, shallow gasps, but my arms and legs are still, trapped by some invisible, undefinable restraint.
Where am I?
It has to be the deep-labs of Yol Kruta, because there’s no other place where I have been restrained in this way.
But no, it can’t be, because Yol Kruta and its cursed torture labs have been destroyed.
I made sure of it.
Where is Abbey? Where is Ami? I try to reach out in the darkness, panic seizing my thoughts.
Has something terrible occurred? Dread seeps through me. That terrible, familiar anger is back, threatening to explode.
If anything has happened to either of them, I will tear apart the entire fucking Universe until—
Stop.
Just stop.
Something warm and soft touches my bare chest. Suddenly, I can move again. That gentle touch has released me from those cold, invisible restraints.
My eyes snap open.
I glance to the side and see her.
Relief floods through me.
Ah. She’s here. She’s here. My mate is here with me. My racing heart slows a fraction and I take a deep, shuddering breath. Memories come flooding back. In the morning, I was here with Abbey. In truth, I was stunned by her brilliant little surprise.
In the afternoon, I was with Ami on the ice. We ran across the lake, she riding in the kyron, me with my feet bare and the icy wind rushing past my face.
It was good.
And when my child squealed in delight, it was glorious.
My clan is here with me. They are here.
Safe.
Ami is in the room beside ours, sleeping soundly.
Abbey is beside me, her warm hand resting on my chest. Her touch is powerful. It obliterates my worst nightmares.
“Mmhm.” Still in the grip of slumber, she murmurs something unintelligible. Even in sleep, she knows.
I need her. Kaiin’s hells, how I need her. She’s my anchor in this chaotic existence. Her presence vanquishes the horrors in my mind.
If anyone threatens Abbey or our daughter, I will crush them. I will become the worst kind of monster. That side of me has not changed. If anything, I’ve grown stronger, more ruthless. It’s easier to tip me into madness.
I’ve just learned to hide it better.
I exhale slowly, taking my mate’s warm hand into mine. Slowly, I raise her hand to my lips and kiss it reverently, taking care not to wake her.
Instinctively, she rolls towards me, haphazardly draping her other arm across my belly. The rhythmic sound of her breathing lulls me into a semi-trance.
Sweet thing.
So fragile, yet so strong.
I kiss her hand again and place it on my chest, allowing her to completely invade my senses.
My mate.
My sanity.
My sanctuary.
Did you know that you’ve saved me?
Teaser - Darkstar Mercenaries Book 3 - Fractured Souls
Nythian frowned as he stared at his boss, folding his arms and trying not to look as tense as he felt. He shifted his weight from
one foot to the other, his impatience growing. They were standing in Tarak al Akkadian’s command room, a dark, minimalist space on the lower decks that was graced with an expansive view of the Universe.
The fact that Nythian had been temporarily relieved of his guard duty and summoned here might be a good thing, or it might not. With the General, it was always hard to tell. Secretly, he hoped he was being assigned to a different task; perhaps a mission in another sector with his offsider, Lodan. He always got antsy when he was stuck on the Fleet Station for too long. For a change, he wouldn’t mind visiting one of the wild border planets where the native inhabitants hadn’t had much contact with outsiders. Those places were always… interesting.
Nythian craved action. There were only so many fight simulations one could work through in the training chamber, and these days, his brothers weren’t always free to slug it out in an impromptu sparring session.
“I have an assignment for you.” The General’s voice was soft, but it sliced through Nythian’s thoughts like a perfectly honed Callidum blade.
“Sir?”
“You will be the revenant’s minder. She is fragile, but also potentially dangerous.”
Nythian blinked. “Sir?” He stiffened, resisting the temptation to make the sign of the Goddess with his fingers. The situation with the human, Alexis… he’d be lying if he said it didn’t spook him a little. The woman had come back from the dead, for Kaiin’s sake. “I don’t think I’d be the best one for the job. Maybe one of the other guys would be—”
“Are you trying to argue with me, Nythian?” Tarak’s eyes narrowed dangerously.
Nythian knew that look.
Don’t push your luck.
He was one step away from getting a serious beat-down.
“Just stating the facts, Sir.” But he went there anyway, because right now he wouldn’t mind going up against the General in the training chamber. There was a longstanding bet amongst all the First Division brothers that one of them would eventually defeat Tarak in a sparring session, and Nythian wanted to be the one to do it. He could use the workout, anyway. “I’ve never been any good at babysitting, and the human’s shit-scared of me. Maybe you could assign one of the others; someone with a friendlier looking, uh, face.”