Kirlos opened his mouth and took Marc deep. The Cerian sucked hard, making Marc gasp. Marc had every intention of enjoying the feel of Kirlos’s mouth for a few minutes then freeing the Cerian’s legs and shoving himself in the man’s tight ass. But he rapidly realized he’d be lucky to last another second. Every pull of Kirlos’s mouth and every swipe of his warm, smooth tongue brought Marc closer and closer to the edge.
Marc growled and knew his eyes had gone wolfish. Fuck! Panic seized him. He flexed his hands as claws speared into the table beside Kirlos’s head. Fur began to sprout from his body.
The wolf wanted to take control. But after several deep breaths accompanied by slow, shallow thrusts into Kirlos’s mouth, Marc’s fear receded. Unlike before, Marc knew his beast would be content with a partial shift. He needed a huge leap of energy to go from part wolf to a full shift. He was too controlled to let that happen.
“I’m fine. I’ll control it,” he tried to reassure Kirlos and prayed the man wouldn’t panic. Kirlos had no way out now. He couldn’t release himself with his mouth stuffed full of cock.
Marc’s heart slammed against his chest. He should stop and make sure Kirlos was okay, but his body screamed for release. He’d done intentional partial shifts with lovers before, those who liked danger and craved the scrape of a claw across their skin. He’d always held control, and he would do so tonight.
He drove his hips harder against Kirlos’s face. Kirlos moaned, and he thrust deeper. The Cerian opened his mouth wider, taking Marc all the way in. One more hard suck was all Marc needed. He howled and bucked his hips against Kirlos’s face, letting his cock explode deep in his lover’s throat.
He pulled back as soon as he could, scared he’d cut off Kirlos’s air, but the Cerian smiled up at him and licked his lips. “Fuck that was good.”
Marc smiled and slid off the table. He knew his eyes were still wolfish even though his fur had receded as his orgasm waned. Kirlos watched his every move but showed no sign of fear. Marc relaxed and peeled off the wax that had hardened on Kirlos’s cock. The Cerian gasped as the wax pulled at the over-sensitive skin. Marc wrapped his hand around Kirlos’s cock which was slick with his natural lube. “Table, release the cock ring and start moving the tentacle in his ass, fast and hard.”
His hand slid up and down Kirlos’s cock. Marc practiced squeezing and releasing, testing how much pressure was necessary to start up the natural vibrations. He toyed with Kirlos until his hips bucked up and down and a low whine escaped him.
“Fires of hell! Let me come.”
Marc grinned and closed his hand tightly around Kirlos’s shaft. “Show me how much you loved swallowing my come.”
Kirlos’s whole body stiffened. He made a strangled sound and hot jets of come erupted from his cock, coating the wax on his belly. As Kirlos’s body stilled, Marc bent and took his lips in a kiss. Their tongues tangled. Marc speared his hands into Kirlos’s hair and held his head still so he could lick every inch of the inside of Kirlos’s mouth. He tasted himself there and his cock stirred despite the searing orgasm he’d just experienced.
When he reluctantly pulled back, he made the mistake of looking into Kirlos’s eyes. He knew that all the emotions that were warring inside of him were clear in his own eyes. Kirlos didn’t need to read his mind to find out that what he felt for the man went beyond lust. He turned away quickly. “Table, release him.”
Chapter 5
Kirlos flexed his arms and legs. When he’d heard Marc growl and felt fur growing on his thighs as he pressed them against Kirlos’s face, he’d felt a moment of fear. But Marc had pulled himself back much faster this time. Hearing him growl and snarl as he forced his cock down Kirlos’s throat had become a hot rush. He might have come just from that if Marc had not put that damn ring on him. If his mouth had been free, he’d have begged to feel Marc’s claws dig into him.
His back burned hot where his partially healed welts had rubbed against the table and his chest and abs tingled as Marc pulled at the cool wax. Every muscle in his body felt well-used. He wanted Marc to join him for a long, hot shower. He doubted that would happen though. Marc was clearly trying to distance himself from the intimacy they’d shared.
The intense lust that had ridden them both had shifted to something softer when Marc had kissed him. He’d been able to probe behind Marc’s shields while their lips connected. There was no doubt Marc felt more for Kirlos than sexual need. Feeling raw love flowing from Marc had shocked Kirlos and forced him to admit to himself that he’d fallen hard for Marc. He was more determined than ever to stay on the station and force Marc to face what was happening between them.
That wasn’t going to be easy. The intensity of his feelings for Marc scared Kirlos, and he wasn’t a man who ran from any emotion softer than rage. He didn’t doubt that Marc was terrified. He was actually surprised Marc hadn’t run and left him to disentangle himself and clean up on his own.
Marc jerked a piece of wax off his nipple and Kirlos gasped. Marc looked up for an instant but quickly turned away. When he pulled the wax off the other nipple, Kirlos bit his lip to stay quiet.
Kirlos’s body was free of wax now. He sat up and watched as the captain pulled his pants on. The silence hung heavy between them. Kirlos could think of nothing to say that wouldn’t push Marc further away. Marc’s mind was awash in fear, anger, and self-loathing. Kirlos wanted to make him let go of all of it, but he didn’t know how.
When Marc was dressed he looked at Kirlos for the first time since their kiss. “I’m going back to my office. Finish cleaning up and return to your own quarters.”
Kirlos watched Marc go. He couldn’t say a word around the lump that had formed in his throat when he’d seen the pain in Marc’s eyes. He feared Marc had worked so hard to control the urges and instincts of his predator side that he’d cut himself off from feeling any strong emotions at all. Kirlos would guess that since Marc had been altered, his lovers had gotten a hot, wild ride, but seen none of the man locked down under the sexy exterior. He wasn’t going to let up on Marc until the captain admitted that he wasn’t a cold bastard.
* * *
Marc lay in his bed, unable to sleep. He’d buried himself in work for the last two days. The Cerian sex table deal was moving along nicely, and he had a few other prospects of income. He’d managed to avoid being alone with Kirlos since he’d left him still covered in oil and come. But even in the midst of negotiations with the Sultanan traders, he’d thought about fucking the Cerian again.
He wanted to pretend he was staying away from Kirlos because he didn’t fuck the people he employed, but he was the captain and he’d break the rules whenever he damn well pleased. The intensity of the heat between him and Kirlos terrified him. He couldn’t open himself up to such strong feelings, especially when they shook his tenuous control over his wolf.
He rolled onto his back and took his rock hard cock in his hand. It begged him to go find Kirlos. The Cerian’s quarters were only a few hundred feet down the corridor. He could easily slip the door open, sneak in, and slide into Kirlos’s bed. Then he’d tie Kirlos to the headboard and --
A loud beep from his wrist unit interrupted Marc’s fantasy. “Devlin, go.”
“A ship is on approach to the station. It’s registered as a human private transport. The pilot claims he needs a place to stop and make repairs, but I’m registering one Cerian male on board and no other life forms.” The concern in Claire’s voice dissipated the lust clouding Marc’s brain.
“Don’t alert him to what we know. Send a security team to meet his ship when it docks. I want him taken to a holding cell.”
Fuck! He’d thought he was done with the Cerians. Were they after Kirlos?
He pulled on pants and strapped on his weapons holster, not bothering with a shirt. When he got to the command center, Claire was pale. She looked sick with worry. One Cerian on a small ship would not cause her such concern.
“What haven’t you told me?”
She squeezed
her eyes shut and rubbed her temples. “I recorded a transmission from the ship.”
“Play it for me.”
“Captain, it’s --”
“Play it now.”
Claire pressed a key on her terminal.
“Major Adesta.” The man who spoke had a heavier accent than Kirlos. He sounded young. Marc detected a hint of nervousness.
“Prince Vasylko, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Kirlos’s voice was formal and flat.
“I’ve come to rescue you. When I heard you had been forced to remain on this station, I could not bear to know a member of such an esteemed family as yours was in the hands of barbarians.”
“I thank you for your concern, but as you can see I am unharmed.”
“A miracle I am sure.”
“Perhaps.”
“Once I am on the station, I plan to negotiate with the captain for your freedom. I am prepared to offer a vast sum for your return.”
“How close are you?”
“I am on approach as we speak.”
“Excellent. I look forward to returning to civilization. Living among these savages has been nearly unbearable.” There was a hard edge to Kirlos’s voice that Marc had never heard before.
“I will not fail you.”
The transmission ended there.
Marc’s stomach churned and bile rose in his throat. He’d been so close to reaching out to Kirlos again. Now he knew everything between them had been a lie. Kirlos had been playing a game, the son of a bitch. Marc would see that both Cerians paid for their attempted deception.
“Sir, did you notice that Adesta didn’t sound right at the end?”
Marc ignored the hopeful tone in Claire’s voice. “I’m going to get the bastard and throw him back in a cell where he belongs. Did Donovan ever find any drugs that repress psychic talents?”
“Yes sir, but they’re not approved. They could be fatal for all we know.”
Marc snorted. “Acquire some immediately. Warn the security team that we don’t know what psychic weapons Vasylko has at his disposal. Everyone should go in tightly shielded.”
“Yes, sir. I still think you should consider that Adesta didn’t sound like himself.”
“That’s enough, Claire.”
Thank the gods they’d gotten this wake-up call as quickly as they had. There was no telling what Kirlos was really planning when he contacted the supposed sex table dealer on Ceria. He may have been negotiating for a whole squadron of Cerians to descend on them.
Marc cursed himself long and creatively. Never before had he trusted someone he knew so little about. What had possessed him to take Kirlos’s word that he wanted to help them? Hope?
Marc rubbed the back of his neck. Gods of Earth, he was tired. For the last year he’d looked over his shoulder constantly, knowing that it was up to him to keep his people safe from Terra Gov and all the dangers awaiting a party of human outcasts. Now they finally had a place to settle, a chance to make a new life for themselves. He’d thought he could relax a little, stop holding himself battle-ready every second of every day. Apparently not. He wouldn’t be stupid enough to be hopeful again.
* * *
Kirlos slipped on the Cerian dress tunic that he had packed away with the other belongings from his ship. If Prince Vasylko got past station security, then Kirlos needed to look the part of the Cerian noble when he confronted the worthless piece of shit.
No way did he buy that the man had come to rescue him. It was far more likely Vasylko intended to eliminate him and the threat of blackmail. The prince wasn’t bright enough to think up a solid attack plan, but his psychic powers were strong. He could send a searing bolt of pain directly into someone’s mind, bringing the person to their knees in a second. The shifters had strong shields, but if Kirlos had gotten through then the prince could too.
If Vasylko found him wearing a station uniform, he’d never believe that Kirlos meant what he said about wanting to leave. He needed to continue his illusion long enough to determine why the prince had really come after him. Kirlos considered alerting Marc, but he didn’t have time for an argument. If the prince was as close as he said then he could be docked, push through security, and come for Kirlos before Kirlos convinced Marc of the seriousness of Vasylko’s threat.
Kirlos was buckling his holster over his tunic when the door to his quarters opened. Kirlos spun around, weapon drawn, but he faced Marc, not Vasylko. Marc’s face burned red. Anger pushed so hard at Kirlos’s mind he nearly stepped backward. He holstered his gun slowly and drew in a deep breath. Kirlos had to talk fast. The prince would view Marc as disposable and wouldn’t hesitate to kill him. “I take it you intercepted Vasylko’s transmission.”
“I did.” Marc failed to keep the growl out of his voice.
“The prince is not my friend.”
Marc pulled out a set of handcuffs from his belt.
“Prince Vasylko has most likely come to kill me. He won’t mind killing you or any number of your men.”
Marc stepped forward, grabbed Kirlos’s arm, and wrenched it up behind his back. Kirlos struggled, breaking loose before the cuff snapped shut. “If you don’t listen to me, we may both die.”
It was too late to talk any more. The door slid open again, and Vasylko stepped in. The prince immediately focused his attention on Marc. The captain’s fingers became claws and fur began to grow from his skin. The grimace on his face told Kirlos that the prince was fighting his way through Marc’s shields. Kirlos sent a probe toward Marc and pain burst out toward Kirlos’s mind. He had to close his own shields to keep Marc’s agony from overwhelming him.
His stomach turned as he watched Marc fight the pain. If he drew his weapon on the prince, the game was up. He’d have to kill Vasylko before he learned what the man was up to. Did the Cerian government know he was here? Would they look for him if he disappeared or consider his death a fortunate accident?
Marc fell to all fours and screamed.
Kirlos drew his weapon and fired at the prince. Vasylko jumped to the side at the last moment, but the blast caught his shoulder.
Marc rose onto his knees. Time seemed to slow as Kirlos watched him change, but the transformation took less than a second. Marc’s face elongated, growing a snout, and his fur grew thicker. He seemed to waver and disappear momentarily then a huge gray wolf leapt at the prince. He brought Vasylko down, going straight for his throat.
Bile rose in Kirlos’s throat as he watched Marc rip into the prince’s flesh. This was the fate he’d narrowly escaped a few days ago. For a second he was tempted to run for his life. What if the captain started on him next? But he stood his ground. Marc wasn’t going to kill him. He’d had ample opportunity.
When there was no doubt that the prince was dead, the wolf stepped back. He turned his yellow eyes toward Kirlos. Kirlos froze in place, his heart thumping wildly. Then the wolf was suddenly Marc again.
Marc pressed a button on his wrist unit. “Claire, the Cerian prince is dead. Send a security team to Kirlos’s quarters to have the body removed. See that they erase any trace that he was ever on this station.”
“Yes, sir. Is Adesta with you?”
“Yes.”
“Is he --” Claire’s voice wavered.
Marc scowled. “He’s fine. I’m not going to kill him. Just do as I asked. Devlin out.”
Marc looked up at Kirlos then. “My quarters. Now.” He turned toward the door. Kirlos had little choice but to follow him.
They made the short walk in silence.
As soon as the door to Marc’s quarters closed behind them, Marc faced Kirlos. “Will the Cerian Empire descend on us as soon as they get word of this?”
Kirlos shook his head. “They won’t hear about it from me. And if they have any sense they’ll think we’ve done them a favor.”
Marc raised his brows.
“Prince Vasylko was a cruel, twisted man. A few years ago, children began disappearing off the streets of the capital. When several of their bodie
s were found with evidence of rape and torture, investigators began looking for a serial killer. I’m one of a handful of people who know the prince was their killer. The royal family covered it up, and I have no proof he stopped. I imagine he learned to be more discreet and possibly to tone down his enthusiasm so the children didn’t die.”
Marc paled. “I’d kill him again if I could.”
Kirlos nodded. He felt a wild mix of anger and sadness pouring from Marc. He wanted to embrace him, but he feared that the captain would push him away.
“Are there other nobles who’d like to kill you for things you know?”
Kirlos couldn’t help but smile. “Hundreds I’d guess.”
“You’ll have to leave the station.”
Kirlos sighed. “I’m sorry. I doubt any of my other enemies are crazy enough to come here.”
“I don’t give a fuck about them coming here. We’ve proven ourselves more than capable of defending ourselves against Cerians. But you need to hide somewhere that they can’t find you.”
“I’m touched that you’re worried about me.”
Marc snarled.
“I can also hold my own. I’m not leaving.”
“Yes, you are. You’ll be personally escorted onto your ship and sent on your way if I have to drug you to get you there.”
“Marc --”
“You have twenty-four hours to be ready to leave.”
“I love you.”
Marc stumbled back like he’d been slapped. “Don’t fuck with me.”
“You love me, too. I’ve felt it.” He pushed gently at Marc’s mind. “I feel it now.”
Marc’s shields slammed shut. “Stay out of my head. You’re a good fuck. That doesn’t mean I’m in love with you.”
“Even if I don’t touch your mind, the feelings are still there.”
“Pack your bags and get off my station.” Marc slammed his hand against the door mechanism. It slid back. He walked away without looking back.
Shifter’s Station 3: Loving Your Enemy Page 5