“I don’t care.” She kissed him again, tearing at his lips and forcing him onto his back underneath her. She shoved the blanket away and straddled him, leaning against his chest, her hair tickling as it brushed over him, her warm and wet pussy covering his dick.
Maddox sighed and ran his fingers over her soft waist and hips then up her back and around to her full breasts, cupping them and squeezing. She moaned and sat up to give him more room and he squeezed her harder, feeling her nipples pebble under his tweaks and pinches.
“Oh, god, Maddox. I want you in me.”
Maddox swallowed hard. “I don’t have a condom.”
Allana laughed. “I do. An assassin is always prepared. Let me get it out of my suit.”
She began to crawl off him, but he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her hips over his face and plunged his tongue inside her pussy as he held her still. She moaned, but didn’t try to move away. With one hand on each side of her ass, he licked and sucked until her juices flowed freely and she pushed rhythmically against his mouth.
“Please…” she begged.
He nipped the insides of her thighs then flipped her onto her back so he could be on top.
“Please what?” He grinned. Now who’s in control? He rather liked her this way, begging.
“Please, Maddox…”
“This what you want?” He pushed two fingers inside her, feeling her clamp down around him as he moved in and out of her. He tongued her clit again, harder and faster as he pumped. He felt her orgasm before she vocalized it.
As she came, he captured her clit in his mouth and bit down gently.
“Ahhh,” she groaned. “Don’t stop. Ahhh.”
He wouldn’t stop. Not as long as he could please her like this, maybe ever.
As her aftershocks died down, she lay still for a few moments then moved from under him. “God, that was amazing, but I still want to feel you inside me.”
“What’s the rush? We’ve got all night.”
She scooted down beside him and pressed against his chest. “Do we? What about right now?”
Maddox jumped as she grabbed his dick and tugged. Then she bent down and took him into her mouth and he saw stars. Not little sparkly things, but goddamn firework stars as his dick hit the back of her throat. He wrapped his hand in her hair and pushed into her mouth. She didn’t gag, didn’t pull away, but opened wider and tongued him in all the right places. Pleasure built behind his balls and he tried to move away, but she kept sucking.
“Allana,” he panted. I’m not going to last. Goddamn it.
“Mmmm?”
“If you want me inside you, you’d better stop now.”
She let him slide out of her mouth and looked at him, her face wet and her tits rising and falling with her labored breath. “Don’t you want to come down my throat? I want to feel you, taste you.”
A groan erupted from somewhere inside him. Was it even him? He nodded. “Goddamn it, yes. But I want all of you. Promise me there’ll be more later. Promise me I’ll be able to bury myself in you.”
She smiled. “I promise. And an assassin always keeps her promises.” She bent and swallowed him whole, pumping her fist along his shaft and tonguing him as she took him deep. The warm wetness of her mouth became the only thing in his existence and he let go.
The stars bloomed again and then he was coming. Hard. He tried to look at her face, but he could barely open his eyes. God, she was the most beautiful creature on the planet and he was fucking her face.
And she wanted it as badly as he did.
5
Sex. Verity. Assassins. Allana. And the devastating possibility of never seeing her again. The thoughts assailed Maddox, giving him a wicked headache that the morning stimshot had only exacerbated. He tromped on a downed limb, snapping it with his boot and enjoying the way it broke easily underfoot. His Lancer dug into his ankle and he fisted his hands around the backpack straps.
Life wasn’t fair. It never had been. He stopped to wait for Allana. She made her way, gracefully winding around the fallen branches, her dark hair already wet from the incessant rain. He glanced at his wrist screen to check the time.
Plenty of daylight left to make it to the rendezvous point, even if they kept up the slower pace.
Trying to make sense of the night they’d spent together was like trying to count raindrops. Every memory brought a downpour of more thoughts, each more confusing than the last. Her light laughter, the flick of her hair when she turned her head too fast, her mouth around his dick, her soft lips pulling. God, even his memories teased him.
Allana smiled and moved past him, water sliding down her skinsuit and plunking to the ground as her hips swayed. He blinked.
It had really happened hadn’t it? He hadn’t dreamed it? He forced out a shaky breath and followed her through the thick mist.
They’d been walking for over two hours and they’d barely said a word to each other. Maybe that was for the best, pretending that nothing happened. Soon, he’d turn her over to Verity and that would likely be the last time he’d see her. And she knew that too. They’d whisk her off to briefings and post-mission analyses and then to wherever they kept their high-profile members. She’d be gone.
Somewhere safe.
Away from him.
He’d be left alone to return to his mediocre life in the city, mixing chemicals to cure the ailments of the masses. His own boring little slice of life—devoid of assassins and tunnels and romps in darkened tents. He’d be a little richer, but with nothing else to show for the work he did till the city government toppled entirely. Unless Verity needed him again. Maybe they’d put him to work as a medic helping the addicts. Or, maybe they’d never contact him again.
He’d be alone.
The way he convinced himself he liked it. He did like being alone, didn’t he?
Yes. No attachments, no disappointments.
The forest thinned ahead and he glanced at his screen to check the map. Yes, they were headed the right way. The rendezvous point flashed on the map like a heartbeat, promising a new life for Allana, and the status quo for him. Alone. No Meera. No family at all. He adjusted the pack higher on his back and picked up his pace.
He knew what he’d signed up for. They never promised Meera back.
The morning, gray like all mornings, and laden with the moisture of incessant rain, held a freshness that he couldn’t place. A newness. Invigorating though heavy. Maybe it was the great sex, or maybe it was getting away from the city, or maybe it was a bit of both. Allana. Whatever the newness was, it made him feel more alive than he could remember being in a very long time. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, relaxing as they walked. Pushing her from his mind with each step.
Trying to. Forcing her away. It felt so good.
He settled into an even pace and gradually relaxed. Something about the fresher air outside the city filled him with serenity.
I could get used to this.
The crunch of wet leaves under his boots set the rhythm they walked to, a pattern of steps leading them to their destination and away from the craziness of the city.
He yawned. He’d need another stimshot soon, or he wasn’t going to make it through the hike. A combination of the escape and the sex had liquefied his insides and weighed down his muscles. Exhaustion pressed on him. It’d been worth it. If only they’d had a little more time. A bit more time to show her how he felt. He’d wanted to make sure she kept her promise to let him make love to her, but fatigue had won out. He wasn’t even sure who had fallen asleep first.
Allana slowed to climb over a large tree trunk that lay across the path. He wanted to ask if she needed help, but breaking the silence felt wrong. Once she was on the other side, he pulled himself up and over. The other side looked exactly the same. More trees, more leaves, more rain.
At breakfast, she’d acted like they hadn’t even been in the same tent, or naked, much less lovers. Maybe she, too, was worried about the rendezvous and what that woul
d mean for the both of them.
He scowled as the thoughts rushed back.
Verity would take her, pay him, and leave.
The end. He’d never see her again.
They broached the edge of a large clearing and she paused. “Which way now? We must be getting really close.”
He startled at her voice, then checked his screen again then pointed. “That way. About three miles. Shouldn’t take long, and the terrain isn’t grueling. The hard part’s out of the way.”
“Good. Let’s get going.” With a flip of her hair, she set off across the grassy clearing.
The rain had flattened most of the grass in the meadow, and they headed across the soggy ground. Maddox took larger steps to keep up with Allana’s quick pace.
What’s her rush? Did she regret their night together? He didn’t, and he needed to find out how she felt. No more silence.
“Allana?” He edged beside her. “I wondered—”
“I don’t want to talk about it, Maddox. You know they aren’t going to let us see each other again.” She walked faster. “No point in making things any more awkward. Don’t you agree?”
Maddox glanced back at the city, growing smaller as they walked, but still occupying a part of the horizon. “Maybe if they knew—”
“They won’t care. Not part of the job. Or the plan.” She stopped and turned. “You know that. You work for Verity, too. They made it really clear. Didn’t they?”
He nodded. She was right and he knew it. He’d have to let her go, and the one night in the tent would remain the only memory of their time together.
Dammit. It’s not fair. Just when…
She looked at him and he realized. She’d never been his. Until she made the leap and until she made it on her own, she wouldn’t realize it either. Verity controlled everything about the assassin.
What could he do about it? Nothing. Verity controlled him too. In some ways, it was no different than the Confessor and his Sentinels and what they did. Perhaps in some ways it was less egregious because at least it was above board and in your face. With Verity, you got secrets.
The idea chilled him to the core and he stopped a moment to ponder. Before meeting Allana, he’d never had such thoughts. Before Allana, he’d never questioned Verity and their rules. Now, when he wanted something Verity didn’t allow, he realized they didn’t always have the perfect solution like he’d always believed.
Like he’d been trained to think. He’d been trained exactly as Verity expected him to think. And for the express purpose of keeping Verity alive and well.
Verity took care of Verity.
“I see the strain on your face. What’re you worrying about?” Allana moved closer. She reached for him but he backed away.
He avoided her gaze. “Nothing.”
“We knew the rules before we played the game, Maddox. Rules that were in place long before we got involved. Rules we didn’t create. Rules we did agree to live by.”
He slipped his hand from hers, nodded, and started walking again. I did know the rules. I didn’t think they applied to me.
He wasn’t in control of his life. I never have been. The realization smacked him hard. He rubbed his chin.
“Maddox.” Her footsteps picked up behind him. “I’m sorry. Maybe we shouldn’t have…”
He set the pack on the ground and then stared at her. At the assassin. The woman. His lover. He took a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “I’m not sorry. I did exactly what I wanted to do, and I think you did, too.”
He pulled her into a hug and her rain-wet cheek slipped against his and then he kissed her, firm, passionate. His tongue sought hers and he drew close.
I don’t want to be alone anymore.
Maddox stepped back. Where had that come from? His heart thumped and he wiped his mouth.
“Why did you stop?” she asked, her eyes wide. Her lower lip trembled and her face flushed.
Why did I stop? “We’ve got a rendezvous to make. Or else.” Goddamn it. Make up your mind.
She looked down. “We do. We have to be there.”
“Let’s go. Verity is counting on us.” I’m not being fair to her.
“Fine.” Verity can kiss off.
They crossed the wide meadow with wispy grass and headed into another stand of trees, these tall and thin with bark as pale as bones. Maddox paused to touch the paper-thin shreds peeling from the trunks. So delicate, and fleeting. He closed his eyes. When the wind slid through the branches, clearing the light fog, the slender leaves shuddered and sent tiny showers of water down onto him. He shivered in the chill. The bark seemed to applaud with each passing current.
If only he and Allana had more time together, they might be able to figure out how to be together, but as it was now, Verity has its own plans.
Maddox walked on, kicking at the leaves on the ground. Life wasn’t long enough to wait for second chances. Meera was proof of that. She’d barely had a few summers to live all her life in and yet he’d squandered more than she’d had altogether.
They came to a stream flowing directly across their path, its banks sloping and rocky, the water swirling and frothing with leaves dancing on the surface. Butterflies picked wildflowers along the bank and dragonflies lit on long sticks that lay across the water. The scent of honeysuckle and grapes nestled in the ridge of the river, sweetening any horseplay or naughtiness that happened to be going on.
Allana stopped and turned. “Where to?” She scanned the steel-gray sky.
He looked at his wrist screen. “We’ve gotta cross this somewhere, probably near here.” He scanned the bank, picking a natural stepping stone bridge where rocks peeked from the water like the backs of animals. “Here, maybe. Looks stable, but a little slippery.”
“Compared to the tunnels, this is easy.” She balanced and hopped, rock to rock, until she’d crossed the water. “See?” she called from the opposite side, pleased with herself. “Easy.”
He followed, careful not to slide. His balance wasn’t as good as hers, but he made it across without falling. He stepped onto the ground, unaware that he’d been holding his breath. He inhaled deeply then blew out. “I need to stop a minute,” he said. “Get something to drink and maybe a stimshot.”
Allana nodded. “Okay.” She bent beside the stream, staring. Her black hair fell forward toward her far in a lushness of velvet;
What would Verity have her do now? Now that her purpose was served? Maybe they would train her for another, lesser target? Or, as she’d mentioned, let her live out her life in luxury since there was no need for assassins anymore. Maybe they took out old assassins. The thought chilled him. Surely they wouldn’t kill the very ones who had served the purpose of the whole. When Verity meant truth anyway? No, that wasn’t possible.
“Allana?”
“Yes?” She turned to him, her eyes bright.
“Never mind.” He dug in his pack for the injector. Time was short. Regardless of his own fate.
She wouldn’t be with him, and right now, that’s all he could think about. He should be talking to her instead of himself in the little time they had left together, but he couldn’t bring himself to broach the topic again. She clearly didn’t want to discuss things.
“Okay…”
He injected himself with the stim, closing his eyes as the cold drug flashed through his cells. Felt so good and was just the right amount of a jolt. He’d helped develop the formula a few years ago, but the Confessor banned it, knowing it would help. Thank goodness Verity supplied it, otherwise, he’d need a nap.
Too many nights with too little sleep. Story of his life. His heart rate picked up and warmth surged through his skin as circulation raced through it. He’d be able to go on for hours now.
Allana crouched and washed her face again.
“You need one?” He held up the stim injector.
“No, thanks.” She shook her head and splashed water on her cheeks. “This water is cold enough to wake the dead.”
“Oka
y.” He dropped the injector into his bag and removed his clear-water flask, then knelt and filled it with creek water.
“You drinking straight from the creek?” she asked. “Surely not. You could get sick.”
He shook his head. “No, of course not. Watch this.” He put the lid on the bottle and shook it, the contents swirling inside turning deep purple then clearing to nothing within seconds.
She smiled. “Another Verity engineering feat?”
“Yes.” He took the cap off and drank. He guzzled most of the bottle then refilled it. “Each bottle is good for about a thousand fills of moderately dirty specimens. As long as the water turns purple then clear, you know it is purified. Both chemically and biologically.” He put the lid on and shook the bottle again, then removed the lid when the water turned clear again.
“Wow.” She took the bottle and drank. “That’s amazing. And the water tastes great too.”
“Yep.” He topped off the water again, tightened the silvery lid, and stuck the bottle in his pack. “And it’s practical.”
“Pretty cool. I wouldn’t mind having my own.” She stretched. “Not that I’ll need one.”
“No, I’m sure your every need will be met, and then some.” He smirked. How could he even think that she would give that life up to be with him?
“You make it sound like I’ll be royalty.”
“Something like that. At least a princess.”
She snorted. “No, don’t be ridiculous. But I am looking forward to sleeping in a real bed tonight. Not in a tent in a rainy forest.”
He ducked his head and zipped up his pack. “I’ll bet.”
“Oh,” she touched his arm. “I didn’t mean—Oh, that came out all wrong. Last night was amazing. I just mean—”
“I get it. You’re ready to be done with this part of the job.” And me. He adjusted his pack onto his shoulders. “I don’t blame you. I’m ready for this job to be over too. I’m sure it was ‘fun’ while it lasted.”
Wicked Legends: A Dystopian Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection Page 49