The Thief of Mardu

by The thief of Mardu (lit)

  She moaned softly, disgusted to find the breathlessness of her tone was not an act. He smelled better than Aflera ambrosia. She wanted to devour him.

  As if he sensed her desire, he sucked harder at her neck and moved his hands up under her jacket to caress her full breasts. She could feel the steel of his cock through his trousers, thrusting against her belly, and she desperately wanted to touch him flesh to flesh.

  "That feels so good," she rasped and heard his breathing quicken. His hands grew rougher as the want built, and his need fed her own.

  Knowing she approached the point of no return, she ignored how much she wanted him to continue his sensual assault. She reached for the one thing determined to cool her ardor, a vision of the dead Statesman Klin. She waited until her captor leaned away from her, one hand leaving the wall, she assumed, to unfasten his trousers.

  As soon as his hand reached into his pants, she urgently shoved away from the wall and knocked him aside. She caught a glimpse of golden eyes widening in surprise, of dark hair shaping a sensual face. Then she ran as if her life depended upon it.

  She sped through the crowd nimbly, and as she ran, she fought against memories of his touch, forcing herself to hurry. Still, it was a battle to convince herself she didn’t want to be caught.

  * * * *

  Catam fought to control his breathing, to stifle the wave of heat engulfing his painfully aroused body.

  He fastened his trousers and leaned his forehead against his arm, needing the wall for support. He didn’t understand what had just happened. One minute he’d been watching the cloaked woman in discourse with that vermin Feltang.

  And the next ... he caught her scent, and like a siren she drew him close before decimating his judgment.

  Catam was Mardu, and more, he was Xema. His people revered sensuality, simultaneously basking in pleasure while controlling their sexuality from years of steady practice. While he had never disappointed a sexual partner, he had never lost his head with one either.

  That the little thief he trailed could have made him forget his discipline astounded him. He breathed deeply, in and out, calming his racing pulse by forcibly ignoring memories of the woman’s touch.

  His cock still felt uncomfortably hard, and he contemplated one of the many pleasurers near him before deciding against it. Never mind that he enjoyed this particular chase. His brother trusted him to bring in his quarry soon, so play would have to wait.

  Then a naughty thought crossed his mind, and his subsiding arousal flared anew.

  The thief had started this, with her beckoning scent and delightfully erotic little body. Why not let her finish it? Unlike Sernal, Catam subscribed to no code of conduct. He was no lawman, no matter what his papers said. Catam was Xema, and as such, when it came down to it, he answered to no one but himself.

  Smiling darkly, he turned to follow the tantalizing scent of his prey. He moved at a moderate pace, aware that she would be in a frenzy to escape and most likely tire herself out in a few hours.

  Catam the hunter stalked swiftly, patiently, and didn’t stop until he snared the prize. He never lost his prey. That was what made him so valuable to Captain Mara.

  The Fas brothers had strength galore, but Catam possessed speed, agility and a tenacity that made him one of the best in the business. His added sensual charm with the ladies didn’t hurt either, he thought as he followed the woman through town.

  Too bad his charm had failed with her.

  No matter. He would find her and try again. Eventually he would conquer her resistance and bring them both satisfaction that Catam, for one, desperately needed. Unconsciously or not, she had teased him and left him hurting. He could do no less than find her and exact justice, first for himself, then for Klin’s family.

  Smiling at the thought, he trudged through town, past the stretch of farmland and into the tree line to enter his favorite hunting grounds, the Eron Forest. Night settled over eastern Mardu, and Catam sighed with pleasure, feeling more at home here than he ever did aboard ship.

  Under the thick canopy of trees, the Mardu moons may as well have been nonexistent. Wavery, thin streams of light pierced holes in the blanket of leaves, so Catam allowed his extrasensory perception to flare.

  Suddenly, the night looked bright and clear. He eyed his quarry’s trail with grim satisfaction. In her haste to disappear, she had made no effort to camouflage her escape. Broken vegetation and discernable footprints guided Catam deeper into the forest.

  After an hour, he stopped and took note of his direction. The woman moved south, giving her two possible destinations. Either she planned on losing herself in Easfra, another large city in eastern Mardu, or she was headed toward the southern province.

  He frowned at thoughts of the south. The southern province had no cities or towns. Inhospitable to all but the most hardened of men and women, the southern jungles of Mardu provided comfort to no one.

  Only the crazed or desperate tried to exist in the jungle, where leopards, raptors and kethra, to name just a few, lived to hunt all who invaded their territory.

  She couldn’t possibly be headed there.

  Two hours later he scowled furiously at the trail he followed. He had crossed the Eron Forest and now entered the Fields of Flor. Damn, but she was heading toward the jungle after all. The little idiot was bound to get herself killed in the jungle, if the Fields didn’t destroy her first.

  Furious that she might come to harm, Catam quickened his pace. He convinced himself his anger stemmed from denied satisfaction. For the alternative was something he didn’t understand. How could he care about a person, a thief, he corrected, he had only just met? Hell, he didn’t even know her name.

  Muttering under his breath, he ran swiftly after her, determined to end this nonsense once and for all.

  * * * *

  Isa dropped in an exhausted heap onto the blue bed of moss under the overhang. The forest had provided excellent cover, enough for her to lose anyone trying to follow, surely. Besides, night had fallen hours ago, and she’d heard nothing in the dark silence of the Eron Forest.

  Exiting the forest had felt dangerous, but in order to reach the southern jungles, she’d had to risk discovery. The tall grasses had helped her feel less exposed, as had the notion that no one was that good a tracker, to have stayed with her for over four hours in total silence and through dark, uncharted forest.

  She’d trudged for another two hours before succumbing to fatigue. The small lake and large, hovering rocks provided the perfect place to rest. One of the massive boulders had an inverted L-shape, providing a small ceiling and cover of sorts.

  Now resting under the rock, she had a wall of stone at her back and an expanse of water at her front. While Ithra hid behind a cloud, Aran and Sildor shone brightly, illuminating the vegetation on her left and right.

  Tall green grasses covered in golden arotrope provided a sweet scent to complement the ripples of clear water in front of her.

  Tired beyond measure, Isa settled into the moss bed with ease, her clothes suitable to the temperate climate in the Fields.

  She tried to sleep. Her body desperately needed it, but her mind refused to comply. Images of her dark haired seducer bombarded her thoughts. Stars, but he’d been too physically perfect to be real.

  Isa preferred dark hair and tall, strong-armed men.

  By Flor, she’d gotten her wish with her captor. Black hair teased the nape of his neck, outlining a purely masculine beauty. Dark brows and thick black lashes framed his catlike eyes. And his golden gaze had flamed with carnal appreciation, staring at her with such surprise when she had fled him.

  She sighed at those eyes, feeling them even now caressing her. And his lips ... those lips had been both hard and soft, plying her with pleasure while seducing with promises of erotic sensation. She shivered remembering how he had sucked at her neck, a place she’d never thought of as erogenous.

  The few times Mathan had tried kissing her neck, she’d laughed and pushed him awa
y, tickled by his raspy beard and amused by the slurping sounds he made. Their coupling had been quick and unsatisfying, far from what she’d experienced with her captor just hours ago despite the fact that they hadn’t had sex.

  She squirmed to suppress the quickening in her womb, trying to deny the moisture that pooled between her thighs.

  She closed her eyes tightly and puzzled over her odd behavior. Never before in her twenty-six years had she ever felt so turned on by anyone, and in so brief a time!

  She didn’t know his name, and she didn’t want to know why he chased her. Yet she would have given her soul to feel him deep inside her, to feel him come hard within her body.

  She shook her head and opened her eyes. Staring at the narrow rock ceiling above her, she tried to rationalize her feelings.

  Perhaps the spontaneity of the moment had caused such a rush? No. She wouldn’t be so aroused now if it had only been the moment. Maybe she’d reacted so passionately because it had been so long since she’d had sex. She nodded, thinking that sounded reasonable.

  Yet it didn’t explain why she could picture him so clearly. She could still feel him touching her, now, several hours and several tree fields away.

  She shivered and forced her eyes closed. She would not think of him anymore. She had to focus on the future, and the dangers inherent in her destination.

  Visions of the southern province blended into another image of her captor. In this instance, she clearly saw him pressing her against the wall of the bar in Shathra. This time she imagined him releasing his cock from his trousers. And instead of taking her from the front, he’d turn her around and fuck her from behind.

  She groaned and turned onto her side, clenching her thighs to prevent the throbbing in her loins from growing.

  Damn, but it was all too easy to imagine him taking her that way.

  Unable to stop the comparison, she recalled Mathan’s feeble attempts at creativity. Since it normally took him no more than a few minutes to climax, he hadn’t exactly had the time to try different positions. She frowned. That ‘relationship’ had lasted barely longer than Mathan’s staying time.

  Then of course, there was Teve. He’d at least tried to please her. But after experiencing pleasure with professionals, namely her older sisters, he’d declared her cold by comparison.

  Oddly enough, memories of Teve didn’t bother her like they normally did. Her near-orgasm tonight with the dark stranger must have cured her of her frigidity. Too bad Teve wasn’t here to see it.

  She rolled onto her back again, feeling a little better about herself. Maybe she did have the Araye pleasurer ability after all. Sex with strangers hadn’t appealed to her before, but maybe she was a late bloomer. Maybe she should reject thievery in favor of the sensual arts, like the rest of the females in her family.

  But she couldn’t help grimacing at thoughts of sex with faceless men, and her ardor cooled. Unfortunately, Isa still didn’t have the temperament to fuck. She’d made love to Mathan and Teve, much to her family’s amusement, only to lose them both in the end.

  In retrospect she knew losing them was all for the best. And the pain of her sexual failure didn’t sting as badly as it normally did.

  Perhaps when this situation with the dead statesman cleared, she might find her dark captor and try him on for size. At least then she would know if her one experience with him had been a freak occurrence or a new beginning.

  She reached the point where her eyelids refused to stay open without effort, and she blearily gazed at the waxing moons before drifting to sleep, unaware of the hungry eyes watching her from the grass.

  Chapter Four

  Giving himself a few hours to rest, Catam woke bright-eyed and eager to meet the dawn.

  His internal clock had yet to fail him, and he stared in wonder at the colors streaking Mardu’s southern sky. Lavender and indigo blended, fighting the horizon’s attempt to turn the sky a mild ocher. The moons still glowed, the pale, purple orbs all the more mysterious as their light grazed his quarry hidden under the overhang.

  It had taken much control not to waken her with a drugging kiss the minute he’d found her. But Catam was Xema, and Xema men ruled their baser instincts. Strong in both mind and body, he’d ignored his aching cock and forced himself to sleep.

  Now, however, he paused in thought and peered over the rock he lay on to stare at the woman lying vulnerably on a bed of moss beneath him.

  It was time.

  Retreating from the rock, he stretched his frame atop the overhang and nimbly climbed down the outer rock wall. On silent steps he waded through the rock’s surrounding grass and entered the woman’s shelter, looming over her as if he owned her.

  He grinned, a wide, sensual smile that would have spooked her had she been awake.

  He did own her.

  Her mind, body and soul, until he brought her to Jintak where she’d await trial for the murder of Statesman Klin, belonged to him.

  Even knowing she may have killed the statesman did nothing to ease the ache in his groin. He knew she was dangerous. The effect she had on his cock told him that.

  And in his experience, everyone possessed a hidden well of darkness. So more than likely she had in fact killed the politician.

  What a waste. He scanned her form, partly hidden behind the long jacket that had parted while she slept. One full, rounded breast rose up and down with each breath she took. He couldn’t help staring at perfection, and to his delight her nipple peaked under his regard.

  She’s aware of me at least on one level, he thought with satisfaction. And soon she’ll be extremely aware of me.

  He silently removed everything but his trousers, waiting for her to peel them off, for her to fit her smooth, deft little hands around his cock as she begged him to fill her.

  Thoughts of doing so made him thicken, and he was large and throbbing while he stared at her. He stroked himself through his trousers, willing her to rouse.

  Pleased when her eyes fluttered, he poised to take full advantage of her confused awakening.

  * * * *

  Isa blinked up at an image of the man who wouldn’t leave her mind.

  "By Flor’s dagger, would you just go away already?"

  She couldn’t believe her imagination could be so clear on his every detail. She hadn’t seen his bared upper torso, but she readily anticipated his slim waist, the tight muscles cording his abdomen and the light pelt of hair covering his chest. She could even see his arms rippling with strength, something she had only felt before.

  He smiled, flashing bright white teeth between hard, pale pink lips amidst the dark stubble of facial hair. His brows slashed in sardonic amusement and he crossed his arms, drawing her attention to the lean forearms covering his broad chest.

  She licked her lips and stared, wanting to pet the silky hair covering his body, wishing that just this once she could control her dreams.

  But such was not to be, for her vision shook his head and pursed his lips.

  "Woman, you try me, you surely do," he rasped, his eyes focused on her beading nipples. Her jacket had shifted enough to reveal her breasts, clearly visible through the thin shirt she wore. Though black, the shirt was sheer, made of a material light and stretchy enough not to hinder her necessary agility.

  Heat swirled through her body the more he stared, and her heartbeat increased rapidly when his image refused to fade.

  "You’re not going away."

  "Take off your clothes." He stood over her like a towering warlord bent on plunder. And if the look he wore was anything to go by, he definitely intended on pillaging her.

  She could only blink up at him in bafflement, trying desperately to recall just what had transpired last night. Noting the rising sun, she knew not much time had passed in her sleep.

  "Did you not hear me?" he asked with an arrogant lift of his brow.

  "Okay. You’re definitely not a dream." She sat up slowly, aware of the tension radiating through his godlike body.

 
Subtly glancing at him as she wondered what next to do, her gaze returned swiftly to the heavy bulge in his trousers. He was aroused, and he was huge!

  "Yes, sweet, it’s all for you."

  She gulped and scooted back until she met the wall. Desire flared and she realized she was already wet and aching--for him.

  "My name’s not sweet. It’s Isa." She didn’t understand why she needed him to know her name. Nor did she understand why she didn’t suddenly break away and run for cover.

  "Isa. It suits you." His hands drifted to his hips, affording her a mouthwatering view of his chest. Stars, but he oozed sensuality.

  "Who are you?" she asked breathlessly. She cleared her throat and frowned, not liking this strange, needy Isa.

  "I am Catam, peacemaker, captor, and soon to be your lover."

  His voice rumbled over her like a bolt of silk, soothing and seducing all at once. He knelt down beside her and had her jacket off before she knew what he was about.

  "Wait a minute." She tried to resist.

  Her boots and socks followed and she sat in her sheer shirt and form-hugging trousers, staring agape at Catam.

  His cock seemed to grow before her eyes, straining the taut fabric of his pants.

  "I’m done waiting," he promised, his eyes gleaming against the sun.

  "Well I’m not ready to have you yet," she challenged, feeling daring and sexual and very unlike herself. Her nipples pushed against the fabric of her shirt and she wanted to moan at the sensation.

  "If that’s the way you want it," he murmured and stood. He stripped out of his trousers without hesitation, giving her an eyeful of temptation. His cock stood squarely at attention, seeming to grow the more she looked at it.

  Suddenly he pounced, surprising her with the swiftness of his actions. He had her trousers off and the hem of her shirt in his hands before she knew what had hit her. She barely had a moment to resist before she sat naked before him.