by Ivy Barrett
“Here’s a clean shirt. Anything particular you’d like to eat?”
Unbidden, the image of Mal Ton’s magnificent body flashed through her mind. Fane made a noise suspiciously like a muffled laugh. She gasped. “Can you read my mind?”
“That image required no reading. I’ll teach you how to shield your thoughts.”
He eased the door shut and she let the spray cool her face. Was Mal Ton telepathic too? She thought back on how effortlessly he had anticipated her needs. No one was that perceptive without some form of paranormal help.
Drying with the semi-dirty shirt, she pulled the clean one over her head. This one covered her from neck to knees, but knowing Fane could read her mind made her feel naked. There was no mirror above the sink and she couldn’t find a brush or a comb. She didn’t know much about dreadlocks, but apparently they were wash and go. How did he shave? His beard was short and decorative, not the sort that grew naturally. At least on a human.
“You’re stalling,” Fane called through the door.
Crossing her arms over her chest, she abandoned her momentary refuge. “How telepathic are you?”
“Telepathy refers to the ability to send and receive thoughts.” He sat in the chair with his feet propped on the side of the bed, crossed at the ankle. “Is that what you want to know?”
“What’s the proper word for what you do?”
He grinned. “I do many things.”
“You said you didn’t need to read my mind to see that image. Does that mean you can read my mind if you want to?”
“Reading minds is not as advantageous as you’d think. Most of what goes on inside a person’s mind is annoying babble.”
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He’d moved Mal Ton to one side of the bed and covered his lower body with a sheet. Her uniform top was nowhere in sight. She laid the back of her hand across Mal Ton’s forehead and frowned. “He’s still really hot.”
“So I gathered from your desire to eat him.”
She didn’t take the bait. “Should we be worried about his fever?”
“His condition is stable and will remain so until the inhibitor wears off or we intentionally wake him.”
“What happens then?”
“I fuck you while—”
Heat suffused her face. “Sorry I asked. If I choose not to cooperate, what happens to him?”
“There’s a slight chance he can control the transformation, but it’s far more likely he’ll turn feral and I’ll have to kill him.”
“But that’s what he said about the virus,” she told him. “You said this isn’t caused by the virus.”
“He is mirroring your symptoms because you had started to turn when he sampled your DNA.”
“Why the hell did he sample my DNA?” she cried.
“I don’t think he did it intentionally. He either lost control or saw no other way to force you into remission.”
Her heart sank. “Anyway you phrase it, I did this to him.”
“He knew what he was doing and he knew the risks.”
That’s what she’d been dreading most. It made her resentment so callous. She’d honestly thought Mal Ton just wanted to fuck her.
Someone knocked on the door and Fane jumped up to answer. She sat on the edge of the bed and studied Mal Ton’s face. His lips were slightly parted, their shape sensual yet masculine. Everything about him was sensually masculine. She stroked his cheek with the backs of his fingers, enjoying the contrast between smooth skin and coarse beard. She owed this man her life. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she let him die in her place.
A wide-toothed comb came into her peripheral vision, snapping her from her troubled thoughts. She took it from Fane’s outstretched hand with an amazed smile. “Thank you.”
“Comb out your hair then eat something—other than Mal Ton.” He dragged the chair back where he’d gotten it and pulled out the other for her use.
She crossed to the desk and looked at the tray of food. Nothing looked familiar or particularly appetizing. “I don’t suppose you have coffee?” Pulling her hair over one shoulder, she went to work on the tangled mass.
“I don’t know what coffee is, so I’m afraid not.”
“Damn.” She plopped into her chair with an exaggerated sigh. “Only I could get kidnapped by aliens and end up on a planet without coffee.”
They ate in companionable silence, or rather, she nibbled and he watched her. The dark blue beverage was light and fruity despite its unusual color. It had a pleasant effervescence that tickled her nose.
“How long were you in the military?” he asked as she pushed the tray aside and carried the tall glass of juice back to the bed with her.
“Technically I’m still in the military. But the answer is fourteen years.”
“What is your role or expertise?”
“I do many things.” She smiled behind her glass. It felt good to be the evader for a change.
“Do you have a mate?”
“Will you reconsider the course of action if I do?”
“No.”
“Then why ask?”
He shrugged. “You were a patient of Andrea’s. What was your affliction?”
“Infertility.”
“How did recoding your genetics result in your immortality?”
“I’m not immortal.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose and scooted back against the wall. What was left of the juice sloshed in the bottom of the glass. “I’m aging so slowly it’s undetectable. That doesn’t protect me from alien viruses or weapons fire.”
He stared at her expectantly and the hairs on the back of her neck bristled. Heat spread from her belly outward, making her feel… fuzzy. She looked at the blue juice suspiciously. “What did you put in this?”
“There is nothing in it. Bental juice is naturally sedating.” He rescued the glass from her hand as she slumped against the wall. “You obviously needed help relaxing.” Setting the glass aside, he pulled her down across the bed and arranged her arms at her sides. “It will wear off in a little while. Now go to sleep.”
* * *
When Lorelle woke she was curled against Mal Ton’s side, enveloped by his warmth and wrapped in his strong arms. Nothing had ever felt so natural, so right. Her logical mind balked at the contentment, but it made no difference to her heart. She savored the peaceful lethargy. Moments like these were far too precious and fleeting.
Most of the candles had sputtered out, leaving the room in shadow. The mutants had spaceships and computers, but relied on candlelight? She didn’t understand the contradiction. There was a lot about this place she didn’t understand.
Her head rested on his shoulder and her fingers splayed across his chest. She stroked the impressive slope of one pectoral and then the other. Were all Stilox males naturally smooth? She grinned at the irrelevant thought and propped herself on her elbow so she could see him more clearly.
His features were relaxed and peaceful. Without his fierce stare, he didn’t seem nearly so intimidating, yet he was every bit as appealing. How long did she have before Fane returned? There was so much she wanted to know, so much she needed to tell them. But Mal Ton’s recovery had to come first.
A guilty smile parted her lips as her mind twisted the phrase. If her short experience with Mal Ton was any indication, she would come first. She would come over and over… but Mal Ton wasn’t in control, Fane was. Would Fane be as concerned with her pleasure as Mal Ton had been, or would he be focused entirely on saving his friend?
She didn’t have long to wait for her answers. Fane entered a few minutes later with a cloth bag tucked under one arm. He smiled at her and closed the door. She heard the lock activate and realized he’d triggered it with his mind. What else could he do with the power of thought? In most societies the strongest were chosen as leaders and Fane led people like Sean. His abilities must be amazing.
“Did you sleep well?”
“
How long was I out?”
“Not as long as I would have liked. I’d hoped to get some things ready while you were sleeping.”
She scooted to the edge of the bed and swung her feet over the side. “That sounds ominous.”
“It doesn’t need to be.” He set the bundle on the floor and moved one of the chairs to the middle of the room. “It all depends on how we approach this. I’m gathering from your hesitation that humans are primarily a monogamist society.”
“That’s a sweeping generalization, but for the most part it’s true.”
“For the purpose of this discussion, we’ll stick with what is generally accepted. What is the human attitude regarding sex?”
She shook her head. “That’s much harder to define. Some humans treat sex like a recreational sport while others consider it the ultimate expression of love.”
“How do you perceive it?”
“Somewhere in the middle.” What utter crap. Excluding Mal Ton, she’d never had sex with anyone she didn’t know well and care about deeply. She was far more comfortable kicking ass than making love, so her affairs had been few and far between. “My occupation has made sexual relationships complicated. I’ve—”
“Sexual relationships? Do you have to be in a relationship with someone to enjoy fucking them?”
She licked her lips and thought about Mal Ton. How much of what she’d experienced with him had been the virus and how much elemental attraction? Death had been a better choice than the guards, yet she’d felt a connection to Mal Ton the moment he revealed his true form.
“That’s how it has worked for me in the past,” she admitted.
“The virus is in remission. Are you still attracted to Mal Ton?”
“Definitely.”
After a short pause he asked, “Are you attracted to me?”
She knew where this was leading. She glanced at the bed then tucked her hair behind her ear. Could she really fuck them both?
He smiled and rested his hands on the back of the chair. “I find you extremely attractive, but I would be willing to do this even if I didn’t. Mal Ton is important to me and he’s important to our cause.”
There was a wealth of meaning in his tone. She couldn’t decipher all the emotions gleaming in his gaze, but it was a glimpse into the darker, more intense side of Fane’s psyche. “Are you… intimate with Mal Ton?”
“Not in the way you mean. We have known each other longer than you’ve been alive and are extremely close, but our relationship is not sexual.”
She looked at Fane objectively. At one time he had been handsome. Hints of his appeal still lingered, but his eyes were too big for his face and his cheeks were painfully hollow. “Have you…?” How did you ask someone why they looked malnourished?
“If it weren’t for Andrea Raynier I’d be dead,” he answered her half-formed question. “Each day I grow stronger but I’m still recovering.”
“I’m sorry.”
He laughed and pushed the chair out of the way. “You’re sorry I survived?”
“I’m sorry I come from a society that puts so much emphasis on physical appearance. You’ve been kind to me and you’re loyal. You’ve put me at ease since you walked into the room. You’re incredibly easy to talk to. These are all wonderful qualities.”
“But we don’t need to talk.” He advanced with obvious purpose, his gaze fixed on her mouth. “We need to fuck. And your responses can’t be faked or we’re wasting our time. Is that going to be a problem for you?”
“I don’t think so.”
Grasping her by the upper arms, he pulled her to her feet. “I say we find out.” He framed her face with his hands and pressed his lips over hers. She wrapped her arms around his back and closed her eyes. He smelled clean and faintly spicy, like incense or aftershave. His mouth was warm, the kiss firm yet patient. She opened for him, waiting for the slide of his tongue.
Mal Ton tossed restlessly, muttering in his sleep.
“Your bond is strong.” Fane stepped back and lowered his hands. “We better restrain him now.”
“Why does he need to be restrained?”
“Because I’m about to fuck his mate.”
“His what?”
He ignored her outburst and retrieved wrist cuffs from inside the bag. “Don’t be frightened if he growls. I won’t let him hurt you.”
Her heart lurched at the possibility. A snarling, out-of-control Mal Ton wasn’t something she wanted to face without a pulse pistol. She couldn’t see Fane’s face, but she detected no amusement in his tone. Was he intentionally upsetting her? Emotions equaled energy and Mal Ton needed energy.
Fane walked to the far side of the bed. “Help me scoot him into the middle.” Mal Ton twisted away from Fane. “Move closer to the bed. He’ll follow your scent.”
I’m about to fuck his mate. Fane’s words echoed through her mind. She wasn’t anyone’s mate! Yet Mal Ton followed her like a beacon, rolling up onto his side as she neared. Oh, this wasn’t good.
Fane closed the restraint around one of Mal Ton’s wrists then passed it behind a stout pipe protruding from the wall before securing the other cuff. Mal Ton’s arms were extended above his head and the sheet rode low on his hips. Already she detected the bulge of his rising erection.
Returning to her side of the bed, Fane pulled her into his arms. “The inhibitor is starting to wear off. We need to get started.”
There was an urgency in his movements that hadn’t been there before. His mouth sealed over hers while their tongues danced. Her heartbeat sped and her core melted. She clutched his back, pleased to find a firm layer of muscle. He wasn’t nearly as weak as she’d first thought.
He separated from her long enough to discard his tunic then pulled the chair closer to the bed. His torso rippled, his abdomen tight and defined. When combined with his ultra-lean body, his angular features took on a menacing allure. He looked… dangerous.
Noticing her heated stare, he grinned. “There was a time, not too long ago, when I could have taken on Mal Ton.” He sat down on the chair and held out his hand. “Come here.”
Her anxiety grew with each step. Finding him physically attractive did nothing to soothe her nerves. If she allowed his touch out of obligation to Mal Ton, the sacrifice was selfless and noble. Wanting them both just made her a slut! And she could no longer blame her behavior on the virus.
He insinuated one knee between her legs and then the other, pulling her down to straddle his thighs. “Should I put my shirt back on? You seemed far more comfortable when you thought I was frail and personable.”
The gentle mockery in his tone was unmistakable. She had completely misjudged him and he found it amusing. His warm hands slid up her legs and under her shirt, coming to rest on her hips. Her position put their faces on a level and she stared into his eyes.
“This isn’t something you can passively accept,” he told her. “We need your passion, your abandon, your primal energy. It can’t be done to you. You must be an active participant. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
“Then take off your shirt.”
Her ass was no longer red from Mal Ton’s spanking and Fane already knew she’d fucked Mal Ton. There was really no reason left to hesitate. With a deep, calming breath, she pulled the shirt off over her head and let it fall to the floor. His gaze swept from her face to her breasts, descended to her sex then returned to her face.
“You have a beautiful body to match your beautiful face.” A sexy smile parted his lips. “Do you touch yourself?”
She licked her lips and averted her gaze. “Everyone touches themselves. When I’m on a mission that’s often the only way I can get release.”
“Do you use some sort of aid or just your fingers?”
He could only embarrass her if she let him. “I have a vibrator.”
“Do you crave fullness or just clitoral stimulation?”
“Are we going to talk or fuck?�
�� She reached between their bodies and covered the bulge in his pants with her hand. “It feels like you’re ready to me.”
“I’ve been ready since I first saw you. My inhibitions are not the obstacle.”
She guided his hand to her breast. “Talking will make me more inhibited. I’ve always been more comfortable with action.”
He grasped the back of her neck and pulled her face to his, ending the conversation with a demanding kiss. His other hand squeezed her breast, his thumb teasing the nipple. She stroked his chest and shoulders, sifting his soft hair through her fingers.
“Grab my knees,” he whispered against her lips.
She reached behind her and found his knees, arching her back in the process. His legs moved apart and hers spread right along with them. Her bottom started to slip between his thighs, so she locked her elbows.
“Perfect.” He caught her nipple between his teeth and laved the very tip with his tongue. One hand pressed against the small of her back while the other traced her slit. “Nothing is softer than a wet pussy. Nothing more evocative.”
His fingers caressed her folds while his thumb rubbed her outer lips. Her body came alive, melting and relaxing as he gently stroked her. He circled her entrance, focusing her attention on the ache gathering there. Her clit tingled, protesting its neglect. She dropped her head back on her shoulders and rotated her hips.
“Be still. Let the sensations build.”
Mal Ton’s restlessness grew in tandem with her arousal. Fane pushed his fingers into her core and she whimpered, her inner muscles quivering around him. He circled her clit with his thumb and Mal Ton growled. Sensations sprang up deep inside her—heat, tension, and expectancy. Fane pulled out and moved his wet fingers to her clit, leaving her passage hollow and throbbing.
She gripped his knees, desperate to move, craving the tingling pleasure hovering just out of reach.
“Not yet.” He took his hand away and she hissed out a breath. “Coming now would be a waste of energy.” He lifted her off his lap and stood, then motioned to the chair he’d just vacated. “Bend over and rest your forearms on the seat. Keep your legs straight, ass in the air.”