by Kim Knox
“Still.”
His growl swept warm air over licked skin and the raw sensation shot to her pussy. Chance closed her eyes and tried to deny it. She failed. He would lick her, eat her, and that thought had a hot tension curling tight in her belly. She’d never allowed a man that intimacy. Never.
Ramius’ tongue licked a wet line down her thigh as he settled onto the mattress, edging closer until his breath brushed over her mons. Chance fisted the smooth blankets, her nerves in riot. She felt too vulnerable, too open, and the urge to kick out, to protect herself—
“You need me here.” His lips brushed the pale curls on her mons, his tongue-tip teasing the crease of her thigh. Chance almost squealed. Ramius gripped her thighs, pinning her to the mattress. “If you didn’t, then I wouldn’t be compelled to eat you till you screamed.”
The first long lick of his hot tongue drew a whimper from her. The heavy, hard grip of his hands on her thighs, holding her, controlling her, tightened the first threads of orgasm low in her belly. It made no sense, she didn’t want it, but the clever flicks, licks…and then his insane, soft little hums ripped a low groan from her mouth.
Her body shook and Ramius’ fingers bit into the firm muscles of her thighs as her hips pushed involuntarily against his hungry mouth. Fire seared under her hot skin. She couldn’t fight the power of it any longer. Her own short breaths dizzied her thoughts, and the quick, satisfied laps of Ramius’ tongue broke her. Out of nowhere, orgasm exploded over her in a wild, shocking surge, arching her spine, blinding her.
She cried out, hardly recognising her own voice, before her body, damp, sated, sank back to the hard mattress. Chance caught her fingers in her tangled hair, shivering as Ramius dropped wet kisses against her inner thigh. “That was…” Words failed her. She couldn’t remember coming so hard in her life before. Ever.
Ramius kissed her belly, sliding hot hands over her hips and waist as his mouth explored its way up her body. He teased the underside of her breast and Chance sucked in a surprised breath at the riot of fresh need surging through her flesh. He smiled against her skin. The intimate, affectionate gesture tightened her heart.
Chance wanted to push him away, the old panic surging. He was too much. No one got close to her and she didn’t get close to them—
“Sh-h-h.” Ramius pulled her close to his chest, wrapping his arms around her. The solid thud of his heartbeat under her ear and the security of his hold made breathing too hard. Chance shut her eyes and willed air to find its way into her lungs. “Relax, Chance.” His fingers stroked along her spine, and he pressed a kiss into her hair. “I want what you want.”
“What sick game is this?” She hated the weakness in her voice, the hesitation.
“No game,” Ramius murmured, teasing his fingers over the curve of her hip. “Your subconscious was screaming. I couldn’t ignore it.” His warm fingers brushed light over her backside and his voice softened. Ramius held her to him, and the hardness of his cock pressed into her belly. “Didn’t want to. It’s been a while since anyone wanted—”
He stopped and, for a brief second, Chance almost felt more words before they faded back and became elusive, unreal. “What?”
“Tenderness.”
The word broke her. She buried her face against the soft down of his chest and hoped the tears didn’t leak onto his skin. Cautious, nervous, Chance slid her arm over his waist and pulled him into an ever-tightening hug. “I don’t get close to people. They die.” She admitted it on a heavy sigh and closed her eyes, breathing in his spiced scent, mixed with sweat and her. “Happy?”
Ramius ran fingers over her skin until he lifted her chin. Shadow carved his unreadable face. “It’s my curse.” His thumb traced over her lower lip. “I have to give what you need.” He leaned in to kiss her, his lips cool and tasting of her. “Taking control, being gentle with you.” He deepened the kiss before he murmured, “I’ll have to pay for this luxury.”
“I’m a luxury?” Nerves cramped her stomach. She was in new territory. Men were for having sex with, or using in a myriad of ways. Not for talking to, not for having the ability to slide under her skin and make her want more than a quick fuck.
Ramius buried his face in her neck, and his chest expanded as he breathed her in. “Yes, you are.”
Chance ran her fingers over his smooth, hot skin, feeling him shift and sigh under her light touch. John Ramius made no sense. He didn’t deny killing the men on the trading base. Hell, he’d taken out Connor’s personal guard in a matter of minutes…but with her, he’d been gentle, considerate. Because, even unconsciously, that was what she needed from him? “Who wanted you to kill, Ramius?”
He laughed, the warmth brushing against her skin and making her shiver. “You’re sharp.” His lips chased along her shoulder, little nips and licks flicking sensation to her tightened belly. “Sharper than the psychs.” He grinned against her collarbone. “They couldn’t even work out I was telepathic.”
“So who…” Butterfly kisses covered her breast, and she arched into his clever mouth, her question broken. Damn him. “Ramius?”
His tongue curled over her nipple and he met her gaze before his eyes dropped away…but pain lurked there. “Chloe Van Der Zee.” He let out a heavy breath, and a shiver rippled over her skin. “The administrator of the Sinope base.”
Something lurked in his voice—regret, longing—and Chance’s gut twisted. She wanted to laugh at herself. And there was the reason she didn’t get close to anyone: stupid emotions. The first twists of jealousy rose through her chest, but she crushed them and ran her fingers through the wildness of his dark hair. “You were her security consultant.”
His tongue teased under her breast, and she moaned. Damn, that raw sensation was still a surprise. “I was more than that.”
Chance’s fingers fisted in his hair. Shit, she had to get a grip…and not just of his hair. She willed her fingers loose and stroked strands back, the slow, sure glide calming her. But still, unease pushed through her and the alien need to offer comfort came with it. She winced and made herself say it. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.
Ramius smiled against her breast and pressed a soft kiss. “No more talk of Chloe,” he said, and she felt the pain and steel under his words. He looked up and the dark promise in his eyes hitched her breath. “Time to give you what you need.”
His mouth took hers in a ruthless kiss. He pulled her tight to him, holding her, wrapping his strength around her. The heat of his tongue, the intoxicating mix of his taste and hers, rioted through her flesh. Her hands slid over his hips, his buttocks, and she shifted her body under him. Chance wanted him inside of her, but in a long, slow, delicious tease until she arched under him and screamed his name.
“Now you’re getting it.” He growled the words against her mouth. His hand brushed between them and she gasped as his knuckles brushed over her pussy, the sudden contact electric. He gripped his cock and the torment of the blunt head sliding slowly over her slick flesh made her cling to him…but she didn’t protest.
Ramius was in control and, even in so short a time, she’d learned how much pleasure that could bring.
“Yes, a very quick learner.”
He eased into her body and his groan mixed with hers. His mouth found hers again, his kiss thorough, melting as he sank deep. Chance wrapped her arms around him, shifting her hips, her thighs, to settle him hot against her flesh. The stroke of his tongue against hers, clever and intoxicating, had fresh coils of need tightening in her belly. Damn, the man could kiss.
The easy thrust of his hips scattered her thoughts. There was only her, him, his incredible, incredible mouth and the slow slide of him into her body. Already the first flutters of orgasm pushed her hips harder against his, her hands grabbing at the smooth muscles in his back. She wanted him, harder, faster, but Ramius didn’t increase his rhythm.
He was inexorable, in complete control of her and of himself, and that knowledge arched her spine, forced her hard against his slic
k skin. Chance clung to him as the flutters strengthened, as the slow, slow waves of her release pushed up from her belly to surge through her flesh. She mewled and Ramius swallowed her increasing cries, driving the intensity, the power of the orgasm. Then it hit, smashing over her thoughts in a rush of heat and light. She screamed into Ramius’ mouth, her fingers curling into shaking fists, her thighs gripping him.
He ripped his mouth from hers and came with a low, strangled groan, pulling her into the tightest hug. Burying his face in the curve of her shoulder, he released a long, slow sigh. “Thank you,” he murmured, rolling onto his side and taking her with him. He tugged at the loosened blankets and covered them both.
He stroked a slow hand down her damp spine, and Chance, she hated to admit it, needed to snuggle into the softened down of his chest. His heartbeat, slowing into a solid, even rhythm, soothed her. She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent as the events of the day hit her tired and sated body.
A weary smile tugged at her mouth. She wanted the ship to take a little longer to repair itself. She pressed a kiss just above his nipple and worked herself back into an alien closeness with him. He kissed her tangled hair and her heart skipped.
Waking up to John Ramius? That could prove to be dangerously addictive.
Chapter Six
Ramius brushed Chance’s white-blonde hair from her face. Asleep, all of her attitude fell away and her youth shone through. Her loneliness, her craving for affection, had screamed at him and he should’ve resisted, but what she wanted tugged at his own needs. He sighed and she shifted in his arms, murmuring softly before kissing his collarbone and settling back into sleep.
His chest tightened and for the first time in a long time, he felt like a complete and utter shit. An ancient pain lurked in her past, he could feel it, shrouded by layers of protective time. That drove her, drove everything about her…and he’d let his mind connect with it, push him into becoming what she needed, what he needed to be after the horror—
Ramius shut his mind to his own past. Chance moved restlessly against his tense body, and he focused on finding peace and letting himself relax. He kissed her forehead, lingering over the taste of her skin, the soapy scent of her hair, before he willed himself to pull back. He eased free of her body, and the suddenly chill air forced a shiver.
Chance curled around a pillow and muttered something before dropping into a deeper sleep. A smile pulled at his mouth, but then it faded. He couldn’t drag Chance into his fucked-up life; well, anymore than he had already. Ramius turned to the small shower room, needing to wash away the scent of the detention cells, the dead guards—and, reluctantly, the sleeping woman—from his skin.
He lifted his face to the showerhead, the cool water needling his cheeks, forehead, chin, and for a few seconds he let himself enjoy the luxury of a real-water shower. “Enough,” he muttered and snapped off the flow of water. He grabbed a towel and dried his skin. He hadn’t escaped and killed those guards to enjoy Chance and a shower. Ishaan West still lived. And from the second West had caught Chloe and made an “example” of her, Ramius had sworn to kill him.
He blew out a slow breath, feeling the old surge of hatred and the need to kill rising through him. The imperative to kill West still held him over all others. His palm swiped over the communicator on the wall set beside the metal sink. “How long until your repairs are complete, Drew?”
“I will be in full operation within the hour, John.”
He didn’t miss the hint of need in its synthesised voice. “Good work,” he said. “Let me know when we’re ready to go.”
“Yes, John.”
A bitter smile curved his mouth. He really should’ve stopped that familiarity, but the ship was young, inexperienced. He’d let it slide a while longer.
He stared into the wide mirror fixed over the sink. Spots of sharp white light bleached his skin, and he wasn’t imagining the weariness in his own gaze. A year since they’d all died, men and women he’d called good friends butchered, all for the insane idea that their actions could change the fact that the Jovian outer governors enslaved their workers. He’d followed Chloe, believing more in her than in her cause. He scrubbed at his still-smooth jaw and the old pain formed a tight fist in his gut. And in the end, he’d failed her, seen her die at West’s hands.
Ramius straightened as old memories threatened to swamp him. He ran his fingers through his damp hair and smoothed it into place. Time to get dressed and break the news to Chance that he’d have to change their bargain. He winced. She would not take it well.
“Chance, time to get up.”
Light fingers brushed over her hair, and she bolted upright, her thoughts stabbing outward. Find the offender’s implant and slap it. Hard. Nobody touched her without her permission—
“Always wake up that way?”
John Ramius. The previous few hours rushed through her brain. Escaped death on a now broken Maro Vitesse…and she was naked…because she’d had sex with him. Her cheeks burned and strange modesty gripped her. She pulled the smooth blanket over her breasts. She could tell herself it was due to the cool air, but then she would be lying. Ramius made her feel…gauche.
Pulling in a tight breath, she swung her legs down to the metal floor. It pressed cool against her bare soles. “Yes, I do,” she muttered. She scratched at her scalp and squinted at him as he leaned against the counter, a mug in his hand. Damn it, he was dressed. Though the crisp, black uniform of one of the chancellor’s guards did look almost edible on his long, lean body. She crossed her legs under the blanket and ignored the increased ache low in her belly. “How long was I asleep?”
“Just over an hour.”
She gave him a smirk; she couldn’t help herself. “Had to wake me, did you?”
Ramius’ eyes narrowed and for a brief moment, desire darkened his green eyes…but then it faded. He drained his mug and put it on the counter. “The ship has almost finished repairs.” He lifted his chin and Chance’s gut tightened. The hard, uncompromising Ramius had reared his head. “And I need it. Our deal is off.”
Chance rose slowly to her feet, her fists holding the blanket tight to her breast and hip. Her head tilted. “Off?” The quiet tone belied her increasing anger. He’d used her. Did he seriously think one fuck would make her roll over and play nice?
“I escaped for a reason. I have unfinished business with the outer governor.”
“This is my ship now.” She held his gaze, finding no emotion in the man, no regret, no concern, nothing. “And you need a pilot.”
“I can find a pilot.” He straightened and pointed to the open doorway. “Shower.” A sharp smile tugged at his mouth, and he patted the chair in front of him, piled with clothes. “Connor has some things small enough to fit you.”
“Funny.” She glared at him. “I am not giving up this ship.”
“I plan to discuss my problems with Ishaan West. In person. With knives.” He let out a slow breath and his fingers drummed against the butt of the weapon strapped to his thigh. “I’m giving you an out, Chance.”
Her gaze dropped to the gun and fear ran hot through her body. “So you’re going back on that deal too?”
“What are you talking about?”
She tugged the blanket tight around her body. Her knuckles ached and her fist pressed hard into her breastbone. She willed strength into her voice, because he would not see her weak. “The promise not to kill me.”
Ramius’ fingers stopped drumming and he stared at her. “I’m not going to kill you.”
“Yeah? How am I different?”
He ran his fingers through his damp hair. “This is what I have to do.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. “You understood that.”
Chloe Van Der Zee. The dead woman’s name was almost a curse in her mind and Chance hated that Ramius had twisted her into thinking petty thoughts. “You’re still, what, beholden to her?” She stopped herself from biting her lip. Fuck, now she even sounded needy, clinging. Chance lifted her chin. “This
is my ship. Payment for getting you off that detention base. I’m not giving him up.”
“This is not open to discussion. Shower, dress, and then we’ll stop at a base. You disappear. Then when my business is complete, the ship will find you.”
“And you expect me to believe you?”
“You have my word.” With that, he left the room, the door to the auxiliary command sliding shut behind him.
“So that’s just fine, then?” Chance shook her head. Now she was talking to thin air. Damn, the man had her normally practical and cynical brain in a complete mess.
She glanced at the open door to the shower room. It made sense to wash and dress. Then she’d have another round with Ramius.
Chance stepped into the shower cubicle, and the clear door wrapped around behind her. Water splashed over her body, and she sucked in a quick breath at the sudden hot rush against her body. She rubbed a hand over her wet belly, and the suds foamed under her palm to slide down her thighs. She let out a long breath. Oh, this would be very pleasant when the ship was hers, a real water shower every day.
Her fingers formed a fist against her skin.
Ramius was insane—she snorted—hell, of course he was. He had the documentation to prove it. How did he think he could get to the outer governor? He was one man, even if he did have the reputation of being the Butcher.
For a long moment, Chance let the water cascade over her hair, and she scrubbed at her scalp, foaming lather. She found it hard to reconcile his reputation with the man who had shown her so much tenderness. Was it all about his telepathic ability? He became whoever the particular woman needed him to be?
She let the water run and it eased away the suds from her hair and body. “And doesn’t that make me feel special. I’m an emotionally stunted woman with a craving for dominance.” Chance snapped off the quick flow of water and grabbed a towel. She scrubbed her skin dry and padded back to find the clothes Ramius had hunted out.