WarlordsBounty

by Cynthia Sax

  Zeta turned on him, the muzzle of her gun pointed at his chest. “What did you do?”

  He winced, his eardrums ringing, his gerel’s rage as loud as her passion. “I had the door replaced.”

  “You had my ship’s door replaced.” The red in her face crept down Zeta’s neck and disappeared under her deep blue flight suit. “You had no right to touch my ship, fugitive.”

  “You’re welcome,” Khan muttered, his fiercely independent female difficult to please.

  “You’re not welcome.” She stomped up to her ship and slammed her palm against the control panel. The repaired door lowered into a ramp. “I don’t—”

  “Need me. I know.” Khan marched into the vessel, ducking his head as he entered. “For a being who doesn’t want or need anyone else, you have a very large ship.” Lights flickered to life around him.

  “My ship is none of your concern. The containment chamber is to the left.” Zeta nudged him with her gun.

  He ignored her directions, passed the small dark room, and moved along the narrow corridors. She huffed and puffed behind him, muttering curse words in multiple languages, his female having a vocabulary rivaling that of his crudest warrior.

  Khan proceeded to the bridge and cast a curious glance around the large space where Zeta, as the ship’s captain and sole crew member, spent much of her time. Closed viewscreens surrounded him, casting shadows on the empty seats, the consoles devoid of any personal effects, the color scheme black and silver and forbiddingly sterile.

  Khan pressed his lips together, suppressing his anger, a containment chamber on a Chamele warship more welcoming than Zeta’s workspace. He stalked to the center of the barren room and claimed the first officer’s seat as his, that chair situated closest to the captain’s.

  “You’re not sitting there.” Gold sparked in Zeta’s brown eyes and pink flushed her pale cheeks, her anger resembling a raging storm, turbulent and beautiful. “I don’t keep fugitives on my bridge.”

  “You do now. I go where you go.” Khan shifted in the chair, seeking to find a comfortable position, his bound arms pressing against the seatback. “I’m too dangerous to allow out of your sight.”

  “You are dangerous.” Zeta studied him, her hands resting on her shapely hips. “And I don’t have time to argue with you. The sun will set soon.” She crouched at his feet and fastened his ankles to the chair, restraints he could break with one solid kick. “Bend over.”

  Khan leaned forward and she reached over him, her breasts a tongue’s length away from his face, the scent of her wet pussy swirling around them, torturing him. He rumbled with contentment as she glided her hands along his back and fumbled with his restraints, releasing him.

  Khan grabbed her waist and she squeaked. “Don’t you—”

  He pulled her toward him, slid her onto his lap and covered her mouth with his, savoring her tartness, her flavor resembling full-sun nogoi, a delicacy on his planet. She squirmed, offering a halfhearted resistance.

  Khan captured her beautiful face between his rough palms and she quieted, their embrace gentling, her slender fingers stroking along his neck up and down, up and down. They breathed in harmony, their bodies fitting together, one.

  “I like the way you subdue me, gerel.” He kissed the freckle on the tip of her nose and she blinked, her long lashes fluttering. “I should have allowed you to capture me sooner.”

  “Allowed me to capture you.” Zeta pulled away from him, cool air rushing between them. “This is part of your plan.”

  “My brother’s plan.” Khan nodded.

  “I need to know.” She took a ragged breath, her chest rising and falling. “According to this plan of yours, will I?” She gazed at his neck, her head bowed, his reckless female uncharacteristically hesitant. “Will I be hurt?”

  His heart twisted. “Never.” Khan cupped her chin, raising her gaze to meet his. “I’d never allow you to be hurt, Zeta. You are my gerel, my light, the only female who will ever satisfy me. Without you, my future would be meaningless.” He brushed his thumb over her trembling bottom lip, reveling in her softness. “You may not need me but I need you and I’ll protect you with my life.”

  “I can protect myself.” She turned her face away from him. “I have to.” She stood and Khan didn’t attempt to stop her, his independent female requiring space. “Because you’ll leave me.”

  He said nothing, leaving her temporarily part of Berke’s plan, his plan to end the fighting, to stop the needless taking of innocent females and children.

  Zeta sighed, the sound pulling at his heart. “You will leave me.” She moved to the captain’s seat and strapped herself in, her body appearing small and fragile cradled by the large leather chair. “I’ll trade you for the credits the school needs and you’ll advance to the next step of your plan.” She tapped her controls and the viewscreen opened, twilight casting an eerie blue glow over the sand dunes.

  “Whatever that plan is.” Zeta glanced at him, her forehead furrowed with thought lines, her fingers playing with the leather strap in her hair. Khan met her gaze and she looked away. “I shouldn’t care what it is. I’m a bounty hunter and this is my job.”

  Shouldn’t care. Khan widened his eyes, surprised by her inadvertent admission.

  “Ship, chart a course to orbit Chamele 4,” Zeta commanded, her voice level and strong. “Engage.”

  Chapter Four

  “Why haven’t you contacted the client?” Khan asked the same question Zeta had been pondering all evening. “We’ve been orbiting Chamele 4 for five hours.” He trailed behind her as she walked toward her sleeping chambers, his wrists restrained, his constant presence by her side strangely comforting.

  “I’m in no hurry.” Although I should be. She placed her palm on the control panel and the doors slid open, revealing the big bed she normally slept in alone, walls covered with blank viewscreens, and the dimly lit passageway to the small bathing chamber. I only have fifteen days to earn those credits.

  Zeta tugged the fastener out of her hair and placed it carefully on a floating tabletop, the sole object on the shiny surface. Khan watched her, a knowing glint in his dark eyes, but for once, he kept his incorrect conclusions to himself.

  I shouldn’t care what he thinks.

  “Sit here.” She patted the foot of the bed, her voice curt, her weakness for him, her fugitive, irritating her.

  The bed’s surface sagged as Khan silently obeyed. Zeta pushed on a wall panel. A drawer opened and she searched through the restraints, finding one with the retractable capabilities she needed.

  “This will allow you to utilize the bathing chamber.” Her face heated at the image of him standing in the sonar shower, rubbing his fingers over his golden-brown skin, cupping his balls and stroking his shaft.

  Zeta kneeled by his legs, her nipples tight and her pussy moist, aware of the hard ridge in his leather leg coverings. She slowly unfastened his right boot, a task a slave might do for her master.

  Except he’s not my master. He’s my prisoner. Zeta slipped the restraint around his bare ankle, his feet huge and tanned and sexy, and she fastened the chain of energy to the bed. As she straightened, she skimmed her fingertips over his sole, unable to resist caressing him, and his toes curled.

  “Yes, touch me, gerel.” Khan lay back on the bed and stretched his arms over his head, his magnificent body displayed, the leather over his torso pulling tight.

  “This can’t be comfortable.” Zeta ran her palms up his flat stomach, unfastening his chest covering, pushing the garment upward, revealing sun-kissed skin and muscle. He lifted his shoulders and she tugged the leather over his head, draping it over his restraints. “Better.”

  “Much.” He watched her with sexy sleepy eyes, docilely waiting for her next move.

  I’m in control. She dragged her fingernails over his chest and he shuddered, his cock pressing against his leg coverings. Zeta followed her fingers with her tongue, licking the salt off his skin, and his muscles rippled. Male perfe
ction.

  She swirled the tip of her tongue around the indent in his stomach, drawing an arousing growl from deep within his throat. He pushed his hips upward, his bulge prominent.

  I shouldn’t want him this much. Zeta slid her fingertips under his waistband, his body hot to the touch, and she nipped one of his abdominal muscles, leaving her mark on him. But I do, I do want him, need him.

  “Strip me bare, Zeta,” he commanded, the restraints not subduing his arrogance. “Set my cock free.”

  “This cock?” she teased, cupping him, the hard ridge filling her hand. He nodded, his jaw jutted. “It does seem rather…hmmm…confined.” Zeta peeled the leather away from him, liberating his shaft, his cock head dark and angry, his veins raised. “Better?”

  “Yes.” He lifted his ass.

  Zeta obligingly tugged his leg coverings down to his knees and he lowered once more, his thighs corded with muscle, his strength hers to use. She grazed her fingers down his hipbones, relishing the maleness of him. Khan’s cock bobbed, demanding attention, and she tapped his tip lightly.

  “Stop your abuse,” he growled. “And mount me. I need you around my shaft.”

  She smiled at him, his impatience matching hers, her pussy wet and needy. “I’ve never abused a fugitive.” Zeta weighed his heavy balls in her palm, rolling them with her fingers. “Though with you, I’m tempted to make an exception.”

  “Zeta,” he rumbled.

  She shed her clothes quickly, responding to his implied threat, not pushing his compliance. “Patience, Khan. You’re no longer the powerful Warlord,” she reminded him. “You’re my prisoner.” Zeta straddled his hips and positioned herself over his tip.

  “Your body is mine to trade.” She rubbed her wet folds over him, teasing both of them, needing him as much as he needed her. “Mine to take.” Zeta sank down, impaling herself on his hard cock, his tip grazing along her pussy walls deeper and deeper and deeper.

  “Yours.” Khan pushed upward, into her, his base smacking against her entrance, their connection strengthening, intensifying, not to be ignored or denied.

  “All mine,” Zeta recklessly claimed her barbarian. She sat upon him, filled with his shaft, pleased with herself for taking all of him, her spine straight and her body stretched.

  “Prove it.” He gazed up at her breasts and licked his lips slowly, thoroughly, hungrily. “Force me to bond with you. Make me come.” His dark eyes flashed with a challenge Zeta couldn’t resist.

  She bent over him, flattened her palms on his shoulders and rocked, the slide of cock in pussy delectably shallow, coaxing the flames of passion within her to flint and burn. Khan rolled his hips under her, grinding into her pussy, bathing in her juices.

  Zeta swept her mouth over his. He caught her lips between his teeth and he pulled, marking, stretching her skin.

  Stars, I need him. She rose and fell higher and faster upon him, her breasts bouncing, her ass smacking on his thighs. Khan drove his hips upward, his thrusts jolting her body, his movements limited yet effective. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down Zeta’s back, the tiny fingers of moisture caressing her.

  Khan strained against his energy chains, captured by them, by her. He’s my prisoner and he has no choice but to take this, to take me. Zeta fucked him harder, having never crossed this line with a fugitive before, unwilling and unable to stop.

  “This is wrong.” She ravished his body, using his big cock for her own satisfaction, her own pleasure. “So very wrong.” Passion coiled tighter and tighter around her, hampering her breathing, her pussy constricting around his shaft.

  “Tell me to stop and I will.” Zeta met his stormy gaze, close to coming, needing to hear once again that he consented to this, guilt edging her desire. “Tell me, Khan.”

  “Stop now and I’ll break these chains,” Khan warned. “I’ll punish you, little hunter, rutting into you so savagely, you’ll feel my cock for weeks.”

  Zeta shivered, his voice thrillingly dominant. “I won’t stop.” She panted, taking him as she wanted him to take her, without hesitation, without mercy, her muscles burning and her thighs trembling. “I can’t stop.”

  He thrust into each descent, their bodies colliding, the heat, the pain overwhelming, too much, too right. “I—” She clutched his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin, unable to finish her sentence, to think, to breathe.

  “Come for me, gerel.” Khan’s gaze met hers, his face stark with passion. “Come now.” He surged forward and nipped her chin, the sharp pain severing the last of her control.

  “Khan,” Zeta screamed. Brilliant lights exploded in front of her eyes, liquid heat sizzled through her. She flung herself backward, secured to him only by his cock, the base of his shaft expanding.

  “No.” Khan pushed his hips upward, driving deeper into her, his body rigid and unrelenting. “Mercy!” He spurted violent streams of hot cum into her pussy, the violence of his orgasm extending her pleasure.

  “Yes.” Zeta folded her body over his chest and clung to him, tremors shaking her form. “No mercy.” She closed her eyes. “I can show no mercy.” Am I capable of that? Can I trade him, this male I need so much?

  * * * * *

  It’s been three days. Khan stared up at the ceiling, the chambers dark, his gerel naked and still beside him, sleeping solidly, spent after four rounds of rutting. And she hasn’t contacted Tolui.

  He glanced at her beautiful, stubborn, too-trusting-for-her-own-good face. Her lips glistened, her mouth partially open, her big brown eyes closed. Has Berke’s message been sent?

  Khan slipped out from underneath her. Zeta shifted restlessly, mumbling his name, and he froze. She quieted, her breathing leveling once more.

  He padded into the bathing chamber, his bare feet moving soundlessly over the tiled floor. The privacy doors slid closed behind him, flattening his flimsy energy chain. Khan pushed on the panel above the hand cleansing station and extracted the tablet Murad had left for him.

  He accessed the ship’s communications systems, the firewalls breached by his technologically gifted brother. Son of a Gechii. Khan read the transmissions. The message has been sent, received, and responded to. He listened to Zeta’s breathing, his fierce female blissfully unaware that Tolui, her anonymous client, traveled to meet with them.

  She’ll cut off my balls. Khan extended his claws, sliced a hair-thin crack in his restraints, and slid his foot through the widened opening, the restraints resealing. He left the energy chains on the white tiles and exited the chambers, closing both sets of doors behind him.

  He blended into the background, becoming invisible, and he crept along the pitch-black corridors, the entire space smelling of Zeta, her musk hardening his cock. The ship was sparsely decorated, devoid of all personal touch, and frighteningly low on supplies, the rations in the eating chamber he passed barely enough for her voyage home.

  What are you doing with your credits, gerel? Khan entered the bridge, Chamele 4, the harsh red hunting planet, filling the viewscreen. He settled into the first officer’s chair and tapped on the controls.

  Berke’s stern face filled the private viewscreen. “Why are you contacting me, brother?” his brother asked quietly, his voice below human levels of hearing. “You’re jeopardizing the plan.”

  “I’m jeopardizing your plan,” Khan corrected, stealth not his preference. “My plan was to hunt Tolui down and blow him into hyperspace.”

  “You agreed to our plan,” Berke reminded him.

  “To your plan.” Khan met his brother’s gaze, not backing down. “Which I will soon share with my gerel.”

  “That’s unadvisable.” Berke’s lips flattened. “Human females are incapable of loyalty. Your bounty hunter will sell you out for a few credits.”

  She might, when she finds out what I’ve done. “I have no choice. Zeta hasn’t contacted Tolui.” Khan clung to that reassuring fact. “When he arrives, she’ll be.” Hostile, angry, downright dangerous. “Suspicious. She’ll require an expla
nation.”

  “She’ll contact him.”

  Khan bit back his aggravation, Berke stubborn beyond all endurance. “If she doesn’t contact him, I’ll tell her. The risk is too great.”

  “There’s no risk.” His brother waved his hands dismissively. “Our fleet surrounds you even now, cloaked and ready for war. We won’t attack until she exchanges you and her ship is positioned out of striking distance. She’ll be in no danger.”

  If she exchanges me. “I won’t lie to her.”

  “You asked for the honor of killing Tolui,” Berke firmly stated. “You knew what that entailed. The people of Chamele are counting on you.”

  Khan sighed heavily, his duty to his people coming before his personal happiness. “I won’t fail them. Transmission ended.” He pressed his thumb to the viewscreen and his brother’s image faded.

  He sat in the dark and stared at red swirling surface of Chamele 4, a planet he’d now forever associate with his tough, sexy female, their day spent in the cave one of the happiest of his violence-filled life.

  Zeta has to collect the bounty on me. Khan pushed himself to his feet, embracing that ideal solution, a betrayal for a betrayal. I must make that easier for her.

  He strolled down the corridors, his footsteps lighter. I can take the guilt away from her betrayal.

  He placed his hand on the sleeping chamber controls, Murad giving him complete access to the ship. The doors slid silently open and light fell on Zeta’s naked form. She slept with her hands stretched out as though reaching for him, a frown curling her lips, and Khan’s heart twisted.

  I’ll give her reasons to hate me. He moved to the bathing chamber, refastened his restraints, and returned to her side, standing over the bed.

  Zeta turned to face him, her long brown hair spread on the covers, her breasts full, tipped with pink nipples. Blood coursed through Khan’s veins, rushing to his cock. Her eyelashes fluttered, dark against her pale cheeks, and she whimpered, the small, pain-filled sound decimating his resolve.