Brant: Science Fiction Romance (Enigma Series Book 11)

by Ditter Kellen

  Syrina’s hands flew to Brant’s hair, her eyes large and unseeing. Her legs tightened around him as he sucked her into a frenzy.

  Her vaginal walls clenched, pulsed, and craved, seeking more—something—anything…

  “Come for me,” Brant growled through their connection with an urgency that seemed to match her own.

  Syrina flew apart, her entire body locking up as she rode out the storm in helpless, unimaginable bliss…

  Chapter Eighteen

  Brant had never been more turned on than he was in that moment.

  The feel of Syrina coming apart beneath his mouth was the sexiest thing he’d ever witnessed.

  She shuddered, cried out, and cut off his air with her powerful thighs around his head. He didn’t care. Nothing mattered to him in that moment but bringing her to ecstasy again and again.

  He released her swollen bundle of nerves and softly swept his tongue along its sides. The key to multiple orgasms was to manipulate the nerve endings, to back off when they became overly sensitive and apply the right amount of pressure… in the right spot… at the right time.

  Brant swept his tongue downward, dragged it up the center of her opening, and then swirled it around her hardened flesh once more.

  Her thighs trembled against his face.

  “Relax your muscles for me,” he sent to her mind. “Open your thighs and rest your hands, palms up, next to your head. The vulnerable position of it will enhance the power of your next orgasm.”

  She immediately obeyed. “What is happening to me, Brant? I have never known such a feeling. I—”

  “Shhhhhhh…” He reached up with his left hand, opening her, exposing her to his gaze. “Just relax…”

  He then brought his right hand up, placed his pointer and middle finger on either side of her wet, swollen flesh, and slid slowly up and down.

  Syrina shuddered, her body moving with his fingers.

  “Don’t move, Syrina…just feel.”

  Brant slowly increased the pressure of his fingers, gently tightening them along the sides of her clit as he continued to slide them up and down, carefully massaging, manipulating her nerve endings.

  Now completely in tune with her body, Brant listened to her moans, felt the subtle changes in her breathing.

  She began to climb once again, searching, seeking what only Brant could give her. And give her, he did.

  He dipped his head and swirled his tongue around the flesh between his ever-moving fingers.

  Syrina began to shake, her breathing spiking to the point of a continuous gasp. “It’s coming again, Brant!”

  “I know,” he mentally sent back, on the verge of an orgasm himself. “I’m right here with you. Don’t tense up. Feel what I’m doing to you. Lose yourself in it… Lose yourself in me…”

  Brant wasn’t sure where that last part came from, but in that moment, he didn’t care. All he wanted was to take Syrina to the edge of the abyss again and again, licking her to completion.

  The taste of her release on his tongue once more pushed Brant past the point of insanity. He pulled his fingers back, gripped her muscular thighs, and dipped his tongue inside her opening.

  He wanted—no, he needed—to be inside her. His shaft throbbed to the beat of his heart, a painful pulsing that begged for release.

  But he’d promised her he wouldn’t enter her body. Why the hell would he agree to such a thing?

  Then the reality of the situation began to settle in. He couldn’t enter her body. He would be mated to her…and she’d already made her feelings clear on that.

  “Brant?” she whispered aloud, uncertainty in her voice. “I…”

  With one last swipe of his tongue, Brant pulled back enough to see into her eyes. What he saw there took his breath. An emotion he’d never witnessed in her before swam in her amber-colored gaze. “Syrina?”

  “May I enter?” Pyre called out from the doorway.

  “One moment!” Syrina jumped up with a quickness that nearly knocked Brant to his back.

  He got to his feet, watching as she pulled on her clothes with trembling hands.

  She met his gaze, speaking to him through their shared connection. “Get inside that alcove.”

  Brant glanced in the direction she nodded, taking in the small alcove that acted as a human closet.

  Anger surfaced before he could stop it. “You want me to hide?”

  “Please,” she sent back, her voice soft yet laced with urgency.

  Brant stared back at her for a second longer, everything in him demanding he go to that curtain and face Pyre without regret. But Syrina had regrets. He could see it in her eyes.

  “As you wish.” With his pride in shambles, Brant strode to the closet and stepped inside.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Syrina’s stomach tightened at the feelings she felt coming from Brant. She hated asking him to hide, but she had little choice. Pyre would never understand what she’d allowed a land walker to do to her. But Brant wasn’t just any land walker… He had risked his life to save hers.

  She yanked on her boots and rushed from the room before she changed her mind and pulled Brant from that alcove.

  Pulling the curtain back, she blanked her emotions and faced Pyre. “What is it?”

  “You will not invite me inside?”

  “Of course.” Syrina’s face heated up. She took a step back and waved him in.

  Pyre stepped over the threshold and moved to take a seat at her small kitchen table.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but then paused, his nostrils flaring slightly.

  Syrina nervously cleared her throat. “Has something happened?”

  Though suspicion remained in his eyes, Pyre answered, “Zyen and his mate have returned from the surface.”

  “What happens now?” She joined Pyre at the table.

  “We leave at daylight to extract the land walker. Zyen has forbidden his mate to go along. It will be him, Oz, Henagar, and me.”

  Syrina’s heart stuttered. “I really do not think it wise to take Brant on this trip. He is not completely healed. I feel that he will be more of a burden than a help.”

  Brant’s anger filled her head, along with a few choice words she’d heard him spew before. Ass being one of them.

  She blocked him out and held Pyre’s gaze. “Perhaps you should take Gryke instead.”

  Pyre shook his head. “Gryke’s mate has fallen ill. I doubt that he could be convinced to go.”

  Syrina paled. “Fiona is sick?”

  “From what I could gather. She seems to have difficulty holding down her food.” Pyre pushed to his feet.

  “Where are you going?” Syrina stood as well.

  “To locate Henagar. He will need to ready himself for the trip in the morning.”

  The minute he left, Syrina pulled the curtain closed behind him and turned, nearly running into Brant.

  He moved to step around her without meeting her gaze.

  “Brant, wait,” Syrina whispered, grabbing on to his wrist.

  “I have nothing to say.” He pulled free of her hold. “Hiding me in the closet pretty much said it all, don’t you think?” He jerked back the curtain and strode off down the hall.

  Syrina watched him go with a mixture of regret and fear. He had just pleasured her in the most beautiful way she could have ever imagined possible. And she’d repaid him by forcing him to shred his pride for her, hiding him away like some dirty, shameful secret she didn’t want known.

  But he was a secret, she silently admitted. He had to be. If her father found out she’d shared her blood and part of her body with a land walker, he wouldn’t stop until he destroyed Brant. And she couldn’t let that happen. Not to Brant…

  * * * *

  Syrina awoke before daylight, anxious and mentally exhausted.

  She’d spent the majority of the night reaching out to Brant, only to find herself closed off from him.

  The man had to have incredible strength to withstand a mental invasi
on from a Bracadyte. But of course, Syrina had never doubted Brant’s strength. Not after everything he endured at the hands of the Cuban government. And he’d done it for her.

  She thought about the beating he’d taken, the way he had killed Mateo for her, even with his hands bound behind his back. The way he’d demanded she leave him in those woods, even though he had to know he would never make it out alive.

  And after all that, he’d touched her, pleasured her with such tenderness and passion, taken her to the edge of insanity, only to coax her back and start all over again.

  Syrina pushed the covers back and got to her feet. No matter what Kaspyn said, or anyone else for that matter, she was not about to let Brant go on that mission without her. Even if she had to swim inconspicuously beneath that boat, she would have his back just as he’d had hers.

  Pulling her long, white hair over her shoulder, she quickly braided it and tied it off at the end. Next, she dressed in her sharkskin attire with matching boots that rested just below the knee, and then brushed her teeth.

  No sounds could be heard in the hall as she stood at the curtain for several heartbeats, listening.

  She pulled back the dark gray material, slipped quietly into the hall, and hurried toward the Pool of Life, otherwise known as the entrance to Aukrabah.

  Chapter Twenty

  Brant dismounted the four-wheeler and nodded toward a black SUV waiting at the land entrance to Aukrabah. “Is that for us?”

  Oz climbed from his four-wheeler as well, taking his bag with him. “It is. Thanks to Thrasher.”

  Zyen and Pyre pulled up alongside them and dismounted their rides.

  Pyre grabbed his bag of weapons and tossed it over his shoulder. “Does the human president know of this extraction?”

  Oz answered as Zyen and Brant retrieved their duffle bags. “He knows, but he won’t be assisting us this time. Trescina is a Cuban resident. Pratt is unwilling to risk American lives to extract her for personal reasons. And I can’t blame him. The only reason I am going on this mission is because she saved the lives of Brant and Syrina. And because she could possibly be the sister of Zyen’s mate.”

  “Your willingness to help is much appreciated,” Zyen admitted, striding past the military personnel milling about to load his things into the truck.

  The rest of the crew followed suit with Brant bringing up the rear. He climbed into the passenger seat of the SUV, closed his door, and engaged his seatbelt. “Let’s do this.”

  Oz put the truck in gear and drove east, toward the dock where his yacht was being stored.

  * * * *

  Brant stared out over the beautiful waters of the Gulf of Mexico, wondering what other life forms might live beneath. He still found it hard to wrap his mind around the fact that Syrina had lived below her entire life. All the Bracadytes had.

  Syrina, he thought, his gut tightening with the memory of what had taken place the night before. Damn, but she’d shown such passion, writhing beneath his tongue. Brant couldn’t imagine anything feeling or tasting better than Syrina. He’d wanted her so bad it had become painful for him. Hell, he wanted her still.

  Guilt suddenly took hold. In the short amount of time he’d spent in Syrina’s company, Brant had thought of little else. Not even Melinda, the only woman he’d ever loved…ever would love.

  He shook off his thoughts and glanced at Oz’s tight jaw as he gazed out over the water. “You’re worried about Pyre and Zyen.” It wasn’t a question.

  Oz ran a hand down his face. “Not as worried as I am for us. We’re sitting ducks if we stay here much longer.”

  Brant thought about that for a moment. “I take it we’re in Cuban waters.”

  “Have been for a while now. I wanted to get as close as I could to give them a better chance at reaching us with the girl. That’s a long swim with a human in tow. And breathing for her, nonetheless.”

  “I doubt we have to worry about the Cuban military,” Brant pointed out. “President Mendoza won’t be expecting us to return so soon. He wouldn’t know to order an attack.”

  Oz continued to stare out over the water. “It’s not the military that concerns me. It’s the Cuban rebels that patrol these waters since word of the Bracadytes’ existence. From what I’ve heard, the bounties on the heads of the Bracadytes are upwards into the millions.”

  That caught Brant off guard. “Who’s offering that kind of cash?”

  Oz shrugged. “Wealthy assholes who have more money than common sense. And it seems that the females are worth more than the males to these morons.”

  Brant’s mind instantly flew to Syrina. His stomach tightened into a knot of dread that made him physically ill. He didn’t have to ask to know why the females would bring a higher price. He was more than thankful that Kaspyn had ordered Syrina to stay behind.

  Oz handed him a pair of binoculars he’d been holding onto. “I’m going to shower and grab a bite to eat. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

  Brant nodded, brought the binoculars to his eyes, and scanned the horizon.

  He couldn’t seem to get Syrina off his mind. If she somehow found herself in the clutches of one of the wealthy assholes Oz mentioned, she would be tortured beyond anything Mendoza would have done to her.

  A strange sensation filtered through him, starting at the back of his neck and sliding down his spine.

  He lowered the binoculars and closed his eyes, seeking the source of the feeling.

  “I had to come.” Syrina’s soft voice floated up to his ears, forcing his eyes to open in shock.

  There, amidst the rolling waters of the Gulf, was the face of the female Bracadyte who plagued his every thought.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Brant growled, his eyes narrowed in fury. “You were told to wait at Aukrabah until we returned!”

  She glanced away and swam toward the back of the yacht without bothering to respond.

  Setting the binoculars on a small ledge in front of him, Brant strode toward the stern, his teeth locked together in anger. Did the insufferable Arkadian have any idea of the danger she placed herself in by being here?

  She was already climbing up the ladder by the time Brant reached her.

  Damn, but she was beautiful, Brant thought, coming to a stop directly in front of her.

  Her long, white hair hung over her shoulder in a wet braid that dripped water over her sharkskin-covered breast.

  Brant swallowed hard and forced his gaze to her face, which didn’t help matters any. She had the most incredible colored eyes that seemed to glow a bright gold behind her ink-black lashes.

  “Do you have any idea the danger you’re in just by being here? Not only do we have to worry about the Cuban military, but rebels as well. Not to mention the rich son of a bitches who’ve placed a high price on your head.”

  Syrina wiped some of the water from her face. “I do not understand this son of a bitches term, but you need not concern yourself with my welfare. I am safer out here in the water than you are.”

  Brant attempted to rein in his anger but failed miserably. “Why are you here?”

  “I came as backup in case you needed my help.”

  The odd sensation trickled down his back once more. He was beginning to understand its origin. It seemed to occur every time Syrina attempted dishonesty. “Why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?”

  Something flickered in her eyes. “I told you—”

  “The truth, Syrina. I want the truth.”

  She blew out a breath and stared at a place over his shoulder. “Fine. I…did not want any harm to come to you.”

  Brant’s heart turned over. He couldn’t look away from her intoxicating eyes.

  “Why?” he whispered, suddenly finding it hard to breathe. “Why do you care about what happens to me?”

  She shrugged, but kept her gaze locked on that same place above his shoulder. “You are Fiona’s brother. It would hurt her greatly if you were to become injured.”

  Brant took
a hesitant step forward. “Is that the truth? Did your really swim all this way for Fiona’s sake?"

  The sound of an engine moving toward them saved Syrina from having to answer.

  “Get inside,” Brant demanded, turning back toward the bow of the boat. “And do not stick your head out for any reason. No matter what you hear.”

  He glanced back to be sure that she obeyed and then hurried along the side until he reached his previous position.

  A large boat that had seen better days approached them from the east.

  Brant snatched up the binoculars in an attempt to get a bead on how many souls were on board but saw only two.

  Oz came barreling up the steps from below. “What’s going on?”

  Brant handed him the binoculars. “I see a middle-aged couple in the wheelhouse, but no other movement.”

  Oz untucked his shirt in an obvious attempt to hide the weapon in the waistband of his pants. “I thought I heard voices.”

  “Syrina is here,” Brant bit out, not taking his gaze from the incoming boat.

  The corner of Oz’s mouth lifted. “Be angry all you want, but it’s what they do.”

  “What they do?”

  “Mates,” Oz muttered, handing Brant the binoculars. “I’ll be right back.”

  Brant shook his head and brought the binoculars back to his eyes. How many times did he have to repeat himself before everyone got it through their heads? Syrina was not his mate.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Syrina dried herself off in the bathroom of Oz’s yacht. She’d expected Brant to be angered by her unexpected presence. What she hadn’t counted on was his blatant questioning of her reasons.

  What did he want her to say? That she’d swum into Cuban waters to protect him? She could never admit to such a thing. Especially after she’d come so close to giving herself completely to him the night before. And she very well might have if Pyre hadn’t shown up when he did.