Her arms circled around his neck as she plastered her back against him. She stole his breath, so lovely and full of sensual grace. Rocking her hips back, standing on the tips of her toes, urging him lower. His finger hovered over the entrance to her body, a moment to build the anticipation for both of them.
Her eyelids fluttered as she arched against him. “How . . . so?”
He nibbled on her earlobe and reveled in her gasp as he slid two fingers inside her wet sheath. “Now, touching a woman, like this, well, there’s no worry about sharing anything but a memory. So I slow it down, to one heartbeat at a time. I notice every detail. Like how the deep pink color of your tight little nipples matches that pretty cunt I’m stroking. The way your breath hitches every time I circle your clit. The salty-sweet taste of your skin where I kiss your neck.” He paused, long enough to illustrate. “I’m studying you, Gia, savoring you for later.”
Her inner muscles clenched his fingers tight as she panted. “What . . . comes . . . later?”
Though it was a struggle he withdrew, unwinding her arms from around his neck. Placing her palms on a flat rock, he urged her to bend forward. She made a sound of protest, though she did as he commanded. Mercy, seeing her spread before him like that, pink lips drenched with her desire and parted as though beckoning him. . . . His cock throbbed painfully, eager to explore her from the inside out.
“I do. Alone back on the ship, I remember it all. Your taste, your scent, the slippery feel of your cunt. I lie on my back in the dark, stroking myself, and live it all again. And I imagine what it would have felt like to drive my hard cock into this sweet little pussy. But there’s some freedom in having already fucked up with you. Because I don’t have to imagine now.”
Aligning his aching shaft with her feminine opening, he surged forward. They cried out in unison, and he lost a little bit of himself in the clasp of her lithe body. Her head was bent forward, her slim back trembling as he pulled out and then arching when he thrust back in. She was wet, slippery from more than just the water, and miraculously tight. Her body hugged him, clutched him in a silken embrace, one he’d almost forgotten the pleasure of having.
Gripping her hair he pulled her head back. “Do you like this?” he rasped in her ear as he fucked her harder. “Is this enough body heat for you, or should I give you more?”
“More,” she panted, widening her stance and inviting him to take her hard.
No way could he refuse such a sweet offer. Gripping her hips he drove forward, forgetting all of his promises to savor this and to make it last for both of them. He planned to spend every moment from now until the end fucking her like this. Or maybe on his back, with his cock standing straight up as she slowly impaled herself on his length, riding him to climax.
He’d come, drag her to the blankets, lay her out like the luscious feast she was, and then dine on her puffy pink sex until she was begging him to fill her once again.
If there was a better last meal, he sure couldn’t think of one.
“Zan,” Gia gasped as his thick rod plunged into her at a frantic pace.
His fingers bit into her hip bones, holding her still so he could ram inside her again and again. She’d never liked being so confined during sex, so powerless, but he was doing everything right, hitting all of the sensitive spots inside her, pushing her closer to the edge.
“You feel incredible,” he breathed in that guttural accent she’d once despised but now made her flood with cream as she recalled his whispered words. I lie on my back in the dark, stroking myself, and live it all again.
For the first time she’d felt a surge of empathy for his plight. Not that she was ready to forgive him for absconding with her, but what must it have been like for him, such a sexual being, to have to restrain himself? To hold back when he was clearly designed to surge forward, to explore everything, and then to do it again and again?
God, she loved the way he pounded between her thighs, the fat rod shoving inside her, invading her and taking her away from all the things she didn’t want to think about. Gia had always loved sex, the joining of her body with another’s, the scent of arousal heavy in the air, the moment-to-moment loss of self that ended in the divine pinnacle of pleasure. There was nothing she hadn’t tried; no taboo would stop her from living to the best of her abilities.
But sex with Zan took it further than she’d ever been before. He fit her so well, the way his shaft stretched her to that perfect point just before pleasure crossed the line into pain. The way her breasts fit precisely into his large hands. And the way he knew how to touch her, when to make her wait, how to make her crave more. It was like she’d been living in the dark on bread and water and now was brought out to a feast under the noonday sun. An overload of color and sensation, and she didn’t know where to look, what to try next.
Fortunately, he did. One hand snaked down her torso and into her thatch of pubic hair, cupping her mound. The other followed the crease of her ass, his thumb finding her puckered hole, pressing inward, stretching the tight ring of muscles until they ceded and he invaded her back passage. His message was clear—he owned her pleasure, could do anything he wanted, and make her beg for release.
Black dots floated before her eyes as orgasm stormed through her, a violent siege she was totally unprepared for. Her body clamped down hard on his, desperately gripping him where he invaded her, determined to drag him down with her. Zan shouted his release, and she felt it, the hot surge deep in her like another thrust. The moment stretched on and on, both of them locked together, riding the tempest for all they were worth.
Her knees collapsed; her entire body felt utterly boneless, and she would have gone under if his strong arms hadn’t caught her back against his sweat-slicked chest. His cock was still semihard inside of her, connecting them even in the aftermath of the sensual storm. Gia’d never had a man linger within her after achieving orgasm. It was almost more intimate with the sensual fog lifting and her fully aware. The overwhelming urge to nuzzle into his body scared her to death.
Neither of them spoke. She didn’t know what to say. Nothing seemed appropriate, no polite conversation. Maybe “fuck me again”?
But the risks. . . . She sucked in a breath as consequences bore down on her. Pregnancy. Without her health guard it was a very real option. God, Zan might be a stellar lay, but no way did she want to have a baby with him!
The shock of that very stark reality spurred her into action. He didn’t resist as she pulled away. She couldn’t look at him as she cleaned herself up the best she could without soap. Splashing from behind her indicated he was doing the same thing.
A deep, yawning pit opened inside her. Missing him, the sexy rumble of his voice, the heat of his skin against hers. Wasn’t this what she’d wanted? Fucking with no talking, no intimacy. Why did it feel so wrong?
She trudged out of the water and retrieved her thermal blanket before moving it away from his. After she redressed she lay down on her side, facing away from him.
Say something, her mind screamed at him.
Zan emerged from the pool; she knew because the splashing stopped. “I’m going to keep an eye out front.”
She listened as his footsteps retreated, disappointment and relief clashing in her head.
Really, what was left for them say?
6
Hell had him by the short and curlies. Zan’s heart pounded, lost in darkness so black he couldn’t tell if his eyes were open or shut. Xander’s laugh like a snake slithering through dead leaves, coming closer, ever closer. He had to get away, to get Gia away before they were found. Their pursuer wouldn’t care that she was a woman, would use that to hurt him. Just like he’d used Isabella. . . .
He saw her, as she’d been the last time. Curled in a corner, her white dress stained with her blood, her lip split, throat raw from screaming, her dark eyes brimming with tears as the next man stalked her. Zan shook the bars of the golden cage, bellowing his fury as Xander laughed behind him.
“My personal guards hav
e all had their fun. This one I pulled in from the stocks. . . . I think your whore will enjoy his ride.”
She didn’t fight, she didn’t possess a violent streak, even in her own defense. The rapist didn’t care, just gripped her ankles to spread her legs wide. She’d screamed Zan’s name once before her head hit the marble floor with a sickening crack and then nothing more.
Xander laughed as the man flung up her skirts, shoved inside of her while the pool of blood on the floor spread on and on . . .
A tortured scream woke him from his nightmare. A woman’s desperate cry. Lunging to his feet he cursed himself for leaving her alone, as he half ran, half skidded through the tunnel to the hot spring where he’d left her sleeping. Glancing down, he checked the battery on his laser pistol. It’d been full when he’d left the ship, and he hadn’t used it, but the weapon wasn’t designed for the extreme cold. A misfire could kill him, but if Gia had been caught, he’d take the risk. Better to blow them both to the inferno than wait for Xander’s torture.
The tunnel opened up into the cavern with the hot springs, the light from the bioluminescent critters in the pool so bright he had to give his eyes a moment to adjust. Gia cried out again and he saw her, swaddled in the thermal blanket on the flat rock, where he’d left her. No sign of a threat. What was she screaming about?
It hit him like a sucker punch to the gut. His memories—Gia was battling the same demons that had held him in thrall. He thought it would have been easier if she’d been under attack from the outside, because the darkness he carried in the pit of his soul wasn’t something everyone could handle.
Sometimes he wondered why he hadn’t been crushed by the unbearable weight of it all.
Stowing his sidearm, he moved next to where she slept. Perspiration dotted her skin, her forehead wrinkled, her expression pained. “No, don’t! Please!”
“Gia.” He reached for her shoulder, giving her a shake. “Gia, wake up. You’re having a nightmare.”
The words were moronically trite but effective. Gia sat straight up, eyes wide, hands shaking, just as his had been in the dream. She looked like a frightened child. Zan shifted closer, wrapping an arm around her. “It’s all right, just a bad dream. Can’t hurt you none.”
“It felt so real,” she whispered, sounding lost.
“Just a dream,” he repeated. Ill at ease as something heavy seethed in his gut. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was guilt. Couldn’t be though. Technology had fucked them over when her health guard failed. He hadn’t forced this burden on her.
Yet an insidious inner voice whispered that if he hadn’t sought her out in the first place, she would still be on the empath home world, enjoying the sunset, instead of huddled in an ice cave, waiting to die with him.
“Isabella,” Gia mumbled, and he flinched. Large green eyes peered up at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. “Who is Isabella?”
“Damned if I know.” Zan lied easily, even though he felt as if someone had jettisoned all his innards into the abyss at the sound of her name. No way was he going to rip open that old wound, even if she had a right to know. To distract them both he took his arm away and started rooting around in her bag. “I’m hungry. You got any more of that purple goop?”
Gia blinked a few times, as though coming fully awake. “Nutri gel, and yes, it’s in the front pouch.” Wrapping the blanket tighter around herself she reached for the bag.
He handed it over without a fuss and exhaled. Fuck, this was too complicated, keeping the truth from her. On some level she must sense that he wasn’t being entirely honest with her; she was incredibly perceptive and deeply suspicious of him. As she should be.
Who the hell was he to keep unpleasant realities from her? They weren’t friends or lovers. Sure they’d collided a few times, but that was just hormones, a fact she’d made clear when she’d turned her back on him last night. She didn’t need his comfort or pretty little lies. No, Gia was using him to scratch an itch, the same way he’d used her. Protecting her wasn’t his job, and from what he’d seen the woman could take care of herself.
“Isabella was my wife.” The words came out before he was fully aware of the decision to speak them.
Her head whipped around. “So that was your dream?”
“My memory,” he corrected. “Xander had her raped and tortured to death, made me watch the whole thing. We’re in his system, on his planet. That’s why I checked out on you yesterday.”
She started at him a moment, her expression unreadable. He silently begged any deity that might be eavesdropping to keep her from offering him sympathy. He didn’t think he could take it without losing the tiny shred of control he still held.
A minute ticked by, their gazes locked. He saw the instant she came to a decision because Gia nodded crisply, then handed over one of the nutri supplements she had clutched in her fists. “So Hosta is his space?”
Zan took the vial but didn’t drink it. She didn’t need to know the extent of his relationship to Xander, and for some reason he didn’t want to tell her. “Yeah. He’s one of the big baddies I was warning you about, who would kill you because you have my memories.”
She sat down facing him, rolling her own unopened vial between her palms. Her thermal blanket gaped and he saw her bare legs, pale as the moonlight on fresh snow. Despite the discussion his cock stirred with renewed interest. He downed his own vial and glanced away, sure of the guilt this time. Here he sat talking about his wife who’d been tortured to death and still his body wanted Gia’s. The way they fit together was nothing short of miraculous, and coming inside her gave him precious moments of reprieve when he didn’t have to plot or scheme. Free from worry for the first time in a century.
No wonder he craved Gia. It wasn’t really her he wanted, only the relief she offered, the first he’d known since the death of his wife. He closed his eyes, apologizing to Isabella for his weakness. He’d loved her, had suffered without her, and was looking down the barrel of only more misery to come.
“What do we do now?” Gia’s soft question broke him from his inner turmoil.
Zan appreciated the fact that she didn’t dwell on his lies or probe at his wounds but focused on saving their hides. “I’m open to suggestions.”
“We need transportation. On the ground we’re seriously outnumbered, but in space we’d stand a fighting chance.”
“Do you think there’s any hope in retrieving the stinger?”
Gia popped open her own vial, knocked it back, and dipped her foot in the water. She stared out over the distance at some point unseen. The swirl of her toes was incredibly erotic. He wanted to suck them dry and work his way up.
She shook her head, her expression tinged with sadness. “I don’t see how.”
The small starship had been her home. “I’m sorry you lost it.”
She nodded, accepting his words. The corner of her mouth kicked up. “But not sorry you kidnapped me?”
Slowly, he shook his head. “Seems as though I’m addicted to you, and I reckon you are getting mighty used to me too. How I make you feel. What do you say, Gia? Ready for your next fix?”
Gia stared into Zan’s golden eyes, totally mesmerized. How could he change gears so fast? She’d felt how much he’d loved Isabella, had experienced his fear for her and the blinding rage at her death firsthand. No matter how nuclear hot the sex was between them, how could he possibly want her when he’d just relived loss like that?
And part of her, a small, petty part that she didn’t want to fully acknowledge, didn’t like playing at his consolation prize. First Gen and now the memory of a beloved wife competing for his attention. Gia didn’t play games she stood no chance of winning, and the thought of Zan picturing her as someone else while he fucked her shredded something tender inside her. Though he might be an awesome lay, so were plenty of other men in the galaxy. In order to find them, she needed a ship to get off this planet, out of this system.
Decided, she reached for her uniform and started yan
king it on beneath the thermal blanket. No need to tease him with goods no longer in his price bracket. “We should head out.”
Zan gripped the blanket and tugged it off before she had her arms in the sleeves of her flight suit. “I don’t believe you comprehend the full ramifications of our situation. We ain’t got no place to head to.”
Dear God, if Xander didn’t get him the grammar police would. She didn’t even fight him for the blanket, just zipped herself up and sat down to pull on her socks. “If we stay here we’ll eventually run out of food. I’d rather take my chances trying to steal a ship than waiting for either Xander to locate us or our food to run out while we starve to death.”
“There ain’t no ships to steal, at least not in walking distance.” Zan stared at her as though she said she wanted to run naked through the wilderness.
“How long since you’ve been here?” she asked, lacing up her boots. Thankfully they had mostly dried out from yesterday’s trek.
“About five decades,” he admitted.
“That’s a long time. Things might have changed since the last time you were here. You don’t have to come with me.”
“Don’t be stupid.” Zan glared at her.
“Don’t call me stupid. Unlike you, I haven’t given up yet.”
His eyes narrowed. “You calling me a quitter?”
“I’m sure you’ve been called worse. Now give me my blanket back, because I’m pulling up stakes. Lead, follow, or get the hell out of my way. Do not obstruct.”
“You don’t understand what Xander will do to us. Alien women are sold at auction to the highest bidder. That’s if he doesn’t kill you on sight.”
“Why are you so sure he will catch us? How could he even know you are here? Does he have some kind of tracking ability? Some psychic connection to you? If so, do me a favor and lead him off in another direction.”
“Why you got to be so damn uppity? We’re safe here for the time being. Once we take down that parachute and head out into the wild, the game turns deadly.”
No Mercy Page 5