Secrets Vol 2

by DeSalvo-Hamre-Knight-Paul

  Roarke looked into her eyes, his own hard, level. "I'm aware of that, Elise. I've met you in combat often enough to know you're not the type to make it easy." Moving to tower over her in his armor, he flexed a gauntleted hand. "Fortunately, that's not a problem. With the suit, I don't have to hurt you to subdue you."

  She glared up at him bitterly. "You're not going to leave me any

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  dignity at all, are you?"

  "Not if you refuse to give us both what we need, just to soothe your stiff pride."

  "Why not? You've got a stiffness of your own you seem obsessed with."

  He laughed. "Touché"." Reaching out, Roarke took her arm. "Now that you mention it, I think it's time we got started on that problem."

  Elise growled, but she knew better than to attempt hand-to-hand combat with a man in armor.

  Once again, Roarke held all the cards.

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  Chapter Three

  Lifting her chin, Elise allowed Roarke to guide her to the bridge doors and out into the corridor. Glancing at his face, she saw he was watching her, his gaze hungrily flicking from her eyes to her mouth to the thrust of her breasts and back again. She felt her nipples tingle and harden.

  Quickly redirecting her own gaze, Elise swore silently. How did he keep doing this to her? The man was her worst enemy, an arrogant rebel taking advantage of her status as his hostage. She was going to file a complaint with his Rebellion superiors. She was going to kick him in the balls the minute she saw an opening. She...

  That pointed tongue flicking out to swirl around her hot, wet nipple. His mouth descending, engulfing the stiff peak, sucking, biting, pulling, until pleasure roared through her, drowning duty and honor and even self-preservation in a bright red flood of delight and desire

  She shook her head hard, infuriated. The bastard had the ability to seduce her even inside the privacy of her own mind.

  It was embarrassing.

  Stiffening her spine, she marched around the corner and down the corridor toward the door of her quarters. Jerking against Roarke's light hold, she managed to break it as she snarled at the key plate, "Captain Elise Morrell. Admit me." The door opened. She stalked through without looking back.

  Taking a deep breath, Elise paused to regain control of her anger, aware of Roarke moving in behind her as the door slid closed again.

  His gauntleted hands caught her arms and quickly disengaged

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  the muscle lock on her neurocuffs. Elise jerked and started to whirl, but it was too late. Dragging her arms over her head, Roarke clasped her wrists together to reengage the 'cuffs, then scooped her up and dumped her on the wide captain's bunk.

  "What the hell?" Instinctively she tried to launch a punch at him, but her arms, locked in the neurocuffs, were pointed stiffly at the headboard.

  "I'm not going to fight you, Elise," Roarke told her. "I won't hurt you even to soothe your pride. But I am going to take you. And if that means putting you in shackles, I'll do it." He reached down with one of those huge gauntlets, grabbed a fistful of her jacket, and ripped. The tough cloth shredded like rice paper, and the entire coat came off in his hand.

  Elise stared at the ripped fabric in wordless shock. "Bastard!"

  "I've always hated this outfit," Roarke told her, wicked laughter in his voice, as he reached down to grab another handful of cloth.

  "That was my best dress uniform!" She aimed a kick at his head as he finished off her jacket.

  "But black and silver is such a pretentious combination." He caught her booted foot in one hand, grabbed her pants leg in the other, and jerked. It split open, baring the length of her leg right up to her crotch. She slammed another kick into his ribs and winced as her heel glanced off the armor. Calmly, he pulled off her boots. "Besides, I'm a rapist. Ripping the victim's clothes off is half the fun."

  Reaching into one of the pouches on his equipment belt, he pulled out a slightly bigger version of the neurocuffs and snapped one around her bare ankle. Elise tried for another kick but it was too late; he'd already activated it. Her entire leg went stiff and unresponsive.

  "Roarke, I'm warning you," she snarled, "if you do this to me, I'm going to slit your throat!"

  "Then I'll just have to keep you in bondage, won't I?" he taunted, as he stripped away the rags of her trousers and imprisoned the other leg in the second neuroshackle. Taking each ankle in hand, he positioned

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  her with her legs wide apart in the air. "Not that I need an excuse."

  Elise desperately wanted to change her shamefully open position, but she couldn't even twitch. She was immobilized — and completely naked except for a few scraps of black. "This is ridiculous."

  "Not at all. You look like my favorite wet dream." Roarke's grin was astonishingly boyish, considering he'd just ruthlessly ripped her clothes off and bound her for forced sex.

  "One of these days, Michael Roarke," she spat, "you're going to find out how you like it in shackles..."

  His humor vanished as if cut off with a switch. "I already know the answer to that one. And an intelligent woman would not bring back that particular set of memories when she was naked, shackled and spread wide."

  Seeing the sudden cruel black gtitter in his eyes, Elise winced. He had a point. 'Then I‘ll just have to settle for reporting you," she growled anyway, refusing to back down. "Your Starforce will bust your ass back to ensign."

  He ignored that, busy with getting himself out of his armor. This time though, he didn't stop with the skinsuit, shucking his broad body out of it with as much ruthlessness as he'd ripped away her own uniform. He actually looked bigger without it, as though the suit had camouflaged his size.

  Elise caught her breath at the width of his powerful chest, with its thick masculine pelt that flared from nipple to nipple in a broad cloud. Unconsciously her eyes tracked that pattern of soft hair, watching as it narrowed into a band to flow down over his hard, rippled belly. And down even further, pointing the way like a slim finger.

  With a sinuous roll of his hips, Roarke freed his sex. It sprang outward, surrounded by the soft ruff. Elise blinked. His organ was bigger than she'd expected, even after feeling it through his clothes. The long shaft with its prominent veins looked almost too thick for its head, which was easily the size of a plum. It was also stone hard. That same obvious arousal pulled his furry dark balls tight, taut and full.

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  Roarke stood framed between her raised, spread legs like a stallion about to mount a mare, erection jutting, his hungry jet eyes locked on her face. His nostrils flared; Elise wondered whether he could actually smell the heat she felt trickling into her sexual core.

  "Now lie to me," he rumbled, cutting the heavy, erotic silence. "Tell me again how you don't want me. Lie and call me a rapist. Or be honest with both of us and ask for my hands on you,"

  "You're an arrogant, egotistical bastard," Elise told him, her low voice too husky to be convincing. "And I'm not going to give you the satisfaction."

  He smiled slowly. "You will."

  Roarke reached out and caught her ankle as he slid a knee onto the bed. Slowly, watching her face the whole time, he leaned forward and parted his lips. His pointed tongue reached out, found a quivering tendon, and began to trace a wet, hot trail downward. Elise bit back a moan and closed her eyes, unable to withstand the combined raw eroticism of his hot stare and the feeling of him tasting her skin like a predator. She knew she should say something, make another pointless protest, yet the heavy mood of sensuality radiating from him was as good as a gag.

  Roarke watched her, an urgent pulse pounding through his cock. Tatters of Coalition uniform lay on her skin like leaves, starkly black against her pale skin. She looked deliciously sensual, her breasts swelling, nipples stiff and dark, her hair a soft pale cloud around her flushed face. Her legs, wide apart in the air, revealed the pink petals of her sex, parted as though ea
ger for his probing tongue and hungry prick. It was all he could do not to fall on her like the rapist she'd accused him of being.

  But that wouldn't be good enough, Roarke told himself, clinging to the last shreds of his self-control. If he took her like that, so quickly, so selfishly, she could dismiss the experience—even if he wrung from her the climaxes he intended. He wanted something more. He wanted to brand himself on her senses, force her to admit

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  she was as helpless in the face of this obsession as he was. He had to be something more to her than an enemy, more than a rapist. Why that was so important, he didn't know—and didn't particularly care. She was still going to submit to him, to his mouth and his hands and his cock. And he'd reward her with every jolt of pleasure he could wring out of her body.

  That would be enough. It would have to be.

  Roarke drew in a deep breath, drinking her scent as he grazed his lips down the long curving sweep of her calf. Her skin felt silken against his mouth. Discovering a sensitive spot behind her knee, he hesitated, biting gently at the muscle swelling there. Elise caught her breath. Roarke smiled and kept going, letting his hands explore the fine weave of tendon and muscle and bone in her strong thighs.

  A trace of musk and salt teased his nostrils, and he inhaled deeply, savoring the evidence of Elise's growing arousal. He moved closer, edging his head between her legs, looking at the petals of her sex, half concealed by her soft bush. Lifting a hand, he stirred through the fine blonde hair with one finger, tracing the line between her delicate lips, careful not to push inside. Not yet, not yet.

  "Pretty Elise," he murmured, drifting his finger along her mound, just brushing. "Do you know your danger, I wonder?"

  Elise made a faint sound, not quite a gasp.

  "Oh, maybe you think you do." Another brush of his fingertip, exploring the delicate textures of vulnerable female flesh and silken hair. "Maybe you're expecting me to fuck you like a pirate, brutally, not caring if I hurt you, out of revenge or selfishness or simple cruelty. But that's not the danger at all." He leaned closer, drinking the rich, sexual smell of her. "No, the danger is that now that I've finallly caught you, I may never let you go."

  She whimpered.

  Roarke smiled and dipped his head.

  ******************

  She ought to make a comeback to that, Elise thought, feeling the

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  muscles of her belly lace as she stared down at the crown of his dark head. She shouldn't let him think he was getting to her.

  But Roarke's warm breath was gusting gently over her sex, and anticipation had stripped away any interest Elise had ever had in repartee. If he was trying to drive her mad, he was doing a good job.

  Lick.

  A single pass of his tongue along the edge of her outer lips, nothing more than a tantalizing promise. Roarke nuzzled closer and breathed deeply, blowing across her damp flesh. Then that long, lush tongue touched her again, pushing delicately inside to start slipping in and out. leaving wet, burning trails behind, lighting up her nervous system with starbursts of pleasure. He edged closer. She could feel his warm, muscled shoulders pressing against her legs, the brush of his short cropped hair against her inner thighs in a silken caress.

  Instinctively Elise tried to bring her hands down to cover her sensitive, vulnerable sex, but her arms, locked in the neurocuffs, didn't even twitch. She could do nothing at all.

  And he could do everything.

  He'd found her clit.

  His tongue circled it with wet, hot flicks, then slowed for leisurely sampling swirl. His teeth closed in a gentle almost-bite, followed by another flick of that skillful tongue. His lips closed to suck briefly, then opened again for another swirling assault.

  She realized she was moaning and tried to stop.

  A gentle bite.

  Elise whimpered. Her hips began to flex. Pleasure curled in tight corkscrews in her belly.

  His hands reached up, brushing along her sides to find her breasts. Rough fingers caught her nipples to gently pinch and roll the hard, tingling tips.

  "Feeling raped yet, Elise?" Roarke rumbled, only his eyes visible as he looked up at her from between her legs. "Wondering what I've got in mind?"

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  "Bastard!" she gasped, unable to think of any other word.

  "Of course. Are you thinking about what it's going to feel like when I slide inside?" He lifted his head, extending a pointed tongue. Licking slowly, he watched her, then paused. Her thighs twitched. "I'm hard and hungry, Elise. And soon, very soon, I'm going to take it all."

  Suddenly, violently, Elise wanted him. Wanted everything he'd been threatening her with. She wanted to feel his massively powerful body pressing heavily onto hers, that long, thick erection digging into her hungry core. "Roarke..." she groaned, and swallowed.

  He was sucking carefully on her clit now, his tongue flicking. Elise felt a burning pulse begin as her thighs started to twitch. She rolled her head back into the pillow, feeling it come.

  Roarke stopped, though his strong fingers continued to pluck and play at her nipples.

  "No! Roarke, please," she gasped, pride forgotten.

  "Please what?" he rumbled. And licked.

  "Please," she whimpered. "I need..."

  He sucked, his mouth drawing at her needy flesh. She quivered. lifting his head, Roarke pressed his cheek against the inside of her thigh and looked at her. "What do you need?"

  “You...Ah!...I need...you."

  “You need me to do what?" He twisted one nipple with exquisite care.

  "I need you to ...take me. Ride me. God, Roarke, please!"

  "But I defeated you, Elise. I ran down your poor little ship with big, ugly dreadnought and beat the hell out of it. And then I took hostage and stripped you naked and bound you like a pleasure slave. Are you sure you want me?”

  "Yes!" It was a scream.

  "Then take me." In a single, violent gesture that shouted of snapped self-control, Roarke heaved his big body upward. Hunger his features sharp as he reared back on his knees and took his sex in hand. He moved between her legs, braced a muscled

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  arm beside her hip. Aimed himself. And thrust.

  Elise threw back her head and screamed at the sheer animal pleasure of it, at the shattering sensation of that huge organ ramming into her, giving her just what she so desperately needed.

  "Yes!" Roarke growled, coming fully down over her, staring into her face. "That's it, Elise. That's what I want from you. That's what I'm going to take."

  He began to thrust, his powerful hips working as he stroked between her wet, clamping walls. She writhed under him, feeling the soft hair of his chest brushing her nipples, his hard belly rolling against hers as he rocked.

  "God, Roarke," Elise moaned, "Eve never felt..." The pleasure was building with every strong thrust, searing her core, winding her tighter and tighter until it seemed she was going to explode. Desperately she hunched up against him, wishing she could wrap her legs around his hips and drag him even deeper.

  Roarke ground into her, circling his hips as he plunged until his sweat splattered her skin. His teeth clenched. His bunching shoulders blocked the light.

  Elise writhed, unable to bear the strength of the pleasure drilling into her core. "Roarke!" she screamed, and convulsed as her mind flew apart in a silent, glorious detonation.

  ******************

  For a long moment Roarke lay over Elise, loving the way her full breasts pressed into his chest. Opening one eye, he saw the sweetly curved columns of her legs pointing into the air. "Inconsiderate bastard," Roarke muttered at himself, remembering that she was still neurocuffed. Sighing, he reluctantly dragged himself off her tempting body and up onto his knees.

  Taking the 'cuffs from her ankles, Roarke eased her long legs to the bunk. The muscles were still quivering and jumping under her dewy skin, and he bent to massage them, savoring the silky
feel ot thighs under his hands. Even after the heated passion

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  of the past hour, he felt a slow, warm tide of arousal. He was tempted to start again, but he knew it would probably make her sore after all they'd already done, so he hastily backed away to take care of the neurocuffs on her wrists.

  Elise whimpered at the sudden freedom and stirred, a frown forming between her brows. Quickly, in case she should decide to get up, Roarke lay back down and lifted her sated body to drape it over his own.

  “Roarke," she murmured huskily, trying to pull back from him.

  He twined his arms around her drowsy nakedness and pulled her close. “Shhhh. It's been a long day. Sleep."

  Elise made a grumbling sound and subsided. He knew that ca-lation was a measure of both her satisfaction and her exhaustion, and grinned a little wolfishly.

  Poor baby. He'd worn her out.

  Her hair was tumbling over the back of his hand. Roarke reached and stroked his fingers through it. It felt slightly damp, tangled, as strands of starsilk. She lay over him completely and deliciously limp, a sweet, intensely female weight. Roarke took her and tilted her head up. Her lips pouted, parted and rosy. Unable resist, he bent his head and took them, brushing their moist, soft velvet with his mouth. He slipped his tongue inside to explore the slick surfaces of her teeth. She moaned, a muffled sound of pleasure and unconscious desire.

  Roarke's arms tightened, pulling her close even as he drew away those tempting lips. He wondered if she'd let him kiss her like that when she was awake. Afraid he knew the answer, he frowned. Her breathing was deepening into sleep; it puffed warmly across his left nipple. Roarke forgot the moment's uncertainty and sighed. He went to sleep more at peace than he'd been since the day he'd been captured.

  ******************

  Elise woke to the feel of Roarke's muscled chest pillowing her and his hot erection pressing into her belly. She blinked her

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  eyes, surprised at the heat that flooded her.