Secrets Vol 2

by DeSalvo-Hamre-Knight-Paul

  But did it matter? She was still a CSS captain, and he was still the enemy. They...

  Behind her the room hatch sighed open. "You've been a very bad girl, Elise," Roarke rumbled.

  She turned her head barely in time to see him coming for her, his handsome face like stone.

  Instinctively Elise tried to duck away, but in the armor he was far too fast for her. His big hands caught her by the collar and hauled her out of her chair. Before she could yelp a protest, Roarke stripped off her robe with one ruthless swipe. Elise swore, struggling, but a naked woman is no match for an armored man, and he was relentless. In seconds, he had her pinned to the bulkhead with the weight of his body while he banged a magnetic clamp against the wall over her head. Neurocuffing her wrists together, he caught them in the clamp's field.

  "Roarke, what the hell do you think you're doing?" Elise spat.

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  ing uselessly at the neurocuffs, though she knew she wouldn't able to break the clamp's magnetic grip; it was designed to hold sveral tons of equipment.

  "We're going to have a little...talk." Roarke crouched to grab ankles, fending off the kicks she directed at his head. He clicked neuroshackles around them and thumped a pair of clamps against wall, then caught the shackles in the clamps.

  "Do you chain all your bed partners, or is it just me?" Elise demanded between gritted teeth, subsiding in raw frustration.

  “Just you," he said, his tone dripping honey. "Nobody else betrays me to CSSIntel before the sheets are even cool."

  She stared at him, sick dread rolling over her.

  "And yes, I did monitor your chat with Henry." He straightened to his full height, looming over her like an armored wall.

  Elise straightened her own spine, trying to ignore the way the shackles spread her thighs. "If our positions were reversed, you'd have done the same thing."

  He braced a palm beside her head and leaned close. "In the first place, I wouldn't work for the bloody CSS. I'm picky about who I my killing for."

  Knowing a threat when she heard one, Elise stared up into his handsome face, so close to her own. "You won't kill me."

  A combination of irritation and reluctant amusement flickered over his face. "You're right, I won't. But that still leaves me a lot of rom to maneuver." Reaching onto one of the pouches on his belt, Roarke pulled out a thick black cylinder with rounded ends.

  Elise felt her face go cold as the blood drained from her head. “Price'll be thrilled," she muttered hoarsely.

  It was a neurowhip.

  Cleansing anger flooded into her, flushing away the moment's fear. "Give me credit for some intelligence, Roarke. You and I both know you'd be the last one to use that thing on a prisoner."

  "Now there—" He flicked one of the setting rings on the barrel

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  with his thumb, "—is where you're wrong."

  Before she could flinch, Roarke touched the neurowhip to her right nipple.

  Elise cried out as intense sensation rolled over her, so hot and fierce it took her a moment to realize what she was feeling was pleasure. Shocked, she stared up into her captor's hungry eyes.

  "Oh, yeeaaah." He gave her the smile the Wolf must have given Little Red Riding Hood, "Not only will I use this little toy on you, I'm going to enjoy it."

  Still wearing that sensual carnivore's smile, Roarke lazily teased her nipple with the neurowhip. She gasped as phantom teeth nibbled gently on the pink bud.

  "If you'll notice," he said in a mockingly pedantic tone as he ran the barrel gently over the curve of her breast, "the neurowhip has three setting rings, one for intensity, the other for the type of neuron being stimulated, a third for combination of stimuli you select. A readout tells you which settings you've chosen " His thumb flicked one of the rings, and she felt a delicate, arousing suction. "Though I didn't know about this particular group of settings until a certain female friend asked what I was doing with a sex toy in my quarters." His teeth flashed. "Evidently the neurowhip is a well-known piece of.. .equipment in some circles. Some enterprising CSSInteli agent must do a brisk smuggling business."

  Again, he stroked the tube over her nipples, and another cascade of pleasure rolled over her. Adjusting the whip as he went, he raised the intensity until she clenched her eyes shut and groaned helplessly. It felt as though countless tongues were licking and sucking at her breasts, warmth and wetness and pressure flickering across her skin like flame.

  "I've never used it this way. Hell, I've never used it at all." He watched her breasts tremble as she gasped. "This seems like a perfect time to experiment."

  "Why?" she croaked, twisting in her bonds. Lush delight trailed

  ROARKE'S PRISONER 225

  the neurowhip as he ran it down her ribs. "I thought you were...Ah!...angry..."

  "Oh, I am." He drew an erotic circle around her belly button. "Not about the escape plot—you're right, I would have done the same thing—but I'm pretty pissed about Elba."

  "I wouldn't have...I wouldn't have sent you..." She shuddered helplessly.

  He heaved an exaggerated sigh. "Now, that's the problem with torture. You can never tell if the victim means what she's saying, or if she just wants you to stop." Leaning close enough to breathe in her ear, Roarke whispered, "Do you want me to stop, Elise?"

  The whip was tracing a curving arc low on her belly, just above her pelvic bone. Any minute now he'd go lower, find her most sensitive flesh. She didn't think she could stand it if he touched her there. "God, no," she whimpered. "Don't stop."

  Aching, Roarke watched Elise writhe, her white, deliciously lush body twisting in the neurocuffs. Her eyes were closed, the long lashes fanning against the curve of her cheeks. Her soft lips parted as she gasped. Her nipples were tight little points on her full, swaying breasts, and her hips made tiny, involuntary thrusts.

  He was rapidly discovering just how uncomfortable it was to get a lead pipe erection in boarding armor. But he didn't dare take the suit off. If he did, he'd take her.

  And then neither of them would know the truth.

  ******************

  Elise opened dazed eyes and looked around for Roarke through a haze of pleasure. She found him kneeling at her feet, running the neurowhip up and down the inside of her thighs. Even though he wasn't actually touching the erect nubbin between her legs, the back spill from the device was providing a wicked stimulation every time he brought it close.

  Roarke looked up, his black eyes meeting hers, male and hungry, yet fiercely controlled. He was still wearing his armor.

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  Elise realized she wanted him out of it.

  She wanted to see his glorious body naked, feel his hands, his mouth, his strong, warm strength. The neurowhip, intense as its stimulation was, couldn't give her any of that.

  But he was trailing the device up her leg, closer and closer to her core. The sensations it wrung from her made her back arch.

  "No, wait, not like...uhhh...not like that," Elise gasped.

  Blessedly, Roarke stopped. "Don't you want to come? I can tell how..." His corded throat worked as he swallowed.".. .hot you are."

  "But I want.. .you. Take off the armor. Please, Roarke."

  His lids lowered. "Why? What difference does it make?"

  He wanted coherent thought out of her now? "It's cold."

  "I can make it warmer." He flicked one of the setting rings.

  "No!" His obtuseness was beginning to drag her out of her luscious fog. "I mean it's empty. Not like.. .not like when you touch me."

  "But it's all the same thing. Just skillful stimulation of nerve endings. Isn't that what you said this morning?"

  "It was more than that." She swallowed, licking her dry lips.

  "You think so? Let's see..." Roarke leaned closer and opened his mouth. Elise tensed, staring down at his dark head, so close to her pubic mound. This time the wet, hot tongue she felt stroke into her curls was real. And it was his. Elise shudde
red, desperate for him.

  Roarke tilted his head back to look up into her face. "I wonder. If you close your eyes, can you tell the difference?" He lifted the neurowhip again.

  "I don't want that thing. I want you." He was playing with her, dammit. She frowned, coming fully aware now, spurred by the restless blend of hunger and irritation he'd aroused so ruthlessly. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

  "Maybe."

  "All right," she snapped. "Last night was more than sex, and we both know it. Take off that bloody armor, toss the toy out the airlock, and let's stop playing around."

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  Roarke's eyes flared with hot satisfaction as he tossed the neurowhip away.

  Reaching for the shackles, he freed her legs with a couple of violent jerks. She watched impatiently as he grabbed the 'cuffs and liberated her wrists as well. Elise stepped away from the wall and helped him attack his armor, tugging off the awkward gauntlets, popping the pneumatic seal on his chestplate. Together they hauled the torso shell away from his muscled chest, flung it aside, and went to work on the lower half of the suit the minute he opened its catches.

  'This isn't just sex," Roarke told her fiercely, pulling his legs free.

  "I know that. Hurry and get that thing off." As he stripped off the last, unwanted barrier of the skinsuit, Elise shot him a cautious look. "What do you think it is?"

  "Hell, I don't know. Bed?"

  "No, here." She turned and bent over the desk. "It always made me crazy when you'd threaten to come into me like this."

  'Me too," he growled, and moved up behind her. His big hands caught her hips and tugged her back. The smooth, rounded head of his erection brushed her bottom, lowered until it found her eager heat. He entered in a slick glide, filling her endlessly as she arched in pleasure.

  "God, Roarke!"

  "Yesssss!" He pulled her greedily against him, his hands going jo her breasts to pluck and roll her hard nipples as he kissed her ear, the side of her neck, biting gently until she turned her face to his. Plunging his tongue into her mouth, he held his hips still. She didn't protest, wanting only to prolong having him within her.

  They strained together like that, kissing slowly, awkwardly, their pecks twisted, eyes closed. Elise felt Roarke shudder against her. “God," he moaned, "I want to drive into you, but it'd be over too soon. I'm too hot for you, I'd never make it last long enough."

  Elise murmured an incoherent agreement even as she felt her own control eroding. Her hips rolled once, an involuntary thrust

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  that buried his silken length a fraction deeper. She caught her breath. He felt so thick inside her, his body so strong around hers as he surrounded her with his arms and his chest and his powerful hips, cradling her in masculine power, in desire, in heat. No man had ever felt this way—as though he completed her, enhanced her, yet made her more wholly herself than she was without him.

  She wanted more.

  Teeth unconsciously biting her lip, Elise pulled away slightly, then drove back onto his width. He gasped. "Elise, don’t. I can't..."

  She thrust.

  Roarke lost control. His powerful hands clamped into the curve of her bottom and dug in as he began to lunge, driving his long male shaft in and out of her. She quivered as ecstasy ignited in her core, searing brighter with each pistoning stroke.

  "God, Elise, I need you," he groaned, "I'm not going let you go again, I'm going.,.to keep you, Ah! Whatever it takes..."

  "Yes!" She threw back her head as he pounded her, his hips slapping against hers. The pleasure blasted her every inhibition, her every vestige of control. "Yes, keep you..."

  He grated something else, but he was thrusting so hard she couldn't make it out, couldn't comprehend anything beyond the fiery length digging inside her, giving her no mercy, offering no quarter from the brutal delight.

  Detonation.

  Elise convulsed in Roarke's possessive arms, screaming through her climax as her body tightened on his so ferociously he made a startled sound.

  And came with a roar of pure male triumph.

  ******************

  When Elise next became aware, the edge of her workstation was

  digging into her belly, and Roarke was sprawled across her back,

  feeling heavy, sweaty, and utterly delicious.

  “Mmmmm. That was..." She couldn't think of the words. Noth-

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  jng seemed good enough.

  "Yeah," he agreed blurrily. "Mmmm." After a long, languorous silence, he stirred. "I must be heavy." Gently he pulled away. She caught her breath as he left her. She realized she wanted to call him back, wanted his hot weight. Without him she felt curiously light, cool. And empty.

  "I wouldn't have sent you to Elba," Elise said, suddenly desperate, though she didn't know why.

  "Yeah," he said. "I just wasn't sure you knew it."

  "What do you mean?" She pulled away from the desk, wincing a bit at the soreness in her muscles. It was an oddly satisfying ache.

  "There's something happening between us, and it's not just war." He threw her a hooded black look. "I want more of you than what I can get by shackling you to the wall."

  She grinned. "Though that has certain attractions I never would have guessed." Elise sobered. "But I'm not sure what either of us can do about it."

  His expression turned wary. "What do you mean?"

  Elise shrugged, making a helpless gesture. "We're on opposite sides, Roarke. If I don't manage to escape, I'm going to prison for the duration of the war. That doesn't sound like a particularly good way to start a relationship."

  "I know that, I..." Roarke broke off, tilting his head as though listening to something. His dark eyes widened. "How did he get past the guard stationed in crew quarters?" he barked. Realizing he must be talking to someone through his radio implant, Elise grimaced.

  "He didn't just walk through the bulkhead, Yo. I want to know what the hell..." Roarke broke off, eyes going narrow as he stared at .Elise. "Forget it, I'm sure I know someone who can tell us. In the meantime, triple the guard and send out search parties. I want that bastard found, and I don't want any more Raker people getting loose!"

  Elise stared at him, remembering she'd disabled Roarke's computer safeguards—and the one man who knew she'd done it. "Henry."

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  "Yeah." He turned around and began hunting for his armor. "We'd better get dressed. And while we're at it, you can tell me how Voronnin got past the guards I had posted at the corridor junctions in crew quarters."

  Frowning, she stood and made for a closet, stalling for time. She knew the answer, of course. Coalition ship designers were a cautious, paranoid bunch; there was an access tube that ran from the crew deck to the armory. A second tube was located just outside her quarters, also going to the armory. Nobody but senior ship's command staff knew about it. "Roarke, you know I can't tell you that. Regardless of whatever's going on between us, I have a responsibility to my crew."

  He snorted. "Maybe, but not in Voronnin's case. For one thing, I don't think he feels much loyalty in return."

  She frowned at him. "What are you talking about?"

  "How do you think we monitored your transmission to him earlier?"

  Finding a black one-piece ship suit, Elise pulled it out of the closet and put it on. "I assume you defeated my security program."

  "Not quite, or he wouldn't have gotten loose." He grunted as he shrugged back into the torso armor.

  One hand sealing the suit closed, Elise looked up. "What are you saying—that he betrayed me?"

  "Wouldn't be the first time."

  "I've known Henry Voronnin since we were in the CSS Academy. He's not the type."

  Roarke sighed. "Remember that anonymous communication that led me to you on Tyus? Ever wonder where it came from?"

  "What does that have to do with ...?"

  "Who knew you were going out onto the beach, Elise?"

&
nbsp; Elise felt her stomach sink. She'd called Henry before she'd gone for her swim that fateful night. "Anybody that looked out a window."

  "He knew who you were, Elise. Even gave your ship registry,

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  Roarke told her. "The only person who could have blown your cover was Voronnin himself."

  Henry, a traitor? It couldn't be. He was the most genuinely decent person she knew.

  It couldn't be.

  Slowly, she moved to her desk chair and sat down. "But why?" The question sounded a lot more forlorn than she would have wished.

  "Well, there's the fact that somebody with the CSS high command doesn't seem terribly fond of you. Not judging from the communique we got yesterday detailing your Superspace dropout coordinates. Hell, I met you expecting a trap—which it was, but not for the Liberator."

  Elise stared at him, wishing that for once she'd been wrong about the CSS's capacity for treachery, "That wasn't Henry. He'd have been killed if you'd destroyed the ship. No, I think Admiral Scordillis himself was responsible for that one."

  His eyebrows lifted. "A nasty enemy to have. Which gives Henry a motive." Roarke moved to lean an armored hip on the desktop. "If Voronnin knew the admiral was willing to go to those lengths to get you..."

  "Then setting me up on Tyus would make sense. It'd be the only way to save the ship. And since that failed, and since we survived your attack..." She dragged a hand through her hair as pain clawed at her. "He must have patched us into the bridge hoping to goad you into killing me. With me dead, Scordillis would leave the crew alone. God, Henry."

  And now he was on the loose. Headed for the armory. He couldn't get at the beamers—he'd need her voice command for that, the CSS having a pathological fear of mutiny—-but he could get to the boarding armor. The armor wasn't locked down, because it had to be accessible to repel invaders even with the captain dead.