Flame of the Alpha

by Lacey Savage

  “I know.” Sophia swallowed past the lump in her throat. She couldn’t hand Dante over to the authorities any more than she could let them sweep through the Academy.

  Besides, she needed him. She refused to be one of the few High Priestesses who couldn’t execute the Lighting of the Flame ceremony. Her name would be permanently erased from the history books, and she’d be stripped of her title and sold to the lowest bidder in punishment for disobeying her patron Saint.

  Dante was her best hope of assuring her legacy. She’d been the High Priestess for six years, and although she’d found suitable Flames in the past, none had garnered the blessing of Saint Valentine.

  Dante was different. He had to be different. Sophia was nearing her thirty-fourth birthday. She had only a few more years left before her body began to work against her, fighting the natural pull toward granting Saint Valentine’s fondest wish.

  “Two weeks,” she murmured, fighting the panic that welled in her chest. “You can claim him then.”

  Captain Jolen looked ready to argue, but Dante released Sophia’s hand and strode forward with a purpose, stopping only when his chest was flush with the other man’s. Their cocks touched, Dante’s large, swollen member prodding the Captain’s spent shaft to full awareness in the span of a heartbeat.

  “I want to be ready for you,” Dante whispered huskily in the other man’s ear. “The wait will be worth it.”

  The captain snatched a handful of Dante’s curls and dug his fingers into the nape of the man’s neck, pulling him closer still. “Kiss me.”

  Sophia stiffened, a groan catching in her throat. Would he do it? This was another test like all the others. One Dante could easily fail.

  Her pulse pounded, hammering a steady beat in her ears as she watched. And waited.

  A hush had fallen over those nearby, until the only thing Sophia could hear was the beating of her own heart. It thrummed in time with her arousal, her pussy fluttering with need as she took in the two firm, masculine bodies pressed against one another, the battle of wills that kept them together, daring one another to make the wrong move.

  “Beg me,” Dante said, his voice low and demanding.

  Sophia forgot to breathe. She was certain the Captain would push him away and summon his men to arrest him. No pleasure servant would dare to speak that way to a prospective patron, or to anyone, for that matter.

  Captain Jolen’s hands stroked up and down Dante’s spine before cupping his ravaged buttocks in his broad palms. Dante let out a sharp hiss between clenched teeth.

  “The day I beg you for anything, slave, will be the day one of us takes his last breath.”

  He yanked Dante to him, grinding his cock against the other man’s groin and pressed his mouth to Dante’s gorgeous lips. For a moment, neither man moved, then Dante’s lips parted and Sophia saw his tongue snake inside the other man’s mouth.

  The kiss was fierce, a struggle for dominance between two men used to being in control. And it was hot as hell.

  Arousal unfurled deep in Sophia’s belly. Cream slicked her nether lips and her hand drifted of its own accord down her stomach to nestle in the curls at the apex of her thighs. She pressed the heel of her hand against her clit, lost in the erotic display before her.

  She’d seen men kiss. Hundreds ‑‑ perhaps thousands ‑‑ of times. Yet never had a masculine kiss been as erotically charged as this one. Not once had she wanted to thrust two fingers inside herself and fill her aching channel until stars sparked behind her eyelids because she was loath to shut them long enough to blink for fear of missing a second of the delicious spectacle.

  Much too soon, Captain Jolen pulled away. With one last haughty glare at Sophia, he smacked the flat of his hand across Dante’s ass, drawing another half-strangled grunt from the man’s throat.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

  “I said two weeks,” Sophia reminded him, fighting to keep her voice even.

  “I know what you said, but I’m not about to trust my property exclusively to your…expert care.”

  She gritted her teeth, struggling to swallow back the angry retort that settled on her tongue. How was it that this man managed to make even a compliment sound like an insult?

  “I’ll put down a deposit immediately, which will entitle me to daily visits,” Captain Jolen continued. “I expect Dante to be ready for me when I arrive. He’s mine, Madame Rousseau. Mine.”

  The captain stormed away, leaving behind a flurry of excited voices raised in speculation. Sophia sighed. She watched as he climbed the steps and lifted his uniform. A few minutes later, the Central Command armor once again encased his body in white metal. Relief poured through Sophia when the Captain gestured to his men and marched out of the inner courtyard.

  “Master Neo isn’t a man you want as an enemy.”

  Sophia jerked her gaze away from the doors, alarmed by the unusually subdued tone in Faye’s voice.

  “I’d rather we didn’t attract the attention of any Terran officials. You know that.”

  Faye acknowledged Sophia’s words with a slight nod, but her attention remained fixed on Dante. She grabbed his wrist and tugged him through the crowd, murmuring polite greetings to the other patrons as she swept past them.

  Sophia shrugged into her silk robe, the thin material shimmying over her sensitized skin to summon another shiver of arousal. She followed Faye and Dante to the edge of the garden, where they could speak in private.

  “Since he knows about you now, I can’t hide you,” Faye said, her pale blue eyes shimmering with something akin to tears. “You’re on your own, Dante.”

  He shrugged a massive shoulder. “It’s not the first time. I’ve dealt with men more menacing than this guy.”

  “Don’t be so sure of that. The captain has a reputation among the patrons who are…dissatisfied with the Academy’s training procedures.” She darted an apologetic look at Sophia.

  “Dissatisfied? I’ve never heard any complaints about our graduates.”

  “Of course not. Master Neo isn’t governed by the Academy’s rules or regulations. He’s a freelance instructor of sorts.”

  “What does that mean?” Dante asked.

  Sophia sighed as the truth of Faye’s words sank in. She studied Dante’s face, wondering if he really didn’t know, but found only confusion etched across his features. And damn if that didn’t make him even more endearing.

  Tough and rugged, the man looked like he could snap any one of the usual pleasure servants in half with no effort at all. He gave as good as he got, but he knew next to nothing about surviving as a pleasure servant.

  “He’s a Dominant,” Sophia said, looking to Faye for confirmation. When the woman nodded, Sophia’s gut churned. “He trains pleasure servants to go against their nature and learn to punish instead of submitting to punishment themselves.”

  A frown wrinkled Dante’s brow. “I’m not the submissive type.”

  “I don’t think he wants you to submit,” Faye said, running a hand through her bound hair. A few strands escaped the tight bun, drifting lightly around her face. “As odd as it sounds, I think he wants you to learn from him.”

  “He certainly seems determined. Ten million tokens?” Sophia let out a low whistle. “Even with the government taking its cut, that’s a huge payday for the Academy.”

  “Neo can’t be allowed to get his hands on Dante,” Faye stated firmly. “Not alone. If the Captain figures out what he is ‑‑”

  “Whoa!” Dante made a crisscross motion with his hands. “Time out. Does everyone know?”

  Sophia smiled and placed her palm over his hand. “Just us. Some of the priestesses will suspect when they meet you, but none of the pleasure servants or the patrons have any way of discerning what kind of blood runs through your veins.”

  “Unless you leave the safety of these walls,” Faye warned, leaning close to Dante. “Out there, you’ll be prey. In here, Sophia can protect you.”

  Dante scowled, his cock bobbing
as his spine stiffened. “I don’t need protecting.”

  “Just until the lockdown measures are lifted,” Sophia put in helpfully.

  And until after the Lighting of the Flame.

  Faye released a deep breath on a shuddering sigh, her gaze assessing Dante from head to toe. At last, she shook her head and turned away from them, but not before tossing one last statement over her shoulder. “Quinn was right about you.”

  Chapter Four

  Dante had never been so happy to hear a familiar name in his entire life. Grabbing Faye’s elbow, he stopped her before she could rejoin the crowd.

  “You know Quinn?” he hissed in her ear, frustration and impatience simmering at the edges of his self-control. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

  An enigmatic smile curved Faye’s rouged lips. “I know enough about you, Dante Lotton, to know you like to be in control. But you’re not in charge here. You can’t be. And I can’t let you run around Vieux Orleans like you own the place.”

  Dante grunted and released the woman’s arm. “He’s all right, then? Enigma? The rest of the crew?”

  “For now, yes. They’re being pursued by Central Command, of course. And there’s a bounty on the ship and each crew member’s head, which means mercenaries will soon get in on the fun.”

  “Fuck!” Dante swept a hand through his hair. A stubborn curl fell over his forehead, reminding him there was a reason the Mars General Alliance officials insisted recruits should get regular buzz cuts. “I should have been there with them.”

  Sophia’s hand skimmed over his shoulder blade, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver of awareness down his spine. “You will be. Just as soon as we can get you out of here.”

  “I need to go, but I’ll return for the ceremony.” Faye’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “I trust there will be one?”

  Dante’s gaze darted between Sophia and Faye, noting the tension bubbling just beneath the surface of both women’s controlled demeanor, but not understanding its cause.

  “Why wouldn’t there be?” Sophia answered, her smile a little too bright.

  Faye nodded approvingly, then turned to Dante. “I’ll let Quinn know you’re safe. He’ll be glad to hear it.”

  She was almost out of earshot before Dante recalled her words. Curiosity won out and he ran to catch up to her, stopping her for a second time as she reached the base of the stairs leading into the Temple. “What did you mean when you said Quinn was right about me?”

  She laughed, sounding genuinely amused. “He told me once that bringing you onboard meant Enigma’s crew would be protected from most of the trouble that came their way. He also said Enigma now had twice the amount of trouble to contend with than they did before you stepped foot on the ship.”

  He watched her disappear through the double doors bordered by Saint Valentine’s ever-watchful presence. Regret coiled in his gut, raw and unfamiliar. Was this what homesickness felt like? The sensation was entirely new, and altogether unpleasant. He’d never felt this way on any of his missions away from Mars. Not that there was anyone left to care whether he returned alive by the time he joined the General Alliance and began soaring through the universe. His mother had died in childbirth, and his father six years later, in an aero-racing competition. He’d moved from orphanage to orphanage since then, but none of the sterile hospices ever felt like home.

  Until he joined Enigma’s crew.

  Damn it, he even missed Vance and his incessant lecturing. That had to mean something in Earth’s atmosphere was scrambling his brain cells, because those feelings would have never surfaced on their own. Vance and Dante had clashed since the moment Dante had stepped foot on the ship. Vance was moral to a fault, principled, stubborn, and had a stick up his ass the size of Jupiter. In contrast, Dante’s carefree attitude and his reluctance to think about the past, much less talk about it with some blasted psychoanalyst who got his kicks from digging around in people’s brains, was always a point of contention.

  “Hey,” Sophia said softly, coming up behind him. “You all right?”

  The scent of her arousal mingled with the aroma of wild orchids. He drank in the heady fragrance before turning around, remembering the way she’d looked in the privacy of her sanctuary. Dante’s flagging cock snapped to attention as images of Sophia on her knees, her beautiful ass and quivering pussy bared to him, flooded his mind.

  He spun around sharply. “Why are you helping me?”

  She smoothed a hand over his forehead to tuck back a stray curl, her palm cool against his heated skin. The contact sliced hot arousal through him, and she’d only touched his head, for Saints’ sake!

  “Let me show you to your room,” she said, darting a glance toward the crowd. “The first patron won’t be ready to take home his chosen servant for at least a few more hours.”

  Dante squinted, hostility churning inside him as he watched the potential patrons take carnal liberties with the servants. “How can you be so sure?”

  “This is only the first meeting. Very few patrons make up their mind so quickly. Most like to return and visit their chosen servants for at least a few weeks before reaching a final purchasing decision, and then the negotiations begin.” She lifted the hem of her robe and swept past him onto the steps. “It’s not as simple as buying a flashy spacecraft or picking out your next vid-screen.”

  Dante scowled as he fell into step beside her. “Then why do so many people treat the servants they buy with no more care than they’d give a stylish piece of furniture?”

  He hadn’t expected an answer, and Sophia didn’t give him one. Instead, she pushed the ornately carved door open and stepped into the cool interior of the Temple. Closing the door behind them plunged the cavernous room into shadowy darkness. Sophia crossed her arms over her breasts and assessed him carefully as his eyes adjusted to the dim surroundings.

  He’d never been inside an Academy Temple before, but he’d heard stories of the elegant architecture that persisted throughout every such building’s construction phase. Still, nothing had prepared him for the angles, colors, and textures inside the place.

  The central hall was dome-shaped, leading to two exits distinguished by their massive curved archways. Sculptured representations of Saint Valentine and his worshippers engaged in carnal displays of wantonness decorated the perimeters of the Temple, while colorful paintings emblazoned on the curved walls showed more scenes of debauchery and unbridled lasciviousness.

  Dante’s gaze flashed across the various images, lingering on couples fucking in every position imaginable ‑‑ and even some he hadn’t considered.

  “It’s a little overwhelming when you first take it all in, but you get used to it.” Sophia’s voice seemed much too loud in the shadowy midst of the Temple hall.

  “Sensory overload,” Dante murmured. Even the air smelled of sex, drenched in a pungent, musky aroma that made him think of burying his face in Sophia’s cunt and inhaling deeply all over again.

  That image made his already rigid shaft grow harder. He grabbed Sophia’s hand and yanked her to him until they stood fused together, her hip pressed against his upper thigh. He could feel the heat of her skin even through the thin material draping her luscious curves, and his libido fired up in response.

  “My room,” he growled under his breath. “Where is it?”

  “That way.” Sophia pointed in the direction of the other exit, across the temple dome.

  A breeze wafted in through a high, circular stained-glass window, carrying with it the sounds of erotic activity from the inner courtyard. The volume of the passionate chorus seemed to intensify, echoing off the walls of the Temple hall and driving him even farther out of his mind.

  She was so close he could smell the nuances of her intimate scent. He knew the aroma of her arousal from swirling his tongue through her delicate folds, but this was different. The smell blended with the wanton miasma permeating the room, culminating in a throbbing need that pulsed in his groin.

  Was it
this place, or was it Sophia who had him so far over the edge? His skin smarted where the Captain had whipped him, but even those wounds conspired to send tingles of heat into his cock.

  He should have been ashamed. Embarrassed by being tossed over a bench and smacked like a schoolboy who’d misbehaved, yet he felt none of that. Being able to bury his nose and mouth into Sophia’s delicious cunt had taken the sting out of the humiliating scene. He’d been able to throw himself into the task of pleasuring her, but the experience had been erotically stimulating for him, too. Each lash had driven his tongue deeper inside her, questing, seeking, desperately hoping to unleash his pent-up frustration into her pussy.

  And now that they were alone, when he should have been contemplating ways to avoid the Captain’s return visit, Dante could think of nothing but yanking up Sophia’s robe and baring her long legs so she could wrap them around his waist and sink onto his meaty cock.

  She’d indicated the direction of his room, but neither one of them moved. They stood there, bare skin pressed against flimsy fabric, making no move to touch or explore one another.

  Dante’s breathing grew shallow, matching hers. She glanced up at him with impossibly dark eyes, her lips parting a fraction of an inch. When the tip of her tongue swept out between them, the remainder of his self-control slipped another notch toward oblivion.

  Wrapping his arm around her waist, he pulled her to him for the kiss he’d been imagining since he’d tossed her across his lap. Sophia’s eyes widened with raw awareness; then her lashes fluttered down as she moved her lips slowly against his.

  Energy crackled along his veins, fanning the flames of his arousal. The animal in him called out to this woman, demanding to undress her, ravish her, possess her. Blood roared in his ears as he stroked his tongue between her lips and delved inside the sweetness of her mouth.

  She moaned, a sweet, tender sound, and relaxed in his arms. Wrapping her hand in his hair, she tugged at his curls. The captain had been rough and unyielding, but Sophia was all softness and warmth. The contrast sent a near-painful jolt of intensity through his nerve endings.