by Milly Taiden
“What would you think if you were my mate?”
Her heart stumbled over itself, fell flat, then pumped overtime. “Was that a ‘Let’s pretend I’m your mate’ or ‘You want me to be your mate, for real’?” She wasn’t hungry anymore. Her stomach was too busy being nervous.
Bryon slid closer on the thick rug, his eyes never leaving hers. “The question wasn’t rhetorical nor was it a hypothetical.”
“Why me?”
He glided his knuckles over her arm, grazing her breast, and she closed her eyes at the promise in the not-so-innocent gesture.
“No one’s ever gotten to me like you do, Kari.”
“But?”
He shook his head. “No buts. I would go through captivity all over again, especially if it means meeting you.”
Kari’s eyes searched his. Bryon the badass agent wanted her. Not for a night. Not for the hottest sex she would ever have, but for himself. For her to be his mate in front of god and the entire world. She chewed on her lips and he smirked.
“What?”
“Nibble, nibble. You know you only do that when you’re arguing with yourself.”
Heat bloomed in her cheeks. “How’d you figure that?”
He leaned in so his lips were no more than a breath from hers. “Because I’ve gotten to know you, Kari. Not just your scent branded on my brain, but you. Inside and out. Whether you want to admit it or not, you are mine. MINE. My mate. Now and for always. But I can’t do anything about that alone. I need you.”
That was it. Every question, every misgiving that reached up and grabbed her was silenced. Bryon took her mouth as if he knew it, too, muzzling any remaining doubt in a hungry kiss.
He fisted her hair, his tongue plundering the sweet cavern of her mouth. “I want you, Kari. Forever. Let me have you.”
His words were a whisper in his kiss and they rang in her head. They were the same words he’d said to her in her dream and she gasped. Taking the sharp intake as an invitation for more, he unbuttoned her shirt, pushing the front wide, exposing her breasts.
“If I had known we’d be doing this I would have worn sexier underwear,” she joked.
He rolled his thumb and forefinger over her nipple and pinched the puckered flesh. “You’re sexy enough no matter what you wear, but I’d prefer you in nothing at all.”
Kari’s mouth slid into a sexy smile and she shrugged out of her shirt. “Your wish is my command.” She had to laugh at the 1,001 Arabian Nights feel of the moment. An evil prince somewhere above them. A cavern full of dried fruits and nuts and every kind of stored delicacy and a carpet that was about to become magical beneath them.
“Watch that, Kari. My wishes can be pretty primal, especially when it comes to you and the thought of your pretty pink pussy.”
His raw language made her panties wet. “I’m a tough cookie, Bryon. Bring it, baby.”
His eyes darkened to a feral green and he slid onto his knees, reaching to slip his shirt over his head. “Now you.”
Knee to knee, they each stripped off a piece of clothing one by one. Kari’s blood raced with anticipation, especially with Bryon’s thick member so prominent and clearly ready for action.
He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Do you know how lush and full you are? I could eat you up.”
She smirked. “Now there’s an idea.” Disentangling herself she stretched out on the rug, pulling her knees up and letting them fall apart. “Juicy is best, don’t you think?” Her fingers stroked her pussy, and she let her index finger slide through her slickness, lifting her finger to her mouth. “I think so.”
Bryon growled low in his throat and crawled toward her open legs, burying his face between them. He lapped and laved at her slit, circling her nub until the sensitive bud swelled beneath the rough barbs on the tip of his tongue.
She fisted his hair as she had in her dream, urging his mouth deeper, harder. Her body tensed and a climax crested, but Bryon held her at the edge, pulling his mouth away.
She cried out, protesting but he shook his head. “My wish, remember?” His smirk made her clit jerk and she slid her hand down to give herself relief, but he held her wrist. “I want to watch you come, Kari, but by my hand, not yours.”
He raised her wrist high and held it over her head and she lifted her other hand clasping her fingers together. He kissed her mouth, her chin, her neck, working his way to her breasts. He sucked and flicked her nipples, teasing each with his tongue and teeth until Kari locked her legs around his waist.
“Bryon! Please!”
He reared back and drove his cock deep, his hips grinding against hers with thrust after thrust. Again he brought her to the edge and held her there.
“Are you ready, Kari?”
“Argh! I’ve been ready, you son of a bitch! Make me come!”
He chuckled. “You’re so sexy, Kari. Hot and flushed and frustrated, and ready to eat my head or my cock, whichever you could sink your teeth into first, but I need you even more ready . . . ready for the bite of your life.”
His words pulled her back from the precipice and she looked at him. Their bodies were joined and in that moment so were their hearts, their souls. This was it. He was asking her again.
“Make me come, Bryon. I’m ready . . . for everything. For it all.” Her eyes locked on his. “For you.”
In one fluid motion he flipped her onto all fours and plunged his cock deep. He rode her hard, driving over and over, his sex swelling inside her as the ridge on his head scored her walls. She cried out as she came, rockets exploding behind her eyes.
Bryon threw his head back and the roar that ripped from his throat shook the room. Hot jets pulsed from his cock and as his body released he bit down on her nape, his mark penetrating her flesh as his sex penetrated her core.
The two fell forward, letting the spasms ebb. Sweaty and sated, he wrapped his arm around Kari’s waist and held her close against him. He licked the bloody mark, his saliva sealing the wound and making it permanent.
“You’re mine, Kari. Now and always.”
She snuggled in closer, letting the heat from his body sooth her tender bits. “Just the way I dreamed it would be.”
CHAPTER 23
Bryon curled around his little mate on the rugs. The tunnels were silent—no cars, no sirens, no wind. Just him and his dream woman. She felt so good in his arms. It had seemed like forever that he’d had to wait to hold her. But now she was his. He was hers. And he had to get her out of here and to his den.
Reluctantly, he pulled away from their shared warmth under the blanket. He gathered two bowls of food and sniffed at the bags of red wine. Didn’t make him gag, so it was probably safe to drink.
Behind him, the blanket rustled and a beautiful yawn brought music to his ears. “Good morning, my love,” he said, setting the food next to the rug they had slept on, among other things.
Kari picked up the bowl. “Thank you. That’s so thoughtful. I’m not used to having stuff done for me.”
“Well, now,” he said, sitting next to her, “you need to get used to it because I’m always going to be there to do stuff for you.”
Her head tilted toward him. She asked, “Aren’t you going to be working at ALFA?”
Yeah, he hadn’t fully thought all that through yet. Two of his other co-agents had found their mates recently. Each had taken time off to be with his mate. Sort of a honeymoon getaway. That left one guy, Sheldon, in the office with Director Tumbel.
“Our procedures say if we find our mates while in service, we are allowed to leave with full benefits after a replacement is found and trained.”
“But what about this case you’ve been undercover for for the past months? Don’t you want to find these trafficking rings?” she asked. He smiled at her. She was perfect for him. She knew exactly what he felt and wanted and they’d know
n each other for a very short time.
“Yes, I’d like to put a stop to this evil and gut those in charge,” he replied.
Her eyes widened then returned to normal. “Wow, remind me never to piss you off.” He laughed.
“No worries, love.” He kissed her forehead. “When you’re ready, we need to get going. It’s morning here. And I’m thinking an exit is nearby.”
“Because of this room being relatively clean and stocked?” she asked.
“Yup. My thoughts exactly,” he said. Bryon helped her to her feet and pulled her body to his. He inhaled her fresh scent. He could stand all day, just breathing her in. That wouldn’t get them out of the cave, though.
Taking a couple of torches with them, they stepped from the room into the aisle. “We passed at least two side tracks on the way to this room. Either could be the exit,” he said. Kari looked behind them where the tunnel continued on. The path made a sharp curve.
“Hey, Bryon,” she said, “look at this.” Torch held high, she made her way toward the turn. There on the wall was a big arrow pointing the other direction.
“Careful, Kari. Could be a trap,” he reminded her. She stopped midstride. When he took the lead, sniffing for booby traps, he felt relieved she listened and didn’t argue about her independence. At the bend in the trail, they leaned forward to peek around the edge. Seemed to be a continuation of their way. But it was a dead end into another wall.
“Look,” Kari said. She scuttled to drawings on the wall. They resembled the hieroglyphs they had seen earlier, but the swastika was a big clue this was not Egyptian in nature.
“Any idea?” he asked.
She stared at the symbols. “I’m sure you’ve guessed it’s not original to the tunnel’s creation. And maybe the answer will reveal a door or some way to continue.”
“Yup. But that’s about all I got from it.”
“You speak the language of this area?” she asked.
“Pretty much fluent,” he replied.
“I just know basic root words based on Latin. But this may not be all that complicated. May not even need specific language.” She rubbed a finger across the broken cross and the tip came back with a smudge. “They didn’t even use paint. It looks like charcoal,” she said.
“Thoughts on who ‘they’ are?”
“I’d say the rumor about Nazis stashing treasures in these tunnels is true. And I doubt the SS took the time to come up with a ball-busting puzzle.”
He bent closer to the images on the rough rock and pointed to the last picture. “That looks like it could be the earth. Europe here and that resembles Africa.” His finger traced the crude outlines. “Maybe.”
“Yes, that’s good. The swastika could mean the Nazi regime or Germany. But what the hell is this?” She pointed to stick figures, some with hats, some behind vertical lines. Those lines reminded him of the cell he was in before joining the prince for dinner.
“Could that be Nazis wearing the hats putting others in jail cells?” he asked.
Her eyes lit up. “That’s it. It says the Nazis will punish the world. In other words, they will rule the planet.” She bounced to her toes and kissed him. When she started to pull away, he grabbed and brought her back to him. He loved her taste. Wanted all he could get.
She laughed and pushed back. “All right, lover boy. More when we get out of here.”
He raised his brows. “Promise?”
“How about an entire week? Honeymoon style.” Heat infused her eyes. Her arousal scented the air. Good god, he couldn’t wait. He was ready to plow through rock walls right now. “But first, we get out of here.” She turned back to the puzzle. Below the row of drawings were two holes with a rope dangling from each. Above each hole was a word. “I bet those say yes and no, right?” she asked.
“Sharp as a tack, I’ll tell you,” he joked. She grinned and moved her hand to the “no” rope. He grabbed her arm. “Wait. Even though Germany lost the war, they didn’t know that when they stashed the stuff. So to them, the answer would’ve been yes, don’t you think?”
She stood back and chewed on her lip. First time he’d ever felt jealous of a body part.
“You’re right.” Kari grabbed the “yes” rope and pulled.
From deep inside the walls, a low rumble vibrated. Similar to the water room, but different. To his sensitive ears, the sound was coming closer.
“Bryon, do you feel that?” Her voice wavered. The ground shook, dust fell from the ceiling. They had to run, but he didn’t know to where. It sounded from all around. His instincts screamed to get away. But which way?
CHAPTER 24
Kari stared at the ceiling and walls around them. An earthquake shook everything. She looked for an opening in the rock, somewhere they could go. The dead-end wall was still a dead end. Hopefully not literally.
She whipped her head around to see the wall and ceiling from the turn in the path to where they stood disappear under tons of boulders and dirt. Bryon tackled her, keeping her away from the deadly pileup.
“What?” she yelled. “I can’t believe they would’ve answered no to that.” She pushed him off her and sprang to her feet. There was simply no way Nazi soldiers would’ve thought they’d lose the war. Maybe she’d interpreted it wrong. She grabbed the “no” rope and pulled. She wanted to see what would happen. Nothing? Was it a trick?
“Kari, don’t.” Bryon was airborne in a heartbeat, yanking her arm toward him as the ceiling above her gave way to more boulders. She screamed and ducked her head, landing on a soft body. Dust coated her throat and she coughed, her hand waving away the particles from her face.
“Those bastards cheated,” she said. “Both options were bad. Good thing they lost the damn war.” She stood in the small space between the second dump of rocks and the dead-end wall and dusted her pants off. “Now what?”
The powder floating in the air swirled where there should be no breeze or movement. “Bryon?” she said.
He stood behind her and faced the wall. “I see it. Hold on a second.” He picked up the one torch that had survived the landslide and blew on the dying embers to reignite the flames. He held it in front of the wall and watched the smoke waft to the side. He handed the torch to her and put his hands on the wall. Bracing his feet against the floor, he shoved against one side.
The wall/door pivoted so quickly, the far side of the door whipped around and smacked him in the ass, throwing him into a new part of the tunnels. She almost peed her pants laughing so hard.
“I see now,” she started, “why both ropes were sabotaged. They didn’t have to solve it to make the door move. You just had to push it. Lightly.”
Bryon picked himself up off the floor and wiped his hands on his pants. “From your position, I can see this being funny. But not really from mine.” She laughed more and walked through the cleared doorway. She reached for his hand and continued forward.
“I hope this ends soon,” she said. “I’m so tired of this stupid tunnel. I want sunshine and fresh air.”
“Me, too, love. I’d really like a bed to take you in.” His brows slipped up and down. She laughed.
“Is that all you think about? Sex?” she teased.
He lifted her against the wall and she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Until you pass out screaming my name, it is. You got a problem with that?”
“Not at all,” she said and kissed him.
Needing air, they parted, each panting. “We can do it right here on the floor,” she said.
“I don’t want to bruise your back or knees. It’ll have to wait until I can lick you from head to toe and eat your creamy center before making you come.”
Damn. She shivered from the image of that in her mind. Her legs unlocked from around him. “Let’s get going, then. Time’s a wastin’.” When he set her feet on the ground, she slapped his ass. “On your toes, sold
ier. Get me the hell outta here.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He laughed, grabbing her hand. Despite the levity in their conversation, she knew he was careful of traps and surprises waiting for them. They turned a corner and were met with another dead-end wall. But this end sported designs different from any they’d seen. The rock was even different from the sidewalls. The ground was covered with dirt and sand. It looked much . . . newer.
Bryon held up the torch to the newest obstacle. From top to bottom, side to side, twelve circles lined up. “Well, damn,” she said, “yet another death-defying escape required. I’m so over this shit.”
Bryon’s brows drew down and his head tilted. “You hear that?”
She closed her eyes and focused on listening. “No. What is it?”
“Voices. I hear voices on the other side of the wall,” he said.
She lifted her arms into the air. “Hallelujah. It’s about freaking time.”
“We just need to solve this last riddle,” he said as he stepped back to see it all. “What do you think?”
She stared at the circles, which all had straight lines zigzagging through them. As she gazed, her brain reproduced the images and mixed and matched them in her mind. When overlaying and turning the figures, a pattern slowly emerged.
It seemed to be a sequence in which each circle design built on the previous one by adding one more line. Various lines were here and there, but all circles had one path in common. The twelfth circle had three lines no others had sprouting from the previous circle’s line: one hooked left, one right, and the last pointed straight ahead. Obviously, they had to pick one of those. But which one? What was this diagram supposed to be?
“You know,” Bryon said, “if you rotate these, they all have matching lines.” He pointed to top left. “These three lines are identical to these three,” he pointed to the circle below it, “but this bottom one has one more length to it.”