Creed of Pleasure; the Space Miner's Concubine (The LodeStar Series)

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Creed of Pleasure; the Space Miner's Concubine (The LodeStar Series) Page 22

by Cade, Cathryn


  “Because you were right. I was acting as your wh—”

  He lifted his hand, his fingers over her mouth, pressing hard enough to shut her up. “No,” he growled. “I do not ever want to hear that word from your mouth again, you get me? I should never have said it, it was a filthy thing to say. I’m ashamed that I did, and to you of all the women in the galaxy.”

  Her eyes widened, brightened. “Of all the women in the galaxy?” she repeated through his fingers.

  He nodded, pulling her closer, her breasts against his chest, her skirts foaming around his legs. “The one woman I let in, the one I want in. The one I’ll never get out of my system,” he murmured. “The woman I don’t think I can live without.”

  “Oh,” she murmured, melting against him. “Oh, Creed. I don’t think I can live without you, either. I mean I probably can, because all you need is air and food and drink, the things they’re celebrating here, but it doesn’t feel like that’s enough anymore.”

  He tipped his forehead against hers. “Think I could do without those, if I have you. Only thing I want to harvest is you. Want to mine you, too. Go deep.”

  She giggled through her tears. “Oh, Creed.”

  Then she shut up, because he was kissing her.

  * * *

  After a time Creed lifted his head, just enough to mutter, “You think I can fuck you with this gown on, because I wanna take you dancing, but I don’t think I can wait—”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Yes, yes, Creed. We can, um—you know, from behind.” She blushed, but pulled far enough back to gesture at the sofa. “I can lean over the back.”

  Unable to speak coherently, he nodded. Then he watched, working his pants open to release his eager, straining cock as his dream woman turned her back on him, gave a few graceful wriggles and worked her fluttering skirts up over her bare legs, and bared her sweet, round ass to him. She leaned over the back of the sofa so that he could now see her pussy, wet and ready for him, then gave him a look over her shoulder, her green eyes full of enticement. “I’m all yours. Beast style.”

  “You’re not wearing anything under there,” he said wonderingly, palming his cock. “I’d known that, I would’ve had you in the elevator—any style we could manage.”

  She whimpered as he cupped his free hand over her, then speared two fingers carefully into her heat, opening her to his cock. She was so wet and soft, and he could smell her pussy, mingling with her unique flowery perfume. “Ev-everyone w-would have seen us.”

  He watched raptly as his cock, engorged with desire, so big and blunt against her pale, lush curves, forged inside. “Don’t care. Want everyone to know—you’re mine.”

  With the words, he drove home, balls deep into heaven, and then bent over her, caging her in his arms, her ass against his groin, breasts in his hands. “Taara. Caramel girl, so fuckin’ sweet and hot. Not gonna last.”

  She wriggled against him and worked one hand between her thighs. “Creed Forth, shut up and fuck me.”

  He hadn’t known it was possible to laugh while he was holding a woman in his hands, legs braced behind hers, fucking her for all he was worth, so that the sofa rocked beneath them and the heat of the fire coalesced in his loins, burning him up from the inside out. Now he did, and it felt wonderful. He put his hand over hers and took over, working her clitoris as he fucked her.

  “I’ll fuck you,” he groaned. “Never wanna … stop. Fuck you forever.” Except that having her in his arms again, her slick heat caressing him in secret, her soft cries urging him onward, drove him all too swiftly up the mountainside of pleasure and flung him, soaring over the top.

  Luckily she was with him, crying out his name and convulsing around him as she came.

  He held himself up, hands braced on the sofa back, breathing as if he’d been sparring, feeling sweat trickle down his back and chest under the suit. Happier than he’d been in a long time as he slowly pulled out of his woman, hearing her soft sound of disappointment at losing him.

  He patted her bottom, and then fumbled in his pocket for the snowy handkerchief that had come with the suit, tucking it between her thighs.

  She straightened and let her skirts fall to her knees, then gave him a look over her shoulder, her cheeks pink, green eyes heavy and sweet with repletion.

  “I’ll go clean up. Be right back. Don’t—don’t go anywhere.”

  She was honestly afraid he’d walk away after that? Not until he stopped breathing. He shook his head, his gaze never leaving hers. “Swear it, caramel girl. Not letting you go again.”

  She was smiling as she walked away. He’d do anything to keep that look on her face, as if he’d just handed her the moons and stars.

  Creed waited until she was out of sight before he forced his feet to move. He used the other lav, straightened his clothing, and washed his hands. He stared at himself in the mirror, something he did not spend time doing.

  “You are one lucky miner,” he muttered. “Luckiest man on the planet, with the best treasure you could hope to find.”

  And that was a truth a man could hold onto.

  * * *

  As they entered the ballroom again, they paused just inside to look around. Taara smiled at the dancers swirling past to a sprightly waltz. The scene now seemed rich with color, beauty and fun—all the things it had lacked before. Because of the man at her side.

  She tightened her grip on his arm and moved a little closer to him.

  Creed looked down at her, but with the hint of a frown in his blue eyes.

  “What?” she asked tenderly. Whatever it was, she would reassure him. There was no problem they couldn’t solve, together.

  “You sure you can leave all this, to come and live at LodeStone?” he asked, his gesture encompassing the party and music and lights.

  Taara stared at his handsome, brave, intelligent, clueless face for a sec, then burst out laughing. She leaned her forehead on his shoulder until she could get herself under control. Then she looked up at him again, still giggling.

  “Oh, Creed. Do you imagine my life is like this? Sweetheart, this is the first ball I’ve been to in my entire life. My life is my work and being with the people I care about, the people I love.” She looked down shyly, lifting her hand to trace the edge of his lapel. “And now that’s you.”

  His arm bunched in her grip, and he groaned under his breath. “Ah, caramel girl. You had to wait until now, when we’re surrounded by all these—these city people to say that?”

  He moved then, swiftly and with decision, whisking her back out the doors and along the hallway, and out onto a shadowed balcony, the moonlight shining down on them. There he turned her into his arms, and bent his head to her for a deep, hot kiss.

  “You’re the people I care about too,” he said. “I mean the one—the one I love. Never knew I could feel this crazy, like I could fly without my cruiser one minute, then like I’m at the bottom of the mine the next. Hope to hells it calms down after a while, or don’t think I’ll survive the ride.”

  “Oh, Creed,” she breathed. “You love me?”

  “I do. But I guess I thought I was riding in here like some kind of hero, to rescue you from a bad life. Looks to me like you saved yourself, and you could do all right without me.”

  She tiptoed up to kiss him. “Yes,” she said. “I could. I’d be fine—if that means plenty to eat and a place to live. But I would be so lonely. I’d be missing you every day and night. And I’d be frightened of spending the rest of my life alone. And I don’t want that. I want you, and your mountain valley and your house—although it could use a little more color—and swimming in the pool with you—”

  “And making love with me under the waterfall,” he added, his arms tightening. “And in my bed, and on the sofa. And maybe a few other places.”

  He kissed her again and then put her away from him, holding out his arm. “You come back to LodeStone, Taara Ravel, you can have as much damn color as you can stuff into the place. And a cruiser to br
ing you here to the city as often as you like, so you can keep up your business with your cousin.

  “Now, let’s go show off your pretty dress, and then after a while maybe you’ll come back up to my room with me and we can start over, for the right reasons this time—because we belong together.”

  Her heart brimming over with happiness and love, she took his arm and smiled up at him.

  “Now that, Creed Forth, is a proposition I can put my heart into.”

  The End

  Thank you for reading Creed of Pleasure. I hope you enjoyed it!

  For an excerpt from LodeStar Book 3; Captive of Pleasure, please keep reading.

  best,

  Cathryn

  The LodeStar Series

  Book Three,

  Captive of Pleasure: the Space Pirate’s Woman

  Here’s an excerpt …

  “My lord.” The tribeswoman stepped in through the open door hatch and peered around the lamplit tont. “Where is she? Has she escaped?”

  “My new slave girl?” Shakhbar, lord of the Neghelle pirates and ruler of the eastern Frontieran plains, set his flagon of moonbrandy on the tray hovering at his elbow, and jerked his chin toward a shadowed corner. “She’s there.”

  Nera, his cook and tont-keeper, held her robe away from her face with one hand and shook her head, puzzled. “Where, my lord?”

  He grinned, his wide mouth revealing strong white teeth. With one large, bare toe, he indicated the rugs that covered the floor. One of them, in the shadows behind a pile of unused cushions, had a large hump underneath.

  Nera gasped, her loose, embroidered robes swishing as she stepped forward. “My lord. Do you wish me to drag her out?”

  He shook his head, long hair falling forward over broad, bare shoulders. “No, be at peace. She’ll come out when she’s ready. You enjoy the evening fires with your man. Drop the door cloth, I don’t want to be disturbed.”

  She nodded, but he heard her tsk of disapproval as she stepped out of the tont into the warm desert night. Sounds of the camp were audible through the tont’s thin walls—crackling fires, the calls of tethered catamount ponies and the voices of the tribe as they settled down for an evening of leisure. Footsteps padded past, but a covered doorway meant none would bother their leader unless it was urgent.

  He lay back on his comfortable divan, long legs clad in soft pants stretched out before him, and returned to perusing the holoreader in his hand. The tont was quiet, only the quiet strumming of a quithar audible from a nearby fireside. The rug in the corner rustled, followed by a tiny grunt of discomfort.

  “You may come out if you like,” he said, in the relaxed, soothing voice he used on an unbroken catamount pony. “No one will bother you. There’s only you and me.”

  When there was no answer except quiet breathing, he went on. “I have cool water. You must be thirsty by now. And, I don’t suppose those bastards fed you much, did they? I have ripe gremel fruit and some bread and meat rolls. We call them yamas.”

  The rug moved, and his keen hearing picked up the sound of a stomach gurgling with hunger. He bit back the grin that threatened.

  Very slowly, the corner of the rug lifted, to reveal tousled, dark blonde hair through which a pair of large, blue eyes peered. They held a look of wariness and distrust that rivaled that of any wild creature on this new planet. But they were indubitably human, and lovely.

  “Would you like some water?” he offered casually, his gaze still on his holoreader.

  Her full lips, dry and cracked, compressed with longing. Her long hair moved as she nodded.

  Moving slowly, he leaned over to take a bottle of water from the low table at his side, set with supper. He bit the top off, spit it to one side, and leaned over to hold out the bottle. When she didn’t move, he set it on the carpet before her and lay back.

  She pulled the bottle under the rug with her and drank so quickly he could hear the water gurgling down her throat and the bottle, crafted of organic wax and plant fibers, crackling as it collapsed. Then she sighed with evident relief.

  He smiled to himself. “Plenty of food here,” he remarked. He reached over and took a gremel fruit from the tray and bit into it, slurping the insides from the skin. “Mm-mm, sweet and juicy, just the way I like them.”

  The rug moved again, rising as she craned her neck to watch him eat. She swallowed audibly and her stomach growled again.

  He wiped his fingers, then twisted in his seat to pick up the low table and deposit it on the carpet between them.

  “Here,” he said. “Come and eat.”

  She was still for a time, but when her stomach growled again, this time so loudly it nearly drowned out the quithar tune, she sat up very slowly, the rug slipping off her bare shoulders and back. She grabbed it, watching him carefully. He did not move a muscle.

  “Eat,” he murmured and then went back to his holoreader.

  He waited until she had her mouth full and her attention focused raptly on the rest of the warm, flaky roll full of meat in her slender, dirty hands, before he looked at her again.

  She was going to be a beauty once the dirt was scrubbed off of her. The slavers had dressed her in a tiny, shimmering top that barely contained her full breasts, and a dancer’s loin cloth with beads and feathers framing her full hips, but they hadn’t bothered to clean her up. Her long hair hung in dirty coils, her limbs were smudged with grime and his hawk nose twitched at the stench of her unwashed body and that of her Mau captors.

  He wondered if she had any idea how lucky she was that they’d kept her virginal to bring a higher price. The auctioneer had brayed ecstatically about her intact hymen, and he’d had to pay an astronomical price in galactic credits to outbid the other males and females wielding bidding coms. Of course it helped that most of them were afraid of him and of what he’d do if they outbid him.

  He’d saved her from a brothel or worse. Now he just had to figure out what the seven hells to do with her. Lord Shakhbar had purchased a slave girl from an illicit auction, but Joran Stark had all the women he knew what to do with already.

  And if his brothers ever found out he’d actually purchased a slave girl, they’d never let him hear the end of it.

  Captive of Pleasure will be available in early 2014.

  To be among the first to know:

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  Other books by Cathryn Cade

  Sci fi futuristic romance

  The LodeStar Series

  Stark Pleasure; the Space Magnate’s Mistress

  The Orion Series

  Tyger, Tyger, Burning Bryght

  Her Commander

  Prince of Dragons

  Deep Indigo

  The Frontiera Series

  Heart of Stone – Free

  Heart of Steel – coming soon

  Contemporary paranormal romance

  Hawaiian Heroes

  Walking in Fire

  Rolling in the Deep

  Blooming in the Wild

  Burning up the Rain

  Contemporary erotic romance

  Club 3 Series

  She’s All In

  She’s All Tied Up

  She’s All That – available Spring 2014

  Visit www.cathryncade.com to

  read reviews and buy the books

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen


  Chapter Nineteen

  Captive of Pleasure Excerpt

  Other books by Cathryn Cade

 

 

 


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