Captured Rapture: 3 (Mercy)

by Lexxie Couper

  Fraz was a prime example of his species. What he was doing as a GU Enforcer, I didn’t know, but I thanked the old gods every day he was on my side. I’d never tell him of course, but I was glad he was my partner, and not just because he scared the shit out of just about everyone. He always had my back, no matter how dangerous or messed-up the situation, and for a girl who grew up being tossed from one orphanage to another, having someone watch your back was pretty fucking incredible.

  Of course, that didn’t mean I wouldn’t throw him a filthy look when he was being a dick, like he was now. The last thing I needed was Fraz laughing at me. Geez, after everything I’d been through. “Shut the fuck up, Fraz,” I grunted, letting him see my best menacing glare. I have a very good menacing glare. It comes in handy a lot.

  Fraz, however, just laughed again, his slitted green eyes practically gleaming with mirth. “I don’t know what you were doing out there, Mynn, but you look like you had an argument with the ground and came off second best.”

  Taking a page from his book, I bared my teeth. Again, not a particularly wise thing to do. Bared teeth meant one of two things to a Bo’aa—you wanted to fight them or you wanted to fuck them. I didn’t want to do either.

  No, you want to fuck the lunatic weirdo from—

  I shut the thought down with a sharp snort and stormed away. It would take us approximately half an hour to get back up to Port Mercy. I wanted a shower.

  “Wait wait wait wait.” Fraz laughed behind me and I turned to glare at him again. Did I mention he was ugly? And annoying? Loyal, sure, but at times really annoying. And ugly all the time. “You can’t just walk away looking the way you do and not expect me to demand a report.” A grin pulled at his lipless mouth and his green eyes glinted. “Don’t make me pull rank on you, Enforcer Mynn.”

  I rolled my eyes. You’ve got to be kidding me. “Rank? Friggin’ alphabet, you mean. We graduated from the academy at the same time, from the same class, with the same scores. The only reason you received your bars before me is because your last name is M’x.”

  I fisted my hands on my hips and glared at him some more, trying not to grin. “What the hell kind of name is that for a Bo’aa anyway? M’x?”

  Fraz smirked, a sheen rippling over his brilliant orange scales. “The best kind. Now give me your report or I’ll kick your ass all the way back to the spaceport.”

  Fraz beat me once in a training session of te’kw d, a thoroughly violent and brutal fighting style they teach at the academy, and he’d never let me live it down. One day soon I was going to have to do something about that, but not right now. Right now I wanted to get the smell of the dead moon off my skin. Right now I wanted to wash away every second I’d spent on its desolate surface. Especially the seconds spent pinned between it and the madman who’d declared me his destiny.

  Torr.

  A tight, squirming knot of heat suddenly filled the pit of my belly and I groaned. Shyte, why did I have to go and think about that lunatic again?

  Again? Had I really stopped? I bit back another groan. Fuck.

  Fraz cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. “You want to tell me anything, partner?” His tongue flicked out, tasting the air, and I suppressed the urge to fidget. Tasting the air wasn’t bullshit. Bo’aas have freaky senses. “Why do you smell like you’ve been having sex?”

  Ah, hell. “Yeah.” I gave him a duh-are-you-stupid look. “I had sex. I found this all-male brothel out on the cold side and thought, shyte, I haven’t had any for a while, may as well take the tension off while I’m out here.”

  Fraz flicked out his tongue again and shook his head. “Nope. You definitely smell of sex. The air tastes of your musk, emanating from between your legs, and I can detect elevated levels of—”

  My face burst into mortified heat and I slammed my hands over my ears. “Oh my God, Fraz!” I yelped, staring at him. “Shut up. That is wrong. Just plain wrong.”

  He grinned at me. “Just telling it like it is, partner. Whatever you were doing while off your jet cycle, it wasn’t GU work—and you were enjoying it.”

  I threw up my hands and turned away. “Get a life,” I tossed out as I rushed across our short-range shuttle’s cycle bay. “Better yet, get a new tongue. The one you have is faulty.”

  “Bo’aa tongue knows all, Raina Mynn,” Fraz called out, and I ground my teeth not only at the elated mirth in his voice but the horrible, horrible truth in his words. The pit of my belly churned. My face felt hot. My friggin’ pulse pounded in my neck.

  Enjoying it.

  Yeah, Fraz was right. I had been enjoying it. Whoever my weirdo on Mercy’s beta moon was, whatever insane ideas he had about me being his destiny, what he’d been doing to me had felt goddamn wonderful. I may have fought the bastard off, but I’d never experienced anything as intensely delicious as the dominating force of his lust. The arrogant power of his certainty.

  The rightness of his touch.

  I stumbled to a halt. Had I just thought that? My mouth went dry and I ran my hands—my trembling hands; what was wrong with me?—up and down my arms.

  No. I shook my head and continued through the shuttle, heading for my quarters and my shower cubicle. I was overworked and overtired. Fraz and I had been tracking an escaped spice dealer for the last two months. We’d had no downtime. That’s why I was thinking Tall, Dark and Delusional was the man of my most secretive fantasies. Our commander had sent us to Spaceport Mercy based on a tip from some inside source, and since we’d arrived we’d done nothing but follow false leads and dodge Port security.

  Passing ourselves off as salvagers meant Fraz and I fit right in with the spaceport’s scum and villainy, but something about us seemed to put Commander Kassandra Scott on edge. I personally blamed Fraz. He’d picked a fight with the head bouncer at The Steam, he’d insulted the little spaceport’s reporter, Itia Something-or-other, he’d punched one of the Echo brothers—the angriest one, I think—and kept kicking at every member of the Felinia race he encountered.

  I have pointed out Bo’aas are unsavory bastards, haven’t I? And that I’m glad Fraz is on my side?

  Yep. Just overworked. If the man with the wide shoulders, impressive bulge and unsubtle propositioning skills had tackled me any other time, I would have torn his arms from his body and shoved them so far up his backside he would have needed a flashlight to pick his nails.

  See? I can be unsavory too, when I need to be.

  Stomping into my quarters, I stripped off my clothes, pulled the band from my hair and stepped into my shower cubicle. Fraz could pilot the skip back to Port Mercy on his own. That’s what he got for laughing at me. Oh, and for making me feel embarrassed. I never, ever wanted to hear the words “your musk” come from his mouth again. Eww.

  I activated the water and stood motionless under the icy stream, letting it run over my body, my breasts, between my legs. It licked at me with cold thirst and my nipples pinched tight, something about the wet caress making my heart thump harder.

  I closed my eyes, my hands pressed flat to the metal wall before me. The feel of the water running over the folds of my pussy, the button of my clit, drew a ragged breath from deep within my chest. I pressed my thighs together and the gentle pressure on my clit sent a warm finger of pleasure into my core.

  I whimpered, unable to stop my right hand from leaving the wall and slipping between my wet thighs.

  Mine to fuck. Mine to claim. Mine to—

  I slid the tip of my finger over my clit, hissing at the sharp and eager heat blossoming in my pussy at the contact.

  “Oh.” I pressed my finger harder and, before I knew what I was thinking, an image of the man from the moon—Torr—filled my head.

  My body reacted. Instantly and powerfully.

  My pussy clenched viciously, gripping a cock that wasn’t there. My nipples grew harder, so hard they ached, and I knew, deep down inside where my unspoken fantasies lie waiting for night, that the only cure for that ache was Torr’s touch. His fingers, his lips
, his tongue, his teeth.

  I turned in the small cubicle. Leaned against the icy metal wall and closed my left hand over my left breast. But it was his hand I felt. His hand I hungered for. Eyes closed, lips parted, my body hot and flushed despite the chilly temperature of the shower, I let my mind tell me it was Torr’s hand massaging my breast. Torr’s fingers rolling over my clit…

  He sank his fingers deeper into my sex and I moaned, grinding my clit against his exquisite invasion. He dipped in another finger, wriggling them both inside me, stroking the spot that turned my ragged breaths to shallow panting.

  He pulled at my nipple, tweaked it, dragged his thumb over its distended tip, and I moaned again, thrusting my hips higher. Gods! Why was I doing this?

  Mine to fuck. Mine to claim. Mine to—

  The memory of his thought pushed me higher. My pussy squeezed the fingers invading it. Fingers I knew were mine but wanted to be his.

  Mine to fuck.

  I plunged them into my wet heat. Wriggled them. Scissored them.

  Mine to claim.

  I squeezed my breast and tortured my nipple, letting my mind tell me it was him.

  Mine to—

  I rode my hand, mauled my breast and cried out raw words that made no sense when I came, my orgasm as sharp and brutal as the empty longing I felt for a man I believed a lunatic.

  * * * * *

  I stormed through Port Mercy. There’s no other word for it, I’m afraid. I was pissed off and my walk showed it. People leapt out of my way—and by people, I mean humanoids, insectoids, slitheroids, sentient gaseous mistoids and just about any other “oid” you can name. If a species existed in the known galaxies, at least one of its kind was here on Mercy, usually partaking in something criminal and unsavory. Fraz fit right in.

  Speaking of my partner, he strolled along beside me, baring his teeth at the fake Slessorian whores who lined Blowjob Alley, letting everyone see the long Bo’aa blade he wore under his sleeveless jacket, and generally exuding all round menace. People leapt out of Fraz’s way too.

  “You going to tell me yet?” he asked, eyeing one particularly lush Slessorian wannabe who eyed him back.

  I refused to look at him. “No.”

  “Care to explain why you smelled more like sex after your shower, then?”

  I suppressed the urge to scream. And the urge to punch Fraz’s lights out. “Fuck off,” I grunted instead.

  He laughed. People around us cowered away. They usually do.

  We continued making our way through the spaceport, heading for Steam. I needed a drink. God knows what Fraz needed, but I suspected it was another crack at the head bouncer. Sometimes I think Fraz has a death wish. Maybe that was another reason I liked him so much, another reason we suited each other as partners—we were equally unhinged.

  The bar was as crowded as usual, and as usual the crowd parted somewhat as Fraz pushed his way through it. He really did come in handy at times, especially when I wanted something fast—like a shot of Bundaberg Black Label Rum. Drink in hand, I turned and leaned against the bar, running my gaze over the writhing mass crammed into the small space before me. Up on the stage, a Felinia belted out a New Earth tune, swiveling her furry hips in such a provocative way I almost wanted to blush.

  Or fuck.

  I frowned. Now where the hell did that thought come from?

  “The commander’s going to be pissed,” Fraz muttered in my left ear, and I jumped a little. “You can tell him the moon was a big fat waste of time. There’ve been no signs of any spice deals going down.”

  “What happened to rank?” With a small grin, I took a sip of my rum. Shyte, my hand was trembling. What the fuck was my hand doing trembling?

  Storm-cloud eyes flashed through my head, followed by tension in my sex.

  I bit back a curse and sculled my booze.

  The liquor burned its way into my belly and I turned back to the bar, indicating to the woman behind it I wanted another shot. I needed to get a grip. I couldn’t do my job if I was constantly thinking about some maniac who kissed like a demon and—

  My sex constricted in a powerful pulse, so powerful I had to cling to the bar. There and gone in a blink.

  I threw back my head and swallowed my second rum in one mouthful.

  I was in trouble.

  I think I’ve mentioned before I have a no-strings, no-pain rule when it comes to sex. There’s a reason for this. At the tender age of two New Earth years (maybe more, maybe less, no one really knows), I was found cowering on the steps of a sex den on the boundaries of GU space by a Slessorian pleasurer.

  I spent my youth dumped from one crappy Union orphanage to another. I grew up with no sense of belonging, or with any real concept of worth, always yearning for a connection of some kind. So many times, the stupid adolescent girl I became got her stupid adolescent heart broken. From the moment my boobs grew too big to hide, I latched myself onto the biggest, strongest boys I could find, seeking some semblance of strength and protection. Craving the security I was sure I’d find in their arms. Inevitably, they’d convince me that security could be found between their legs.

  Stupid little Raina Mynn, used and abused and laughed at—just a pathetic GU reject with no history, no planet and no clue.

  I got a clue quickly. And yet here I was, getting all hot and horny over a nutjob lurking about on a dead moon on the very reaches of known space? Trouble.

  I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and bit back a growl. The head bouncer—a hulking-great hunk of a man called Corvan Jareth who seemed to exude menace—had caught sight of us. Or more to the point, caught sight of Fraz. Round two was about to begin.

  I pushed away from the bar before Jareth reached us. “I’m outta here.”

  I’m sure you’re wondering why I wasn’t staying to watch my partner’s back, but trust me, Fraz’s back is fine—and nasty. And poisonous. Safety tip? Don’t chase after a Bo’aa unless you want lots of pain.

  I flicked the bouncer a quick look, a tiny part of my mind wondering if Fraz had bitten off more than he could chew this time—Jareth looked positively lethal—and hightailed it out of Steam. I needed to sleep.

  The usual catcalls and promises of sexual heaven accompanied me as I walked back through Blowjob Alley. I tried to keep my stare front and center, but before I knew it I was studying the performances of the hookers, the pit of my belly flip-flopping, my pussy throbbing for a mouth and tongue I’d felt more than once in my dreams.

  Dreams. Shyte. I couldn’t sleep. If I slept, I’d only find myself being dominated again and again by the madman from the moon.

  Stumbling to a halt, I scrunched my face and dragged my hands through my hair. What was I going to do?

  Confront him.

  The way-too alluring thought whispered through my head and my pussy throbbed some more. I felt the crotch of my trousers grow damp and bit back a growl.

  What the fuck was wrong with me? How could I be acting like this? How could one man, one seriously fucked-up man, be affecting me so badly? I don’t care how freakin’ sexy he was, how goddamn gorgeous and intense and powerful, he was not getting under my skin. I’d had enough.

  Running my glare along the length of fake Slessorian, cheap whores and high-priced pleasurers in their individual booths, I found what I was looking for. Stomping up to the naked Urid’ii pro, I fixed him with a flat stare. “Do you do women?”

  Brilliant violet eyes skimmed over me from head to toe and back again and the Urid’ii’s perfect lips curled into a wide smile. “For you, little one,” he said, his voice deeper than thunder. “I do.”

  I swiped my credit chip, not even bothering to ask how much. If needed, I’d pass it off as a work expense. “Make it good,” I snapped, stepping into the Urid’ii’s open booth. “Bloody good.”

  The Urid’ii touched the tip of his tongue to his teeth, a glint of light flickering in his eyes. “Trying to forget someone?”

  I tore open my trousers, uncaring of the entirel
y exposed, public situation. “Shut up and make me come.”

  He grinned, placing his hands on my hips as he lowered himself to his knees. “Yes, little one.” He inched my trousers down, revealing my ass to all and sundry on Blowjob Alley. The cool artificial air chilled my flushed skin and my nipples pinched into hard pebbles, rubbing against the firm rubber of my vest. “I will destroy the memory of the one you wish to forget, so completely you will never think of him again.”

  Oh God, if only that was possible.

  The grim thought whispered through my head a second before the Urid’ii parted my thighs with his hands and plunged his tongue into my folds.

  And a second after that, all I could think about was the man on the moon between my legs, fucking me with his tongue.

  I was so in trouble.

  Chapter Three

  My orgasm smashed through me about ten minutes later. I threw back my head, my blunt, no-nonsense nails digging into the padded side rail of the Urid’ii’s station, and screamed.

  A name.

  I’m pretty certain I don’t have to tell you what name, but let me give you a hint—it wasn’t “Fraz”.

  Fuck.

  And then, just to throw even more insane shit into the mix, the Urid’ii pulled away from my throbbing cunt, gaping up at me like a stunned fish and said, “You are Wyvernian?”

  I looked at the man still kneeling at my feet, the ghost of my orgasm evaporating immediately. “I’m what?”

  “Wyvernian.” His violet eyes flickered with unnerving light and he rose to his feet, staring down into my face.

  “What the fuck is a Wyvernian?” I snarled, yanking up my trousers. Something about the word made my gut tighten.

  The Urid’ii didn’t answer. Instead, he said something even more ludicrous. “You are in your mating cycle.”