It was lighter in the room when he opened his eyes, and the way her gaze fixed on him indicated she could see him. “My training forms. Helps me regain my balance, hone my body in preparation to fight.”
Slowly, she rose to her feet. Her beautiful clothes were in tatters, and clean streaks reminded him of her recent tears. “Teach me.”
“What?” He stopped mid-form and stood, facing her.
“I’m sick of being useless. The women on this planet are supposed to be strong, capable. Teach me how to live up to their expectations. I want to fight by your side, not be a damn liability that slows you down.”
It took a moment for him to realize his mouth was hanging open. Sincerity flashed in her eyes, her willingness to let him teach her to fight radiating from her posture. She was determined.
She took his breath away.
“I don’t know how long we have,” he rasped.
She moved into a stance mimicking his own. “Then we’d better get started.”
Every muscle in Alison’s body was limp from fatigue. How sad was it that Fenton came off of a week of illness and he was still in better shape than her? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d worked so hard at anything. Probably never.
But she had to admit, her body felt better for the exertion. When the patroller opened the door to deliver the tray with their morning meal, she nearly collapsed in exhaustion.
She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “You two reek.”
“And you’re observant,” Alison said with false sweetness. “How about you ask if we can shower at some point?” The waste receptacle in the small room had no chemical foam. She’d made do with a bucket, unwilling to risk Gwella’s wrath. After a week she’d grown used to the smell. Who’d have thought?
“It’d be a public service. Of course, your stench might slow the helcats down, so maybe you want to go on stinking.”
“Get yourself kidnapped and come back with some new insults. I’ve heard them all.”
The door banged behind the patroller, and Alison caught Fenton eyeing her. “What?”
“You did well with the forms,” he murmured after the patroller left. “Most people don’t have your focus.”
“I’m highly motivated.” She gratefully took the cup of water he extended to her.
Fenton eyed her as he drank from his own cup. “How long since you last slept?”
She’d been napping spooned up against him every night, sharing her warmth right after she sponge-bathed him as best she could by using her underwear and cold water from the bucket. They had no blankets, no creature comforts at all. If not for the meals delivered regularly, she’d think Gwella wanted them to rot down here. The only reason she was still sane was because she’d focused all of her attention on seeing Del through his sickness.
Now he was awake and she had a new task. Operation Learn to Kick Some Ass.
Fenton eyed the soup. “Doesn’t seem like enough for two.”
“It’s really not. You have it, you need to regain your strength.” Her stomach rumbled as though staging a protest.
He blinked. “You’ve been feeding it all to me, haven’t you?”
Glancing away, she picked at a tear on her grubby pants. “Not all.” She’d had a spoonful or two, just enough to make sure she could keep on tending him until he was well enough to look after himself.
“Why?”
“You were sick, you needed the nutrition.”
Shoving the bowl at her, he gritted, “Eat all of this.”
One look at his face and she knew better than to protest. The soup was bitter, but at least it was hot. She ate about half, then tried to hand it to him. He looked from her to the bowl and back again, glaring.
“I’ll dump it out,” she threatened.
“I’ll force it down your throat,” he snarled right back.
A jolt of lust went right through her, like she’d been struck by lightning. He’d defend her, even against herself. He was probably still angry with her about landing them here in the first place, yet he took care of her, sacrificed for her.
Was there anything sexier?
She finished the soup and set the bowl by the door.
“You should try to rest some more. We both should.” Fenton scratched at the stubble that grew in around his scar, giving him an even more sinister mien. His hair had grown shaggy since she’d first spotted him, but his shoulders still squared off with military precision. Alison had been with her share of handsome men, but there was just more about Del Fenton. More virile, more rugged, and untamable.
Her face heated and she tore her focus from him. What was her major malfunction? Nothing should turn on her libido when she looked and smelled the way she did.
They took turns using the bathroom, washing up as best they could. Alison went first, scrubbing at the grime until her skin turned red. The water was cold and she was shivering by the time she was done but at least her skin felt clean.
Though she shifted around it was impossible to get comfortable on the icy stone floor. She missed her man-sized pillow and the heat that radiated from him like the sun. If she asked him she knew he’d hold her again, but she didn’t want to force him to curl up with her if he hated her, simply out of pity.
“Is your feminine flow over?” Fenton asked from the doorway.
“Yesterday. I couldn’t take the device out, though.” And she hadn’t been about to ask the bitchy patroller to help with that.
He waited, standing to the side of the doorway. It was too dark for her to read his features but his posture looked rigid and his unswerving gaze pinned her in place. “What?”
“I’m waiting for you to ask me to help you.”
Hell no. He’d have to pin her down and rip her pants off. Which could be fun but not for the purpose he was intending. She tried to wave it off. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
Moving closer, he stood directly above her, so she had to crane her neck to look at him. Always considerate, he crouched before her and stared her down. “Those devices were designed the way they were purposefully. So that every female of age had a safeguard, a way to let the breeders around her know she was sexually unavailable. If one was inserted by another’s hand it has to be removed by them as well. And it does have to be removed. So again, I’m waiting.”
Her lip trembled and she sank her teeth into it to steady it while gathering her thoughts. Neon-blue eyes consumed her, sped her heart until it raced. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to do anything for me. I know you must hate me, that it’s probably pure torture for you to be locked up in here with me after what I did. Honestly, Del, I hate myself for endangering Ari and landing us into this mess. If I had the option to get away from myself, I would take it.”
“Alison,” he breathed, crouching down until their eyes met. Tight lines formed between his eyebrows, the smallest show of concern on his otherwise implacable façade. His eyes, though, were always the first to heat. Or maybe they never stopped burning with his deeply guarded passions. His arms reached for her. “Come here.”
Stepping into his embrace was the most natural thing in the world to her. He held her head against his chest and she listened to the steady thrumming of his heartbeat.
He didn’t say anything, just cradled her. Slowly her shoulders lost their tension, relaxing into the heat of him. She might have fallen asleep, even standing up if he didn’t sink to his knees before her.
She sucked in a breath when he hooked his thumbs around her waistband. How had she forgotten his intention?
But she did want that thing removed from her body, and if he knew how to do it, had volunteered for the task, she would ignore her mental discomfort.
Cool air caressing her bare flesh made her shiver as he pulled her pants off. Running his hands up over her legs left a trail of heat to combat the chill. He always seemed to know exactly what she needed, and deliver it unflinchingly. How could he be so altruistic?
“I’m really not,” he murmured, his gaze fixed
at the juncture of her legs. “In fact, right now I’m feeling very selfish.”
With a start she realized she’d asked the question aloud. The way he skimmed his hands over the backs of her thighs made her sigh. He inhaled deeply, as though filling his lungs with her woman’s scent, and a masculine growl escaped.
From the possessive way he gripped her ass, Alison knew what he was thinking. He was a man with his face inches away from a woman’s bared sex. He might be coming off of a week of illness but that only meant he’d be more driven for sex.
But she didn’t want to be his warm woman’s body, damn it. She wanted him to want her, not sex. “Just take it out quickly, please. It’s cold in here.”
Nuzzling her mound he rasped, “I could warm you up.”
“No.” Squeezing her eyes shut, she shook her head. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“As you wish.” Blunt fingers probed the entrance to her body, deftly separating her folds. He tried to insert a finger but barely got the tip inside. “You have to relax, lovely.”
“I’m trying,” she said through gritted teeth.
He withdrew and looked up at her. “Alison, look at me.”
Sinking her teeth into her lower lip, she shook her head. She was such a wreck; she wanted him so badly, but at the same time she didn’t want him to want her back if he only wanted a quick nail and bail.
“If you don’t look at me, I’m going to bury my face in your cunt and lick you within an inch of your life.”
Her eyes flew open.
“Better. Now, what’s going through your mind? I’ve never seen you so tense.”
All of her anxiety bubbled up. “I’m scared to death we’ll die in here. Or that Gwella will exile us and we’ll be the appetizers, or that the helcats will break through and kill everyone, or that the only reason you’re doing this is because you’re still stuck with me and I’d give you some space if I had any to give—”
“The hell with it,” he growled and gripped her ass, pulling her toward his face.
22
“Del,” Alison gasped as he traced the seam of her body with his tongue.
He loved the way she said his name, his first name, especially on a breathy exhale as she shivered with need. Talking to her was getting him nowhere. They both wanted this, needed a physical release. Why she fought him on it was a mystery.
Her hands threaded through his hair as he licked her deeper, more insistently. She could talk all she wanted, but his course was set. He’d make her come until she started making sense.
“Stop, don’t do this.” Even as she spoke, her hips bucked forward, urging him on.
What was with the token protests? He wanted her wanton and wild, the way he knew she could be, full of sexual confidence and totally without inhibitions. This game playing wasn’t like her. Pulling back a bit he stared at her flushed face. “Really?”
Her eyes were bright, her cheeks pink, her lips parted in desire. She didn’t pull away and he took advantage of her inner turmoil like the shameless bastard he was.
Using his thumbs to part her labia, he thrashed her clit with his tongue. Her back arched, her hands fisting in his hair. He eased off, but only slightly, elongating his strokes to cover more wet feminine flesh. Damn, but she tasted good, sweet with a heady woman’s musk that made his head spin. He wanted to spread her out and feast on her pussy like a starving man given a last meal. Every puffy pink bit of flesh a delicacy to be savored.
Wetness spilled from her tight channel, a fresh gush of lube to ease his way.
“Please,” she whimpered when he stroked into her body with his index finger. He didn’t know what she was asking for, but he was on a mission. She made no sounds of pain, only desperate pleasure. Later they would address her numerous worries, after he made her come.
Her channel softened, elongated as her arousal increased, but was still a tight fit. Removing his hands, he cupped the fleshy globes of her ass cheeks, holding her in the perfect position. Stabbing his tongue deep into her well, he tasted the exotic flavors of her body at its source, no perfumes or chemicals, just pure Alison. His dick throbbed, demanding its own taste but he ignored it.
Nails bit into his scalp, a sweet stab of pain that told him she was getting close. Zigzagging a path over her vulva, he moved upward, toward that greedy little bundle of nerves that beckoned him even closer. Tracing one hand down her crease, he moved his fingers back to her feminine opening, but didn’t enter. He wanted to let the anticipation build just a little longer.
Her body trembled in his hold, poised on the edge. He licked all around her clitoral hood, careful not to make contact. The bud seemed to swell, as though reaching for him, yearning for contact.
“Please,” she begged again as he massaged the swollen tissues, teasing her body shamelessly.
He caught her gaze, held it as his lips closed over her tender nub, sucking it into his mouth. She bucked and he saw it there, the rapture sweeping across her features as his fingers drove deeply into her. Vaginal muscles milked them and she cried out as wave after wave of release crashed over her until she sagged against him, totally spent.
He let go of her clit, but his fingers kept going until they bumped into the device nestled against her womb. Pinning it between two fingers, he pulled it slowly from her quaking channel, now lax from her powerful orgasm.
Setting it aside, he held her steady while pulling her pants back up. It was one thing to pleasure her against her will to help her, another entirely to force himself on her if she didn’t want him.
She blinked at him, lines forming between her drawn eyebrows when he moved away from her. His balls ached with the need for release. Wiping sweat off his forehead, he caught a whiff of her scent. Her sweet lube still coated his taste buds. His cock was rock-hard and ready to explode. Gritting his molars, he fought the urge to phase split and take care of himself.
Soft hands caressed his face. “Are you all right?”
Fenton couldn’t answer without snapping at her. He closed his eyes so he didn’t have to look at her, but it didn’t help with her sweet feminine aroma surrounding him, driving him to the edge of his control.
You are more than the sum total of your urges. Think of Ari, of escape, anything else but driving into her.
That proved impossible when her hand gripped his cock through the fabric of his pants. “Let me ease you.”
He wanted to jerk away, but found himself thrusting into her hold. “No.”
A smile curved her lips. “And how far did that get me?”
“It was the only way—” he protested, not wanting her to think he was ignoring her wishes.
Her free hand settled over his lips. “Helping me made you like this. Let me return the favor.”
“It’s not a—” The protest broke off on a ragged groan when she freed his throbbing shaft from his pants and lowered her face until her soft breaths fell on his sensitive crown.
“Tell me what you want,” she whispered. “You look ready to explode.”
His hands fisted in her hair. “No teasing. Take me deep.”
No sooner had the words left his mouth than hers engulfed his shaft in a warm, wet stroke. A hoarse noise escaped and he thrust up, unable to control his baser urges when they were so close to the surface. It took all his energy not to phase split and hold her in place so he could fuck her face.
Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked him deep into her wet heat, her eyes closed as she concentrated on the task. More sweat popped out over his skin. He was burning up, ready to blow, fighting the urge.
“It’s okay,” she whispered, her soft exhale tickling his wet shaft. “Do what you need to, I can take it.” She took it in again until the head of his shaft hit the back of her throat.
Her permission broke the yoke of his control. With a bellow he snapped his hips back and thrust forward, losing himself in the wet cavern of her mouth. Again and again, completely untamed, wild in his drive for release. She took it all, relaxing her throat
when he surged deep, sucking him on the withdrawal. Her eyes shone with satisfaction and trust as she watched him use her mercilessly.
He came with a guttural roar, spilling down her throat, emptying himself until all that was left were the aftershocks, every cell in his body twitching and shuddering.
She slid him from between her lips, refastened his pants. He wanted to thank her but speaking was too much effort. Still, he slid down until he lay flat on his back, uncaring that the floor was cold and hard beneath him when he had a warm Alison draped over him.
His eyelids felt heavy but lifted when she tried to move. “Stay here.”
“You need sleep. You’re still recovering.”
He’d sleep better knowing he cushioned her, warmed her, and kept her safely nestled against him. Too many words to string together. “Stay here,” he muttered again.
With a heavy sigh she did, relaxing into him, covering him like a living blanket.
He smiled and the words popped out. “Love you.”
Oblivion claimed him.
Love you. Alison had been drifting off when Del sighed those words and then passed out with no consideration of the devastation his half-conscious declaration had wrought. Damn him, she wanted to knee him in the groin and make him explain himself.
Did he mean that? She wanted to believe him so desperately it shocked her. Yes, she cared for him, knew he cared for her. Judging by his determination to help her regardless of his own discomfort, she assumed he still did. But love was another star system altogether. Something more permanent, more life-changing than simple caring. There was commitment and acceptance implied with such an avowal and she craved both from him. When had that happened?
Probably when I fell in love with him too.
She rolled her eyes at herself. The assassin was still tracking her, starving mutant beasts were bearing down on them looking for their next meal, Ari was in the hands of pissed-off feminists with a grudge against them, and here she was worried whether Del meant it when he said he loved her.
I am such a girl.
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