by Eve Langlais
“What if I don’t want him to?” She hopped to her knees and crawled to the edge of the bed, forcing him to avert his gaze.
“You don’t want to be married to me.” He was damaged goods. A man promised to another. A cyborg that had no business fucking royalty.
“Actually, I do want you as my husband. I can’t think of a better choice.”
“I’m not a fucking elf. I’m not even human anymore.”
“No, you are cyborg, which makes you strong. And you are special, which is why you were chosen by the nanotech to survive.”
“Obviously a defective batch,” he hastily refuted.
“On the contrary, I think they made the right decision. You are very complex, husband.”
There was that word again. A word that, for some reason, didn’t draw the guilt he expected but rather a deepening hunger.
For his wife.
Not Sky. A woman he’d always love. But his wife here and now.
The one naked on his bed. Begging him to take her.
How could anyone think with such temptation on display? “Put some clothes on.”
“Make me.” She smiled. It was the kind of smile that promised wicked things.
Especially since they both knew he could force her to dress. But it would involve him getting close. The last time they were close he…
Sank into her welcoming heat. Moved inside her, their hearts and minds and even their damned souls—because he still had a fucking soul—moving in time.
What of Sky?
He twisted the ring on his finger. The loose ring.
Not even the one she’d given him, more a symbol of the past he kept trying to hold on to. He knew Ghwenn was right when she said Sky would not have wanted him to live in shadows forever.
“I’m not asking you to love me.” Not yet was the whisper. “But if I am going to die no matter who I marry, then can’t I at least choose who’ll bed me? Can’t I choose pleasure over pain?”
As if he’d let anyone hurt her. He didn’t recall moving, and yet she was in his arms. Her frail form made to fit against him. Her luminous gaze mesmerizing.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you.”
“You can’t promise that.” No one can protect me.
The faint words weren’t meant for pity. He wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear them at all.
He wrapped her tighter against him. He wanted to lie to himself and blame his feelings for her on need. Pure and simple animal instinct to mate. To relieve himself.
What a big, fucking lie.
There was something happening between them. Something he couldn’t deny.
He swept her into his arms. Crushed his mouth to hers, lifted her off the floor that he might plunder the sweet recess of her mouth.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, the most natural thing in the world. The heat of her pulsed against him.
He wanted to take it slow, to take his time.
But she drove him wild. The rake of her nails down his arms as he suckled her breasts, teasing each tip, the nipples finally their natural forest green color.
Everything about her was fresh.
He would have licked her to orgasm again. Planned to, but she wouldn’t let him go down.
The compulsion teased at him. Take me. It didn’t order. It begged. Make me yours. Let me feel you inside me.
The will wasn’t there to resist. The head of him pressed, feeling the moistness of her core. There would be no turning back.
If he did this.
…then she’ll be mine forever.
That sounded just fine to him. He thrust, and her nails dug as she cried out. She arched under him, her body bowing as he invaded her sheath.
He paused, giving her time to adjust. Her breathing went from ragged to soft and measured. The fingers stopped their deadly digging.
She relaxed and murmured, “More.”
That he could do. He stoked her to the edge, letting his lips tug and his tongue lap at her sensitive nipples. He ground himself against her, stretching her channel, shoving deeper into her, not knowing if her kind enjoyed the same thing as a human. But given her increasing cries and the tightening of her sex, he did something she liked.
Her excitement drew his own, and his cock vibrated, pulsing within her channel, forcing her muscles to spasm around him.
Her hips began to rock in time with his, drawing him deeper, urging him on.
When his pleasure came, he gave a shout and spilled. Spilled inside her, and then he collapsed heavily on her body, the scent of her surrounding him. The heat of her flexing like a hot glove around his sated shaft.
It was good. Too good.
And the next time he took her was even better.
The third…
By the next morning Crank was in a foul mood.
He left his new wife, who smiled lazily from bed. He stomped around yelling at people, making a few ensigns cry until Jameson tracked him down and barked, “What the fuck is the matter with you? Would you just screw the woman already?”
“That’s the problem,” Crank snapped. “I did.” He’d had a glorious night. And now when he thought of his wife… It wasn’t a ghost he saw or a memory he craved.
Green eyes filled his mind.
Chapter 16
Ghwenn didn’t understand her husband at all. He appeared so damned miserable. Barking at everyone in his way. Snarling, too. With her, he tried being cold and ignoring.
Which lasted only until she dropped her gown and laid herself bare.
Then he was on her like a hungry beast with a gentle touch, making her body sing. She knew he got pleasure, too, and the more pleasure he enjoyed, the surlier he got until she finally reached a point she was ready to snap. Especially since, every so often, the shield around his emotions dropped and she felt the reason why.
Guilt. He felt guilty for enjoying their time together. Guilt for caring.
He was letting a ghost come between them.
And she didn’t know how to exorcise it.
But she had to do something soon. They were hours from docking at Kluuma and picking up this super important wedding party. They were still accompanied by her father’s fleet. Although now they had more hostages.
The idiots kept sending in envoys. Jameson and crew kept capturing them and then tethering their ships in the Moth’s wake. Why the convoy didn’t leave she couldn’t understand.
She’d made it clear after the consummation that she was no longer available. And once they made it to port and she could access an intergalactic bank, it would be official. She’d be out from under her father’s thumb and an heiress to boot.
With a husband who couldn’t stand to look at her until he was sunk to the hilt.
“Problems?” an accented voice asked.
Whirling from the observation window in the common recreation room, she noted the First Mate’s wife. Michonne, a follower of the Dkar religion, had recently married someone outside her cast, just like Ghwenn. But at least Michonne’s husband didn’t scowl at his wife.
“What’s it like having a husband who is agreeable?”
“You think Damon is agreeable?” Michonne snickered. “Maybe now he is, but not so long ago, he was the one being an ass about marriage.”
“What changed?”
Michonne shrugged. “He finally figured out he was an idiot and came to his senses.”
“I hear when your father took you captive Damon came to your rescue.”
The other woman smiled. “He did.”
“I don’t know if Craig would.” Given their new status, she’d stopped thinking of him by his last name and refused to use that horrible nickname. So she did something unexpected and used his actual given name. He hated it.
“Do you want him to save you?”
“He already did.” Every day he didn’t hand her over he rescued her. What she wanted was for her husband to stop pining over a dead woman and love the one right in front of him.
She must have been
silent too long because Michonne nudged her.
“You just thought of something.”
“Is it possible to love someone who hates you?”
“Crank doesn’t hate you.”
Perhaps not, but he hated the fact that Ghwenn made him forget. Why wouldn’t he let Sky go? How could she remove his guilt once and for all?
What if… She had an idea. “I need to get off this ship.”
“Are you going to make him think you’ve been kidnapped so he rescues you and declares his love? Because that was already done, and I’d rather not share that story.” Michonne gave her a look.
“No, because, knowing Craig, he’d let me go and then be even more miserable convincing himself it was the right thing to do.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“Make him miss me.” Show him what it was like without her.
Which could backfire, but at the same time, it was past time she stopped allowing herself to be used, and that included by her husband.
“What are you going to do?” Michonne asked. “Because that’s a devious look in your eyes.”
Which matched the devious plan in her heart.
And she hatched it the moment they hit the planet.
She kidnapped herself.
Chapter 17
“What do you mean she’s gone?” Crank frowned at Zane. He’d sent the ensign to fetch Ghwenn from their room.
The ship had just docked, and the captain left to meet with their next client.
After much haggling, they’d just released the elves, with them promising to leave Ghwenn and the Moth alone. In return, the captain of the emerald ship parted with some of their precious maple syrup. An Earth commodity known as liquid gold. Bribery was alive and well in the galaxy.
But that didn’t mean his pixie was safe.
“Sorry, Chief, er, sir, er…”
“Where the fuck is Ghwenn?” Crank barked. He tapped at his wrist, opening a communication channel. “Solanz, I need a location on my wife.”
“Sorry, but her signal is not available at this time, Chief.”
The words sent a cold spell through him. “Zane, where are the Driadalys ships?”
“They left, sir.”
“When?” And when had Ghwenn last been seen?
No one could say for sure. The cameras last recorded her in his room. Sitting on the bed. Prim and perfectly attired. So unlike how she looked when in his arms with her lips passion swollen and her hair tousled.
There one moment, gone the next.
Impossible. Yet no matter how many times he re-ran the videos, the same thing appeared, which was to say nothing.
A sane man would have said good riddance. After all, he’d never wanted another wife. Never wanted to have the shell he’d built cracked. Never wanted to feel love again.
In the midst of pacing, he froze.
But the word still vibrated within.
Love.
Oh, fucking hell. I fell in love with her.
How had that happened? How could it happen?
Because…Ghwenn was amazing. Strong. Snooty. Vulnerable. Combative. Funny. Sexy.
And he’d been an asshole to her.
Because I love her. And it made him feel guilty. So he hurt her. Hurt the woman he loved, which was wrong.
Fuck. He was such a moron because it hit him then. Loving Ghwenn didn’t mean he stopped loving Sky. He’d always love her. But the living couldn’t be with the dead.
The realization shouldn’t have been so shocking. But it was. Because Ghwenn was alive and gone and he needed her. Needed her back right now.
“Solanz, I need you to scan every single camera in that port. We have to find my wife.” Who could be on an elf ship heading for home, and yet… This was just the kind of stunt he could see her pulling to force an epiphany.
Damn her. He’d shake her when he found her. Then kiss her. Then maybe shake her some more.
But how to find her?
There seemed to be no visual trail to follow. Not a hint.
He exited the ship and stood by the large bay doors as cargo was shuttled in for the wedding party. Big-ass fucking crates.
Had she hidden inside?
He pivoted to look, and yet something tugged him another way. Back toward the hangar. He passed by the ground crew busy schlepping around merchandise. He stalked through into the next warehouse. A quieter one, and yet this was where he needed to be. He could feel it.
He treaded lightly and found her. Sitting on a box. Legs tucked and hands clasped together.
“You ran away,” he announced as he neared. Since the revelation of her lineage, she’d gone back to her natural colors. The dye in her hair was completely gone, the chopped ends curling a bit. The bright green strands framed her face as she tilted it.
Her green gaze met his. “I was giving you a choice.”
“A choice to what?” he asked.
“Be with your ghost.”
“A ghost doesn’t keep my dick warm at night.”
“There are appliances you can buy to rectify that.”
“Don’t need to buy shit. I’ve got a wife.”
“That you never wanted.”
“Maybe I changed my mind. Come home with me, pixie.”
“I think I’m going to lose the contents of my stomach.” The harshly spoken words emerged from behind him, and before Crank could whirl, they hit with force. Don’t move, machine man.
His muscles froze.
“Father.” Ghwenn’s voice held aloof disdain. “What an unpleasant surprise. I thought you’d be planning your next wedding.”
“Already in process.”
“And yet you still found time to come after me?”
“It’s not too late. Your trespasses will be forgiven if you return at once.”
“Kind of you to offer, but unnecessary. I have a husband.”
Crank’s frozen mouth couldn’t even form the words, fucking right she does. How emasculating.
“Husband?” There was clear sneering in the words. “Worse than a human, you chose a cyborg to sully your body.”
“He’s a good man.”
“He’s a biological host for a parasite. Hardly fit for a princess. Which is why I’ll be doing you a favor when I kill him.”
“No need. I’ll come peacefully.” She stood. “He doesn’t want me.”
Say what? Crank could only ogle as his pixie moved to leave with her father.
What was she thinking?
You’ll soon be free, Craig.
But he didn’t want to be free. He’d come to find her to explain that he loved her. But now this douche nozzle was getting in the way.
Taking away his wife.
The first time that happened, he was powerless to prevent it.
This time…he refused to allow it.
He twitched a finger. The compulsion hummed in him. Don’t move.
Another muscle spasmed. A shudder went through his body. And he snapped.
Ghwenn had reached her father, a man with a triumphant sneer on his face.
“Don’t you dare take my wife!” Crank roared and charged. Ended up going right through the hologram.
Staggering, he regained his balance and whirled to see Ghwenn smirking.
“He wasn’t real,” Crank stated.
She shook her head.
“This was all fake!” His voice rose.
She nodded.
“But the voice that froze me…” He’d been paralyzed.
“That was all you. Your bots that is. They helped.”
His own nanotech betrayed him? “Why?” he growled.
“Because we were both tired of waiting for you to realize you loved me.”
“Definitely don’t like you after that stunt,” he muttered, his brows drawn together in a frown.
“You were going to save me.”
“Of course I was fucking was.”
“Because…” she prodded.
“Because I fucking lo
ve your annoying little ass. Happy now? I tried to make sure you couldn’t weasel your way in. Tried to stay in my deep wallow, but you just had to squirm your way in.”
Her lips parted in a smile. “Was that so hard to admit?”
“Yes.”
She approached him. “Poor cyborg.”
“I can’t believe my bots plotted against me.”
“They tried to fix you, but in case you hadn’t noticed, you’re pretty stubborn.”
“Just a tad.”
“But so am I.” She wrapped her arms around him. “It’s why we make such a perfect pair.”
“I ain’t giving up my spot on the Moth just because you’re a princess.”
“I never asked you to. I am, however, renouncing my position as part of my father’s court.”
“You can quit?” he queried.
“Of a sort. I’ve taken steps to ensure my father will not bother us or your ship.”
“You’d give up being a princess for me?” He couldn’t stop his incredulity.
“Being a princess isn’t as fun as it sounds.”
“But what about your wealth?”
“For a man with the smarts of a machine, you’re awfully dense at times. I’d give up anything for your love.”
“But I thought elves didn’t believe in it.”
“I didn’t until I became a certain cyborg’s bride. I love you, Craig Abrams.”
And for once he didn’t have a grumpy retort. A hard cock, yes. A need for this woman, even more. He crushed her to him, his mouth seeking hers for a hot embrace. His hands tugged at her skirts, pulling them up that he might sink himself into her.
It didn’t take him long to find his pleasure, and her right there with him, whispering, Love you forever.
Which, given their lifespan, could be a long time.
The ensign, however, that chose to interrupt them—“I found the chief and his wife.”—would probably die.
Later.
He had some more apologizing to do first.
Epilogue
It was only when they were in their room a few hours later that her husband finally asked, “How does a princess resign? Isn’t it like your birthright?”
“Royalty is decided by the purity of the bloodlines. And I am no longer pure.”