by Kiersten Fay
He studied her for a moment. She was acting as though it made no difference if he agreed to sparring with her or not, but a quick scan told him how badly she was in need. If he remembered correctly, demons required one of two things to stabilize their temperaments. Was she asking for one, while wishing for the other?
In an offhanded tone, she asked, “What do you want?”
“I want to be free to run the pub how I want, without you or your minions checking on me.”
“My pub has rules. You would still have to follow them.”
“How ever I want,” he repeated.
Sonya glanced around, probably wondering what he had in mind.
“One week,” she offered.
The fact she had agreed at all showed how desperate she was.
Looking thoughtful, he added, “And I want you to be nicer to me. That means saying things like please and thank you, and not threatening to kill me every other day.”
Sonya opened her mouth to argue, and then closed it. “Fine, for one week also.”
“We have a deal then. I’ll meet you there after I close tonight.”
“No. Now,” she insisted, looking a little panicked.
“Who will watch the—”
Sonya turned to the room and bellowed, “Everyone get out! We’re closed!”
* * *
Sonya stepped onto the mat. Her skin sizzled with a familiar itch and something inside was screaming to break free.
The entire way to the sparring chamber, Ethan had walked quietly at her side.
How could even his silence sound arrogant?
He’d been watching her, though. Peeking at her from the corner of his eye. She thought he looked pleased, and she assumed he was as eager for her blood as she was for his. But it wouldn’t be her who shed it.
Taking his place on the mat across from her, he broke the silence. “So you finally have me alone, what will you do with me?”
She pointed to the array of weapons lining the walls. “Pick your poison.” She was hoping for something sharp and pointy.
His gaze traveled the selection. “I don’t care for poison. Gives me indigestion.”
“Fine with me. I love a good brawl.”
And to prove her point, she leapt to attack. She put her full force into her right hook, but at the last second he dodged, throwing her off balance. She realized her mistake too late.
He placed himself at her back, grasped her forearms, and pulled her against him to whisper in her ear. “I know what’s going on here.”
Her eyes went wide. She slammed her elbow into his stomach. His grip loosened as he huffed out a breath. Pushing away from him, she twisted around and brought her heel up for a high kick.
Again he dodged, and then began circling her with an infuriatingly sexy curve to his lips. Just as she expected the Edge to take over, something else began to happen within her.
“You don’t know shit, pirate!” She lashed out again with a succession of jabs and a heel-kick that missed the mark. Furious, she dropped to the floor, swinging her leg wide. A backward flip had her on her feet in the next instant. He evaded her every attempt like a master.
Even with Cale she could land a hit! She lunged again, determined to find flesh with eager knuckles. Then she noticed he wasn’t countering. In fact, he wasn’t attacking in any way.
“Fight me!”
Bouncing around her, he replied, “Just reading your style, Sweetheart.” He smiled.
“Read this!” Now that she was used to his avoidance, she attacked using a wide kick as a diversion, and then wrapped her tail around his wrist to pull him off center.
Her fist connected with his jaw.
Satisfaction filled her as his eyes bulged with the contact. She brought her leg up, but before her knee could find his ribs, he twisted his body away from her.
She reared back for another strike, but he swiped her feet out from under her and had her on her back.
His chest pressed on top of her as he held her still. “Is this fighting really what you want? When we could be doing something much more fun?”
Sonya shifted his weight and pushed him over, reversing their positions. She realized he went a little too easily, and she was now straddling him. Heat pooled at her center, causing her to hesitate. Ethan’s irises sparkled with delight, as though he knew the struggle raging inside her.
Determined to keep on track, she pulled out one of the small knives she always kept concealed in a pocket at her side. Knowing how much it would anger him, she used it to pluck free one of the gold pieces decorating his coat.
Ethan grabbed her wrist as the button of his coat flew off. She smirked, and he realized she was only trying to goad him. He knew the battle they were engaged in now was not the only one begin fought. What he didn’t know was why she was resisting her natural urges. Did the prospect of being with him, if only for release, disgust her so much?
Perhaps he merely needed to persuade her to feel differently.
“You’re playing dirty,” he murmured.
“There’s no other way.”
“Agreed.” He reached behind him to unlatch a blade hidden within his coat. In one smooth upward motion, he sliced through the ties of her bodice.
She gasped as the garment slipped open and rushed to cover herself.
Ethan pushed her back to the mat and pinned her arms beside her head. Her torn garment parted slightly with every breath she took.
Ethan locked eyes with her. “I don’t think fighting is what you need.”
She shook her head, but otherwise did not comment. Large violet eyes were transfixed on his lips, contradicting her weak protest.
“Wouldn’t you rather I be touching you?” He moved to caress the soft cord of her neck with his mouth. “Tasting you?”
She shuddered. He almost cried out in triumph as he sensed her will becoming his, any trace of resistance now locked away in the deep recess of her mind. He followed the line of her jaw with his mouth, tasting as he went, until his lips hovered against hers.
She whimpered, her inner turmoil flaring up once more.
Disheartened, he pulled back to gaze into her eyes. Her lids were heavy, wanton, yet fierce, with wavering confusion pooled below the surface. For a moment, he was unsure if she truly wanted this. Was he a cad for playing on her vulnerabilities?
He almost pulled away completely, but before he did, she let out a groan of defeat that called directly to his shaft.
“Damn you,” she whispered before pressing her lips to his in a vicious kiss.
Overwhelmed by her sudden demanding need, he blocked his magic and batted away the ruined material of her corset. He palmed her breast. She moaned, making him want to hear more. When he moved to swirl his tongue around one taut peak, she barely stifled a cry of surprise, followed by a river of sweet mewls.
With a new destination in mind, he allowed his hand to skim down her belly, enjoying the shiver that raked over her body. He slid his hand under the hem of her skirt and lazily played there, teasing the soft flesh of her thighs at her apex.
The little moans she made threatened to drive him mad, and all he wanted was to bury himself inside her till they were both panting with satisfaction, but he forced himself to go slow. She would think of him differently after this, and he’d be sure she was unable to keep from grinning when she did.
He pushed aside the thin fabric of her panties to glide a finger over her sex, overjoyed to find how wet she had become. Her body jerked, and her cheeks flushed furiously.
He explored her tender folds, watching with amusement as her breath quickened. The beginnings of her orgasm hit. He continued to stroke her as he dipped his head to lavish attention on her rosy nipples.
When her panting grew dire, he lifted his head to watch as she lost control.
A moan ripped from her lungs as her body arched and an explosion of pleasure crashed over her.
As the vibrating waves began to dim, she looked up at Ethan and understood the hunge
r in his eyes. He pushed to his knees and tore off his coat. Next came his shirt, while she sat up to undo the buckle of his pants, where his bulge strained against the fabric.
“Finally, I can get you out of my head,” he grated, reaching for her panties and practically ripping them off her.
She didn’t know what that meant, but his guttural tone sent chills through her. The sight of his thick erection made her body pulse for a replay of the insane pleasure he had forced from her.
He grabbed a hold of her thighs and dragged her lower half toward him, planting her back on the ground. Then in one smooth motion, he kissed her hard just as he shoved into her body.
Sonya cried out from the shock of pain.
With his lips still on hers, Ethan froze and opened his eyes. They grew wide while hers burned with unshed tears.
He yanked his head back to study her, his shaft sliding free. Even before he looked down in horror, she knew he would find blood where they had been connected only seconds ago.
“Fuck!” He pulled up his pants and had them zipped and buckled in no time, then retrieved his shirt and coat before heading for the door. “How could you not have told me!”
His anger fueled her own, but her throat was too tight to respond. She could only glare at him through blurry eyes.
Just before he disappeared, he muttered, “I’m so fucking dead.”
A wretched tear streamed down her cheek. There had only been one other time in her life when she had cried, and Ethan would forever remind her of both.
Chapter 15
The sound of Sonya’s pained whimper tormented Ethan over the next few days. The last thing he had wanted was to hurt her.
A fresh stream of guilt carved a gully in his stomach.
All he’d wanted was to alter her view of him, soften her aversion, and maybe, selfishly, end his growing obsession with her at the same time. Ironically, the first part of his goal had been accomplished, but not in the way he’d intended. The only thing he’d managed to do was solidify her hatred of him, a hatred that now had a valid foundation.
Aside from raking his mind, trying to figure out how it was possible she had never known a male’s touch, he couldn’t help but worry what her brothers were going to do to him once they learned of his offense.
His only hope was that Sebastian and Cale might go easy on him for Anya’s sake. He’d been indirectly responsible for bringing Sebastian and Anya together, after all. Surely that counted for something…. Hopefully a stay of execution.
He’d contemplated going to Sonya and begging her to keep quiet, or at the very least, play it down. Knowing her, she would take full advantage of his desperate situation. That’s what he told himself, anyway. He suspected the true reason he had yet to approach her was due to an uncharacteristic bout of cowardice.
As deplorable as he felt, he feared seeing if the hurt and betrayal that had been visible behind her eyes was still there.
A part of him was surprised she hadn’t sought him out, if only to rail at him or demand retribution. Or to finish the fight she had started before he had practically forced himself on her. He would not argue if she did, nor would he fight back. He’d take all the rage she could dole out with silent acceptance. She might label him a nefarious pirate, but he did have some honor.
In a desperate attempt to take his mind off the situation, he tried once again to translate more of the book. Before he knew it, he had spent hours flipping through pages, checking his notes, only to toss away the wasted effort and start over again with not a sliver of progress.
Frustration mounting, he let out a bellow. When that did nothing to diminish his aggravation, he ripped the book from the desk and hurled it across the room.
The book hit the wall with a soft thud, then toppled in a flurry of fumbling pages before slamming closed on the ground.
He cursed, leaning over the desk and digging his fingers into his hair.
It was now clear to him that the code provided by his king was not enough to finish the translation. Maybe Ethan had missed a key element in the instructions. Either that, or the king had become mad toward the end, resulting in nonsensical gibberish.
Ethan had been suspecting the latter since his last counsel with the king’s ghostly projection. The king had looked withered, his eyes distant and confused. Evan at the time, Ethan hadn’t been sure if the king knew where he was or how he had come to be there. When his empty gaze had landed on Ethan, a hint of recollection sparked, but only for a brief moment. The words he had mouthed next seemed equally odd. “Restore, enhance, sacrifice, sustain. This you must do.”
Then the apparition had vanished, leaving Ethan with nothing more than a riddle. He speculated that he was to restore the sisters by bringing them home and possibly enhance their magic through training. He didn’t want to mull over what sacrifice might mean, and the last, sustain, was just confusing.
Leaving the book where it landed, he headed to the tavern. To anyone else, it might seem as though Sonya had left him in full control, but he knew the reason for her absence. She wanted to avoid him so badly that she would abandon her beloved establishment to the likes of him.
Any other time he would have loved the freedom, but now it was nothing more than a constant reminder of a shameful act that needed to be rectified.
* * *
Sonya sank back into the captain’s chair with a relieved sigh when the transmission came through that Sebastian and Anya were safe and headed for Marada. Yet it also caused a sickly feeling in the pit of her stomach. Once on board, Sebastian would again take over as captain, and she would go back to work in The Demon’s Punchbowl...alongside Ethan.
She’d been successful in avoiding him since the incident and did not relish the idea of facing him so soon. She’d never been one to avoid confrontation. The fact that she recoiled from the idea of approaching Ethan grated on every level.
Especially when there was no need for it.
Their encounter in the training room wasn’t that big of a deal, anyway. Silly, in fact, when she really thought about it.
Though her brothers might not think so.
And Ethan would be so worried about their discovery of his less than honorable conduct, he would mostly likely do anything she ordered. The idea didn’t give her as much pleasure as it should. Moreover, merely inviting the image of him into her mind caused her blood to fire…with hunger.
She shivered.
Everything in her came to life when she recalled the beginning of their battle, his easy evasion from her formidable skills. Why that should cause her veins to quicken with a rush of desire, she could not say, but it grew worse as she called to mind the intimate portion of their conflict. Her skin grew heated at the reminder of his touch and the intense ecstasy that had scored her body all the way to bone, and deeper still.
She had been too far lost to warn him of her inexperience. Mindless, in fact. The initial pain had been surprising, but easily ignored, her hunger for more overruling.
But then he had rushed out of there like she was some sort of diseased pile of space junk. The affront sizzled still, burning away every trace of desire.
She lifted her chin, resolved not to let anyone see what an emotional mess she had become.
Aidan called across the bridge. “The shuttle is docking, Captain.”
“Good. Keep us in orbit until further instructions. I’ll go and greet them.”
“Huh.” Aidan’s tone was baffled.
She paused. “What is it, Aidan?”
“There are five life-forces on board.”
“Five?” Had they picked up a stray? A dark thought filtered into her mind. Could they have been hijacked? “Are there any other ships in the area?”
“No, Captain.”
That meant little; pirates survived by the prowess of their stealth.
“Run a physical analysis. Are they calm?”
“No, I’m reading three elevated heart rates and traces of blood.”
“Shit. I’m
heading to the docking bay. If you detect conflict, seal off the area and alert the crew.”
On her way, she stopped to gather weapons from the weapons locker. Because many projectile weapons could be detrimental to a hull, they were generally outlawed on most civilized ships.
However, Sonya had managed to convince Sebastian to stock a few of the safer energy based weapons. The one she was currently strapping to her waist—and had been dying to try out—was a small handheld called a pulsar blaster. It directed a pulse of energy that could knock someone on their ass and crush the breath out of them, while leaving the heavy metal casing of the ship around them intact. Sonya also grabbed a couple of light-weight swords before she hurried to her next stop.
Though she didn’t like the idea of asking for his help, Ethan had proven himself to be skilled in combat. And, despite the fact that she was currently in shambles over what had occurred, her family was more important than her pride.
She poked her head into The Demon’s Punchbowl and spotted Ethan behind the bar, conversing with a couple of crewmen. “Ethan! Come with me, now.”
Ethan looked up, bewildered by Sonya’s urgent tone. Was she finally ready to rail at him for what he had done? He looked around the pub. A few of the crew shifted their gazes between him and Sonya.
He turned back to Sonya, noting the weapons in her possession. Was she hoping to finish their bout on the mat? “Uh, do you want me to close the—”
“No time.” She motioned him closer.
He stepped out from behind the bar and crossed the room.
She pulled him into the hall and continued in a confidential tone. “Sebastian is docking, and I’m not sure, but there could be trouble.”
His mind snapped to attention. What if Anya was hurt again? Dammit! He should have fought harder to join them.
Sonya offered him a sword. He took it and followed her without another word. When they arrived at the docking bay, the shuttle had already settled, but the room was still in the process of being pressurized. They could only wait and watch through a small clear window pane in the bulkhead.