by Kim Knox
Cam's soft chuckle forced my eyes to close, all too aware of the dangerous slid of his fingers. "You've never questioned how I know your name. How I knew where to find you."
Why was he talking? We didn’t need to say anything. Something stirred in the back of my mind. The stone. It was doing this, turning my thoughts to mush…but I didn’t care. I wanted my moment of joy with him. My chest tightened. It had been too long. “Does it really matter?”
He circled my breast, the ache of my needing him to move closer, to stroke his callused thumb tip over my nipple. Or his mouth. Cam’s mouth wet and hot, sucking, his tongue flicking— Breathing suddenly became overrated.
"Everything matters, Serena.” His hand dropped mine, and slow fingers undid the buttons on my tunic, pushing it back from my shoulders. His hands on my flesh almost had me swaying…and I groaned when his longed-for mouth teased my breast. "I didn't come looking for the stone.” His tongue swirled over the peaked nipple, his large hand low on my spine holding me steady. "I came looking for you."
His words, his touch fired under my skin and I grabbed at his shoulders, my other hand fisting in his hair. “Me?” Me. For a moment, the thought that he knew who I was, who I really was arched my body, pressing his mouth hard against my breast. The rush of liquid heat through my veins negated all other thought. His soft, satisfied moan rippled through me. Yes, he had me, he’d found me and I wanted that hot, clever mouth on every inch of my body.
"No questions? No argument or indignation?” Something lurked under his voice and it tightened my fingers in his hair. He looked up, and his gaze speared me. The need, the desire there caught my breath. "You planned this. Planned to lure me here and bind me. Why?"
His hand eased down from stroking, teasing my other breast to the top button of my trousers. He slid the first button through and then second, third and fourth. The thin material loosened on my hips and with the urging of his hot fingers, he dropped it down my thighs. He pressed insane little kisses to the underside of my breast and I couldn't help the slow groan that escaped me. "Why, Serena?"
“You deserved it.” The words came out on a breathless gasp, no thought of my long months of scheming staining the need I had for his man. “You deserved all of it.”
His thumbs hooked into my underwear, teasing his fingers against my skin. “I deserve all of it?” He smiled against my skin and the feel of it, wicked, so filled with the promise of pleasure bloomed heat through my flesh. “Do you know what you’re offering?”
“Cam…”
His fingers shifted against my spine and the smile faded. “Do you?”
I pulled his head back and glared at him. “Why are you still talking?”
His grin was hard, wicked and my heart kicked. “As you want to fuck me, I have to talk. Our roles are reversed…Serena.”
I tried to concentrate. He’d paused before he said my new name. That meant…but my thoughts broke as Cam’s fingertips trailed back up my inner thigh, tormenting me with little sparks of need that ignited in his wake. He brushed the crease of my thigh, stroking upwards and away from where I ached for his touch.
“You’re binding yourself to me. Can’t you feel it?”
His warm breath brushed my skin and in that moment the surge of a connection burned through my flesh. Deeper than before, when I’d simply been another body in his bed. I tightened my fingers in his hair and tried to fight the warmth, the need I had to believe there had ever been anything more than just sex between us.
“You can.” His lips chased a path across my stomach. “And you wanted this, wanted us bound on a genetic level. Why?”
“Revenge.”
He stilled. “Revenge?”
Words I didn’t want burst free. Damn stone had me unable to hold anything back from him. “You ruin lives. Someone had to stop you.”
His laughter ran hot against my skin. “Stop me from doing this?” Close kisses teased over my ribs to my waist and he nipped at the curve of my hip. I squealed, the sensation hot and quick, the little bite something he’d always delighted in doing in the brief weeks I’d held his interest. “After I’ve hunted you down, I don’t think so.”
And then his fingers dipped lower, brushing over my mons in tantalising circles. The first flickers of orgasm heated my flesh and I clung to them, to him greedy for more.
His thumb slid lower, lower until he pushed against the wetness of my flesh and found my clit. I couldn’t help the low moan that escaped me. “I never wanted you.”
“Lying, Serena. What would the Adrienai say?” A finger followed his thumb, slipping sliding in a slow rhythm that had me aching. “No, this elaborate scheme was because you wanted me again. Admit it.”
The guilty need for him burned as it always had, but now I couldn’t deny it. The stone had ripped away all the layers with which I’d hidden the past and fuck, I couldn’t deny the pulse of need heavy in my belly. I never could. Had he really hunted me out, not simply his precious stone? And was he right? Had I chased down his stone, thinking that he would find it…and me? Words pushed from me, compelled by something other. “And what do you want?”
Cam’s fingers circled and played pushing deeper, harder and the heat coiled tighter, so tight I had to pant against it. Orgasm teetered, so close it burned and with it came something else. He wanted to ignore my question; I could almost taste his resistance. “Cam…”
“You.”
He groaned the word against my stomach, and bright flares danced behind my eyes. Almost, almost there, the promised moment of joy, of bliss so close, but still… "Tell me."
“I want you. I have always wanted you.” The final word was little more than a whisper. “Siran.”
A riot of heat smashed up through my body and I cried out, a half-strangled cry that could have been his name tearing from me. I clung to him, hot and shaking, the tight press of his arms holding up my boneless body. I pressed a kiss into his hair and his familiar scent sank deep into my lungs. “Siran,” I murmured, repeating my old name. “I’m Siran.”
Cam expelled a slow sigh. "You left.” His breath brushed warm against my damp skin, and I shivered. "You ran."
I closed my eyes, but I couldn’t ignore the pain cutting through his quiet voice. I never thought I’d be explaining myself to him, at least not without gloating and anger. My stomach twisted in a tight knot. “You were bored. A stone held more attraction.”
He pulled back and I willed myself to hold his gaze. Regret dulled them, and the knot in my stomach ached. "I have wealth and influence…but you're a mythologist. I wanted something special.” He snorted. "But I got it wrong, and you ran, changed your face.” His gaze darted over my features, and for a moment, it almost felt as if he saw my face as it was before I'd spent what money I had to have myself genetically altered. His fingertips traced over my cheek, easing over my jaw. A smile ghosted over his lips and his gaze softened. "I never thought I'd see your face again. The stone restored you, Siran."
My heart twisted, the pain of his admission unexpected, unwanted. But the Adrienai had us examining, facing what had driven us apart. Damn it, it shouldn’t hurt. Cam and I had connected for a few weeks, falling into too much too fast…and we crashed just as quickly. I closed my eyes, a slow breath easing the pain in my chest as I murmured, “I’m sorry.”
Cam pushed himself up from the bed and wrapped me in tight, strong arms, his lips pressed to my tangled hair. My hands fisted in the thin material of his robe and I clung to him, breathing in his familiar scent, the heat of his body warming my nakedness. “I found you again.” He whispered the words against the shell of my ear, the almost brush of his lips shivering down through my flesh. “That’s all I wanted.”
My eyes burned and thankfully, his robe caught the spill of tears. “You’re ruining your reputation. Cam Vasek tied to one woman.”
He laughed, the sound warm, wanted and I pressed myself harder against him and earned a tantalising kiss below my ear. “Shocking, isn’t it?”
&nb
sp; A smile broke through the surge of emotion, lightening it and I released a heavy sigh. “What now?” I lifted my head. There was no sign of the glittering rift anywhere in the room. “There’s still no way out.” I felt Cam smirking at me and my gaze narrowed on him. “What?”
“A moment of joy.” He sounded reasonable, but his grey-blue eyes shone brighter than the rift.
My mouth twitched. “Yes, I had one, thank you.”
Cam tilted his head. “Then isn’t it my turn?”
I bit back the smile that wanted to break across my lips. “Your turn?”
“Would you deny me?” His wicked grin made my heart beat fast. “A man of the cloth…”
I growled at him and pushed him. Hard. He hit the bed and fell onto the deep mattress. “You’re no priest, Cam.”
He shifted himself up onto his elbows. “I, and my followers, always preferred pontifex maximus.”
“You would.” My gaze skirted over his torso, the material pulled tight across his chest. I licked my lips and Cam’s eyes darkened. It had been too long since I’d seen him naked, tasted his skin, kissed him, sank my teeth into him.
“You look hungry, Siran.”
“And you look nervous.”
I cracked my knuckles, deliberately imitating his earlier action. He held my gaze and the warmth I found there, the need lifted the pain I didn’t even know I carried. Finding the stone and using it had worked had bound us together. That knowledge moved me closer and I walked my fingers up his hard thigh. The muscle twitched under my light touch. My grin was sharp and Cam’s lips parted. I could almost taste his anticipation.
“Well? Shall we begin?”
The End
Kim Knox Books
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling Author, Kim Knox brews sex, magic, darkness and technology in a little corner of North West England.
www.kim-knox.co.uk
Also by Kim Knox
Strange Worlds
Hunting Evander
Flesh and Shadows
Chosen One
Warflesh
Perfecting Naia
Painted Promise
Mythoi Series
Emergence
Slaughter Point
Carina Press Books
Agamemnon Frost and the House of Death
Agamemnon Frost and the Hollow Ships
Agamemnon Frost and the Crown of Towers
Bitter Harvest
Dark Dealings
Synthetic Dreams
Gambit
Fantasy and Paranormal Romance
At the Sorcerer’s Command
Her Dark Soul
Lightning in a Bottle
Reiver
Ruthless Beauty
Skin Magic
Under the Lion’s Curse
Weaving Words
Free - Red in Tooth and Claw
Science Fiction Romance
7% and Rising
Breaking Chance
Dark Immortality
Satin Spar
Free - The Zed Word
Planetary Passions
Magnetism
Friction
Current
Fusion
Frequency
Available in print as: Planetary Passions
Magnetism
Planetary Passions : Book One
Orlena Sol is not meant to be in her room, naked…with her superior officer.
The crew of the CMC Theseus doesn’t have sex. At least not with each other. But there’s a new hunger in Dareh Andersen and he’s looking at Orlena as if she’s all too edible. He’s ready to fulfil her fantasies, which makes no sense. He’s always wanted anyone but her.
Orlena is convinced there’s more to his sudden interest. She fears his desire is simply a dream, a lie. Something other, something outside and beyond them is at work…but it’s a force she doesn’t want to fight.
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excerpt
Orlena Sol erupted from her bed. Naked.
What the fuck?
Chill air slapped her bare skin and she grabbed her sheets and blankets, huddling back into their warmth. She let her head fall into the synthetic plumpness of her pillow and stared up into the prick of grey light in the metal curve of the ceiling.
She fisted her fingers in the tangle of her hair and blew out a long, slow breath. How the hell was she in her bed?
Shit. That kind of loss of time—a small black hole forming in her memory, with no idea of where, what or who—hadn’t happened in years. Not since she was little more than a deck hand on one of the big constructor arms out past Umbriel.
Her bad years.
She was in her room? She frowned. Her eyes narrowed on the pitted darkness. A different darkness. This wasn’t her cramped cabin on the CMC Theseus.
She lay in her own quarters on the Uranian moon, Miranda. The familiar sounds and smells washed over her in the heavily vibrating silence. The metal walls, the over-starched cotton of her sheets, the fading scent of grass and willowy trees from the air fabricator all screamed it. Which made no sense. Her last memory was of being belted into the navigator’s chair aboard the Theseus.
She could still taste the anger at Captain Jannes’ decision to let that fucked-up pilot on board again. She knew they had to have one of the cult as their pilot. No ship mined Uranus without one now… But Zev was trouble. Yes, she was supposed to have an other-sense about the currents and eddies of Uranus’ atmosphere, but the woman was skittish, a freak, a planet-worshipper. And she was bad luck. Orlena was with Dareh on that one.
She pressed her fingers into her scalp and willed her memory back. The atmosphere scoops on the Theseus had stood open, ready for the payload of helium-3 and hydrogen deuteride. Shan, Callie and Dareh were feeding vital signs through the monitors, nerves taut, ready to contain the load. Jannes barked his orders, his words quick and low, and Zev’s light voice wove through his. Syato stood silent as she always did, her attention fixed on the curve of the screen and the fast-moving currents of Uranus’ methane-stained atmosphere. Her face had its usual stern mask, but her gaze was alive with the wealth about to flow into their ship.
A familiar situation. Nothing out of the ordinary.
But then the instrumentation panel had lit up, klaxons pounded and their well-ordered ship dropped into chaos.
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Lightning in a Bottle
Rebecca Marwood is trapped in her guardian's house, but something in the night draws her to the fire and steel of his exotic menagerie. And there she finds freedom in the strangest of places...
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excerpt
My guardian had always thought me ignorant of the goings on in his house.
A vapid girl, alone in the world, who never noticed the dark robed men arriving in the dead of night. Or one who never wondered at the hints of sage and frankincense that drifted through the passages of his London town house in the early mornings. I knew, had known for quite some years that Henry Bellasis, Viscount Fauconberg was a warlock. And that he now planned to draw me into his world by offering my virginity to a stranger.
I wrapped my fingers around the great brass key, the pitted metal warming against my skin as I stood in the shadowed passage that led to the cellar door. The place where my guardian had bound his great secret.
Rumours from the footmen over the past week had run that Henry kept a dragon in the arched rooms that also housed his collection of metal automata. A great beast that steamed and groaned and licked fire into cook’s little parlour when the wind blew north.
The maids shared darker stories as they made the beds or took a pan and brush to the ashes in the hearths. The dragon bound in the cellar did more than steam and groan. One maid had blushed scarlet and admitted in a rushed whisper that her dreams were full of a great, dark beast. A wicked beast…with a wicked mouth.
Not that I believed their tales. My guardian set himself as a collector, an inventor, or that was the face he liked
to present to the Fellows of the Royal Society. Those in his inner circle knew better. I knew better. There was no dragon in the cellar. There was something…darker.
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