His throat turned his words husky. “Do you know how beautiful you are?”
“Tell me later.” She tugged off his shirt, her impatient fingers skimming over his chest and shoulders, and her eagerness shocked him. Azsla had seemed reserved. Even secretive. But she wasn’t holding back now. Her hands were tugging, yanking at him. Her eyes were full of laughter and joy.
“Do you know how much I want you?” he asked, his chest tight, his voice hoarse. This was not happening. He couldn’t be in an ice cave. Not with Azsla. And yet her fingers were touching his flesh, creating havoc with his self-control.
This vision was as real as any genuine experience he’d ever had. Perhaps even more real. His senses seemed sharper. Looking at her, he noted the luscious details. Tiny hairs on her nape were encased in goose bumps. Her eyes were already dilated, her eyelashes dark and sassy. And her lips seemed to be calling him as much as her female scent that wafted in the still, chilly air.
Unable to hold back another moment, he reached out, cupped her chin, and caught sight of her racing pulse. And when he ran the tip of his thumb over her bottom lip, he enjoyed the soft short intake of her gasp.
His fantasy worked overtime and really did a number on him. No way could she be real. Yet he couldn’t find one wrong detail. Usually he didn’t even remember his dreams, but when he did, he never recalled the particulars. But now he could feel her hair trailing over his skin and see the tiny quiver of excitement in her lower lip as her tongue caught at the corner of her mouth.
Hell, if he was crazy, he might as well enjoy himself. “Tell me what you want.”
“Everything. I want everything.” She held out her arms to him. “Kiss me.”
“That would be my pleasure.”
Her lips welcomed him with a soft caress, then parted. She teased with the tip of her tongue as she traced his upper lip. He groaned into her mouth, and she yielded with a surprising strength, pulling him down on top of her, letting him know in quite definite terms that she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
The moment was perfect. Too perfect. But he was past caring. With her scent in his lungs, he had to know more.
She tasted like ambrosia, sweet, with hints of exotic spices, cinnabari, maybe traconia nectar with a trace of mint. When the tips of her breasts touched his chest, the sensation shot through him like a ravenous craving. He ached to caress every wonderfully delicious portion of her. The muscles beneath her smooth skin added a lovely texture to her softness. And as she moved her hips and opened her legs to cradle his, he felt as if he belonged with her.
Forever.
This was a singular feeling, one he couldn’t remember in his faulty memory. He’d never felt this way before, as if all his natural inhibition had been obliterated. Emotions rushed through his systems like a hyperdrive engine, almost too fast to take in or comprehend. He couldn’t think past wanting her, having her, needing her.
Azsla was his mate. His life mate. He knew as surely as he needed to breathe oxygen that they were absolutely meant to be together. She was a part of him, his other half. They might have just met, and he might not know her birthday, her history, her parents, or if she liked her salt raw or cooked, but he’d never been so certain of being in love in his life. Azsla was his. His. He was certain.
He loved her.
All doubts disappeared.
He loved her absolutely. Unconditionally. Unequivocally.
Loved her with every beat of his heart. Loved her as if she were the best part of himself.
Peace and love slowed down his rocketing rush to have her. He ached to give her pleasure, wanting to ensure this was the best loving she’d ever had. His longo might be demanding he thrust into her right now, but he ignored his own needs.
Instead, he drew her nipple into his mouth. Pleased when she arched her spine, wound her arms around his neck, and thrust her fingers into his hair, he redoubled his efforts to slow down.
She whimpered. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”
He laved her nipple with his tongue, appreciating the way she tightened even more under his caresses, his longo actually growing bigger and harder. Thankful for the slacks that prevented him from feeling her flesh against his, he used his free hand to lavish more attention on her other breast.
“Yes. Yes. I like that.” Her fingers clenched in his hair, and he smiled, perfectly content to stay exactly where he was. He loved loving this woman.
He shifted a bit to the side and let his hand trail from her breast to her stomach to her hairless minga. So smooth, so soft, she opened wider for him, welcoming his touch. He caressed the delicate skin lightly. So lightly.
“That tickles.”
He pulled harder on her nipple. Contrasted the deep tug with tiny, light caresses on the lips of her minga.
“More.” She bucked demandingly, and he placed one leg over hers to hold her steady. Despite the cold air, her skin radiated heat. And he was glad for his pants that held him back. “Please. More.”
“You’ll have everything you want,” he promised. “I’ll give you everything I’ve got.”
“I want everything . . . and more.”
10
AZSLA HAD NEVER thought she’d find both contentment and excitement with the same man, but Derrek was a giving and creative lover. The man seemed to have intuitive knowledge about what she liked and needed. His kisses had warmed her flesh until she no longer noticed the chilly air of the ice cave.
Soft furs caressed her back—while Derrek took care of her front. And more. The pull of his lips on her nipple, the intimacy of his touch on her minga had her crazy with need, squirming with desire. He’d teased and tormented until she could barely think beyond the needs of her flesh.
She was close to the edge. Her cells clenched, her body was oh-so ready. Not just her body. Mentally she ached for release, and resistance seemed impossible when she wanted him so badly. Surely she could have him? Enjoy him? She’d trained so hard, she should be able to squash her Quait and have him, too.
But it was as if he’d swirled her Quait into a whirlpool of desire that sucked away all her strength to hold back. Emotions began to crack the dam she’d fortified with years of training.
She should push him away. She should be telling him to stop. But for some reason . . . she couldn’t say the words.
But neither could she let him learn about her Quait. When his finger entered her minga, she gasped, the dam springing a leak. Only with the greatest of mental effort could she plug the hole . . . only to spring another.
As his clever fingers and tongue worked over her, she flailed in a rising tide of Quait. Up to her neck, she struggled to keep herself level . . . but Derrek was taking over, pushing her to the max.
And while she loved every second of his loving . . . she feared what would happen if she let loose.
At the same time . . . she couldn’t hold back. She was going, going, going . . . and she was in trouble. Bad trouble. Her Quait was pounding at the dam, trying to rush over the top, trying to seep through the cracks, surging against the wall that was slowly giving way.
Derrek. She clutched him, breathed his male essence deep into her lungs. She hadn’t known it would be this good. Hadn’t realized that making love could rip her to shreds.
At the very limit of her control, on the brink of orgasm, Azsla felt as if she were falling, and suddenly she opened her eyes. She blinked hard. The ice cave seemed to dissolve around her, and she found herself on the Zoran street with her crew.
And life rushed back. Her mission. Saving her crew. Escape.
What in God’s sweet grace had just happened? Her skin still rippled with Derrek’s caresses, but she was no longer with him. Yet she had no doubt that she’d been making love to him. But how could that be? Some sort of waking dream? And what a dream it had been. He’d been so sweet
, so giving, that she still shook with her need for release.
Her crew was acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. And when she checked the time on her com unit, she realized she hadn’t been gone at all.
Luckily for Azsla and her crew, no one had tried to stop their exit from President Laurie’s building. They’d moved fast, found an outside doorway onto the city sidewalk, and blended. That meant walking quickly, but not so quickly they’d attract attention.
She’d been heading outside the building with her crew, and then wham. She’d been lying naked on those furs, reaching out to Derrek, words coming from her mouth just like they did in a real dream. Only she hadn’t been asleep.
She hadn’t.
Could the food Yawitz had given her have been drugged? Now, during the escape, was no time to discuss what had happened to her—not that she’d ever share the details, but she would have liked to have known if her crew had also experienced a waking vision.
As difficult as it was to focus with every unsatisfied nerve cell still tingling, Azsla split their small group into two and tried to ignore the tension thrumming through her body. The vision had ended too soon. And she remained as hyper as a cat on the prowl.
Azsla and Micoo took point. Jadlan and Rak covered their backs. While she knew what to expect better than the others due to her training, she was distracted by the sexual encounter. It was bad enough her body wouldn’t cool down, but the burning made keeping her Quait under control more difficult than usual. Man, did Derrek know how to kiss.
That thought sobered her as they walked through the city. She forced her attention to the Zoran capital. Even she was surprised by what the slaves had accomplished here within the span of a decade. They’d built a modern city with glorious architecture, each building a testament to beauty. Maybe the joy of being free led to such magnificent designs.
What an odd thought. She wondered where it had come from? While she’d believed she’d understood how much freedom meant to slaves, she always thought the concept overrated. No one was truly free. She was as tied to her past as any slave. Driven by the memories of her murdered parents. Her days and nights with the Corps hadn’t been her own to direct. She’d followed orders every waking micronbit of every long day. The training had been difficult, brutal. After she’d learned to master her Quait, she’d pushed her body to extremes, learning hand-to-hand combat that included not only self-defense but innumerable ways to kill. And she’d had to do it all the hard way, by suppressing her Quait. Eventually she’d specialized in advanced weaponry, which was one of the reasons the Corps had chosen her for this mission, since she needed to learn the weapons capabilities of the Zorans. If they’d put as much ingenuity into their weaponry as they had into the building of this city, the Ramans had every reason for concern.
If they could create this city, had they somehow engineered her vision of kissing Derrek? As she thought about that kiss and Derrek, she didn’t just recall the physical sensations. Although those were certainly thrilling, it was the emotions she’d experienced during the vision that had staggered her. Shocked her.
She hadn’t let herself become attached to anyone—especially romantically—for a very long time. In the process of training for this mission, Azsla had sacrificed her emotions. She’d learned not to dwell on any details beyond the task at hand.
But now that every moment of every waking hour wasn’t consumed with training and tactics, now that she was living her mission, there were times she found stray thoughts and emotions seeping to the surface of her mind. And those unfocused ideas were leading her to places she wasn’t certain she wanted to go. Sure, she fully intended to save Micoo, Jadlan, and Rak—how could she not after Kali’s sacrifice?
And yet, less than seven cycles ago she would have considered saving her crew the actions of a traitor. She had no business hiding these slaves from the tranqed Firsts, no business saving their lives or dragging them through the city. Helping them upped the danger of being caught by a factor of ten. And yet . . . she simply could not bring herself to leave them behind for the tranqed Firsts to gather up, send back to Rama, and execute.
However, this lapse was going to be her last deviation from her mission. She would get them all to safety and put this incident behind her and forget these aberrations in her nature. They were obviously due to exhaustion and to the soft spot in her heart for Kali. But once her crew was safe, she’d be back on track. She wasn’t going to think about her waking vision. No way. There was no rational explanation for that.
And the gorgeous city made for easy distractions. Walking on broad sidewalks, they passed busy shops with overflowing baskets of sweet-smelling flowers, the stores filled with a wide assortment of goods. Chatty shoppers and industrious entrepreneurs went about their business with a happy attitude she couldn’t help but notice. Back on Rama, stores were run by slaves, and no First ever shopped. The demeanor inside was solemn. No smiles. No forearm shaking. Little talking. Raman slaves waited in long lines with sagging heads and bowed shoulders. Here, there was laughter, chatting, talking, and music systems in many establishments. Children were everywhere, and the sight of them playing games with balls and tiny vidscreens in wide grassy medians below the hovercraft grids intrigued her. On Rama, after their birth, slave children lived in crèches until the age of six, when they started to work. The children of Firsts were raised by their nannies and mostly kept out of sight of other adults. So the sight of little ones playing alongside siblings and friends under the watchful eyes of their mothers was one she’d never seen.
These people, so innocent, weren’t the least suspicious of strangers. Beyond a few casual glances, no one paid any attention to Azsla and her crew or their government issue clothing, and for that she was grateful. Especially since Micoo was still weak.
Azsla placed an arm around his waist to help support him. He was all skin and bones, but he shrugged away. “I can walk by myself, Captain.”
“I’m Azsla now.” She squeezed his shoulder to take away the sting of her words. “Please, don’t use my title again. It might give us away.”
“Sorry.” Micoo peered over his shoulder. “You think anyone’s looking for us?”
Yes. “I don’t know. We should get off the streets, but we need help . . . and I might see someone I knew back on Rama.” She raised her voice excitedly, hoped Micoo didn’t pick up the false tone as she lied. “Stay here and let me see what I can do. If there’s trouble, you and the others split.”
Micoo might be weak, but his voice was even, determined. “We won’t leave you.”
His loyalty reminded her of Kali. What was it with her crew? This loyalty to one another, to her, saddened her because she didn’t deserve it. If they knew her mission . . . a lump rose in her throat. Nothing was worse than betrayal by those one trusted. She knew that firsthand.
A few years after Azsla had started training, she’d had a partner. An older man whom she’d idolized. He’d taken her kisses and her lovemaking, and worse, her trust. At the time, he’d been her entire world. But during a mission, when things got tough, he’d panicked and taken the easy way out—he’d cheated and used his Quait. Not only had he failed big time, but he’d attempted to blame Azsla. He’d lied about his error and told the Corps that Azsla had used her Quait. But the vidtapes had proven her innocence, otherwise she would have been thrown out of the Corps, not him.
She’d been furious with him for failing, but blaming his failure on her had sliced open a painful wound. She’d felt stupid for mistaking a casual pairing during the night for more than it had been. Obviously he’d meant more to her than she had to him. After that, she’d closed herself off, devoted herself fully to her training. And she’d insisted on working alone.
She needed to set Micoo straight. “If I’m caught, you must leave me, because if you’re caught too, you won’t be free to come back and help me. Understand?”
<
br /> “Yes, Cap . . . Azsla.”
“Good. Now, wait here, please.” Azsla breezed into a grocery shop as if she belonged. She spent several micronbits walking past an assortment of fruit and grains while she secretly assessed the customers. An older gentleman in a gray coat with a curvy young woman at his side didn’t look like a good prospect. Neither did two young teenagers ogling the boy behind the counter. Picking out a matronly woman with a friendly face, she approached with what she hoped was a hesitant smile. “Afternoon.”
“Good day to you.” The woman squeezed a loaf of bread, then picked it up to sniff.
“I was wondering . . .” Azsla paused. She merely needed to strike up a conversation so that her lie to her crew would be believable.
“Yes?” The woman placed the bread in her basket, then gave Azsla her full attention. Her eyes were sharp, but kind. “What can I do for you?”
“I don’t get into the capital often. So I was hoping you could recommend an eating establishment that’s not too expensive.”
“Certainly.” She broke into a wide grin. “My cousin runs a great little diner. It’s down one block and over two. Look for the sign that says, Gourmet on the Cheap. You can’t miss it.”
“Thank you.” Azsla hugged the woman as if she’d done her an enormous favor. Startled, but going along, the woman hugged her back. Even better, Micoo had caught sight of Azsla’s hug and turned away. Perfect. Azsla reached into her backpack and called up a map on the tiny vidscreen Yawitz had given her. Although she didn’t like taking her crew to the safe house the Firsts had arranged, she had to get them off the street. And they would stay only long enough for her to make other arrangements. It wasn’t ideal, but she hoped the Firsts wouldn’t ever realize that the missing slaves were with Azsla and would leave her alone to do her job. She was taking a risk, but when the slaves went missing, Yawitz or her replacement would have to report and wait for orders to come back through the portal. By then, Azsla hoped to have found a safer place for her crew. “My sister is letting me stay with her. Could you steer me to her place? I’m a bit lost.” She tried on her best sheepish golly-gee-I’ve-never-been-to-the-big-city look.
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