Codename Summer (Undercover Embassy, Book Four)

by Ross, Aubrey

  He snatched the hat from her head and tossed it aside. “Did you miss me?” He advanced again, backing her against the door. “Do you close your eyes and think of me while your customers are on top of you?” The thought both excited and repelled him. He wanted his image lodged securely in her mind, but thinking of anyone else touching her sent fury ricocheting through his spirit.

  “I’m here with you now.” She bit her bottom lip, her lashes sweeping down to shadow her eyes. “Nothing else matters.”

  “Spoken like a practiced whore!” He slapped his hands against the door on either side of her head, crowding her, caging her with his body. “Is turning tricks really better than being my mate? I could have provided for you and protected you.”

  “Spoken like a Gathosian pet.” She glared at him, breasts swelling with each agitated breath. “We might be fighting a losing battle but we’ll never surrender. We’ll die with our souls intact, which is more than I can say about you!”

  Her bitterness shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did. “You have a rather pronounced opinion of me, considering what little you know.”

  “Is this where you list your justifications for betraying your own people? The Gathosians are monsters. How can you willingly serve them?”

  Willingly? He almost laughed. No one willingly served the Gathosians and she knew it.

  He didn’t argue. It would be a waste of breath. She wasn’t ready to accept the truth or even listen to his side of the story. Their only common ground had always been passion. That would have to be enough, for now.

  He cupped her chin and tilted her head back. “Are you Saroji, my betrothed, or Summer, a skillful spy for the Resistance?”

  “I’m not your anything, so I guess that makes me Summer.”

  His gaze narrowed and Saroji wanted to pull back the words. She wanted his mouth on hers and his cock buried deep inside her, but not like this, not while anger and resentment hardened his gaze.

  “Fine by me.” He spun her around and placed her hands against the door. Then he kicked her feet apart and reached beneath her skirt, dragging her thong down around her knees. She waited for the brutal thrust of his cock, the fullness she so desperately needed. He ran his fingertips over her hips, up and down her thighs and across her ass cheeks.

  The restriction of her thong around her knees was oddly evocative, increasing the tension inside her. She wanted more, longed for the firm grasp of cuffs against her wrists and the security of cords around her ankles.

  His hand pushed between her thighs, his fingers barely grazing her folds. “You’re already wet.” There was no mockery in his tone, just a calm statement of fact.

  She closed her hands into fists, hating her weakness even as her passage clenched painfully. Once the decision was made for her to keep the appointment, her body had gone into sexual overdrive. She’d rubbed herself to a quick orgasm before she fell asleep the night before, but her dreams had been filled with images of Malik. She woke up restless and needy and she’d been wet ever since.

  He pushed two fingers into her pussy and she squeezed as hard as she could. “Oh yes. Push back against me. Ride my hand.”

  Beyond shame or regret, she bore down on his fingers, taking them as deep as she could. Then she pulled her hips forward, savoring the slide before she rammed herself back onto his hand again.

  “That’s right.” His voice was deep and commanding, just the way she remembered. “Harder.”

  She eagerly obeyed, spreading her legs wider to increase the pressure on her knees. He reached around her hip with his other hand and splayed his fingers against her pelvis, slowing her thrusts to better match the rhythm of his hand. She arched her back, tightening her inner muscles again and again.

  She was close, so damn close, but her orgasm remained just out of reach. He was intentionally avoiding her G-spot and her clit, keeping her simmering and desperate.

  With a frustrated cry she moved her hand downward, but he caught her wrist and returned her hand to its place on the door. “You know better.”

  “Please, let me come.”

  “You come when I say you come, and not before.”

  She trembled, concentrating on the wet slap of her pussy against his palm.

  She heard the frantic shuffle of his clothing. Then he shifted both hands to her hips and adjusted the angle of her body. His cock pushed between her thighs, the thick intrusion unmistakable.

  He paused against her opening and whispered into her ear, “Is this what you want, sweet slut?”

  She gritted her teeth to keep from begging. He would not bend her to his will so easily. Her body might need his but her mind and spirit were securely protected from his hypnotic sway. “This is why you summoned me, isn’t it? What are you waiting for?”

  His fingers tightened on her hips, and his hot breath ruffled her hair. “Works for me—Summer!”

  He drove his entire length into her aching passage with one violent thrust. The head of his cock brushed across her G-spot and the fullness compressed her clit. She started to come and threw back her head, slapping him in the face with her hair.

  “Not yet.” He wrapped his arms around her, holding her immobile as the sensations receded.

  “Malik, please,” she cried, squeezing him as hard as she could.

  “So it’s Malik now? What happened to Agent Wanatee?” He pulled back and shoved inward with short, sharp strokes.

  Pushing her head toward the door, he bent her forward. The new angle allowed him deeper, and Saroji moaned. She’d waited too long for this, needed the sweet release she’d only known with Malik.

  “Please, Sir, may I come?” She whispered the request, terrified of rejection, yet unable to withstand the pressure a moment longer.

  He cupped her mound and drove deep, molding his pelvis against her ass. His middle finger eased between her folds and circled her clit. “Come for me, Saroji. Squeeze me tight.”

  Suspended in a haze of sensation, Saroji submitted to his touch. She relaxed and let him take her, responding with her stillness. He dragged his finger across her clit and her orgasm released in forceful spasms, radiating out from where their bodies were joined.

  Her knees gave out as the last spasm faded and he followed her down to the floor. Pulling her away from the door, he pressed against her back. He resumed the gentle orbit of her clit as he dragged his cock nearly out. She folded her arms and lowered her head, offering him a better angle.

  The position must have pleased him. He groaned and grasped her hips with both hands. Then he rode her hard, his cock shuttling in and out with long, deep strokes.

  His energy brushed against her mind, gentle yet insistent. “Open for me.”

  Dreading his reaction, she shook her head. His rhythm stuttered but didn’t stop.

  “Why?”

  It was time to throw down the gauntlet and he wasn’t going to like it. She pushed up against him, taking him as deep as she could with her knees restrained. “My body is yours to do with as you will, but my mind belongs to me.”

  “Damn it, Saroji.” He growled then grasped the front of her thighs and thrust even faster.

  She closed her eyes, reveling in the frantic surge of his cock. He was thick and long, filling her completely with each sharp lunge. Her senses soared toward another orgasm as her heart ached for so much more.

  He pulled out suddenly and her cunt clenched in protest. She dug her fingernails into her palms as his seed splashed against her upturned ass. “I never come inside a whore.” His voice was so gruff and strained it was barely recognizable.

  Less sure of her strategy than she had been moments before, she glanced over her shoulder. “Ambassadors are required by law to be free of disease and on some form of birth control. Mistress Autumn should have explained that these archaic concerns need not hamper your pleasure.”

  He just glared at her as he struggled to his feet and righted his clothing. “Vaccinations protect me from disease, but I have only your word that you’re not
fertile. No pleasure ambassador is worthy of my seed.”

  She had established their roles to provoke him, so why did his words sting so badly? Refusing to give in to the tears stinging her eyes, she wiggled out of her panties and used the small scrap of cloth to wipe his come off her skin. Then she stood as gracefully as her wobbly legs allowed and held out the soiled thong.

  “Would you like to keep this as a souvenir?”

  With a snarl contorting his handsome face, he batted the offered wad out of her hand then fisted the back of her hair. “Do you really want to continue this game? You might not like where it takes us.”

  She dove into his night-black gaze and greedily absorbed the heat of his nearness. He wouldn’t hurt her, at least not physically. Indifference had always been his weapon and he’d wielded it ruthlessly.

  His long black hair had come loose from its tie, making him look savage and wicked. She wanted to feel the rasp of his short beard against her inner thighs as his mouth devoured her pussy. He’d been her first lover, had become the standard by which she judged all others, which probably explained why there’d been so few.

  “Why do you consider this a game?” A bit of her composure returned as she surrounded herself with the turbulent emotions so apparent in his expression. He was anything but indifferent now and that’s the way she intended to keep him. It was his turn to be off-balanced and undone, to want more than his lover was willing to give.

  “After Spring helped Evard Keenan escape, I looked into her history more closely. Spring led me to Autumn, and Autumn led me to your brother. General Noirte is either leading the Resistance or he’s turning a blind eye to their treasonous activities. And if Ra’jen is involved, you’re involved. It took me less than a day to figure out you are Summer.”

  Saroji remained silent. His suspicions came as no surprise. What she needed to find out was how much of his information he’d turned over to the Gathosians.

  “You don’t deny it?”

  “You didn’t ask questions. You stated accusations.”

  “Do you let them fuck you?” He gritted out the question between clenched teeth, sending a thrill down her spine. If he didn’t care about her on some level, the question would never cross his mind.

  “Isn’t that a bit hypocritical?” Instead of resisting his hold, she moved closer, easing the pressure on her scalp as her breasts brushed against his chest. “You let the Gathosians flow through your mind and inhabit your body. What’s the difference? We’re both doing what we must to survive.”

  “Surviving on a Gathosian-occupied world requires obedience.” He wrapped his free arm around her waist and drew her flush with his body. “The Resistance is a futile endeavor that is likely to get you killed.”

  Cursing the layers of clothes separating their skin, she gazed into his eyes. “Participating in the Resistance is the only thing that keeps me going. Without some flicker of hope, life isn’t worth living.”

  “But it’s pointless.” His expression hardened and he pushed her away. “I’ve seen it over and over. Uprisings are nothing new to the Gathosians. They know how to extinguish a rebellion better than anyone.”

  “Then why does the Resistance still exist?” Unused to stilettos, Saroji kicked off her shoes and wiggled her toes.

  “You were a miniscule annoyance, not worth the effort to address.”

  “‘Were’?” She rubbed her sides with a frustrated groan. The bustier was cutting into her ribs and constricting her breathing. No wonder ambassadors were so eager to strip. Their costumes were torturous. “Does that mean we’re more than annoying now?”

  “As soon as they realize Evard is still alive, they’ll—”

  “What makes you think he’s still alive? We tried to rescue him. That’s true, but he was shot during the escape and didn’t survive.”

  “Yeah, I read the guards’ reports. But I also know what it takes to kill a Bartonese in his prime. Evard is still alive and it’s only a matter of time before the Gathosians figure it out.” He crossed to the dining table and poured himself a drink. “Do you want something?”

  “Whatever you’re having would be fine.”

  He chuckled. “Pryett fire ale? Are you sure?”

  She moved toward him, ridiculously aware of her naked pussy beneath her short skirt. All he had to do was reach beneath or bend her over and she’d be exposed and accessible. “I’m half Pryett, remember? I had fire ale for the first time when I was…far too young to be drinking fire ale.” She smiled as he passed her a glass of the reddish liquid.

  He leaned back against the table as he studied her. “Where is Evard stashed? Needless to say, they’ll want him back.”

  She paused for a couple of slow sips before responding. “I have a better question. Why didn’t you do anything to prevent his rescue? You were there, Malik. Are you going to pretend you didn’t know what Spring was trying to accomplish?”

  His lips curved as he raised his glass, making his expression hard to read. “I was focused on my mission.”

  “Bullshit. You knew exactly what was about to happen and you walked away.”

  He shrugged then set his half-drained glass aside. “Does that mean I still have a soul, or am I just growing careless?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  His brow arched and a lazy smile parted his lips. “At least you’re honest. Why don’t we continue in that vein? What was Evard really working on, and why was it necessary to blow up the lab?”

  “How much of this is your speculation and how much do the Gathosians know for sure?”

  “Why would you believe anything I told you? I’m their lapdog, remember?” Bitterness flickered in his gaze before he managed to conceal it. He was not as immune to the need for freedom as he wanted her to believe.

  “If you knew I was Summer, why did you arrange this meeting? You know I won’t tell you anything that will endanger the Resistance.”

  “And you could have sent someone else in your place. I would have called your bluff, of course. But you’re here because you wanted to see me.”

  “I don’t deny it.” She reached around him to set her glass down then placed her hand on his upper arm. “I’ve always found pleasure in your arms, and pleasure is in short supply on this world.”

  “So this is about pleasure and only pleasure?” His gaze narrowed and his muscles flexed beneath her fingers.

  Her attitude angered him, as she’d intended. She wasn’t ready to offer more than her body. He’d have to earn her trust first and she wasn’t sure he was capable of the task. Pleasure, on the other hand, flowed naturally and effortlessly between them. It always had.

  “Did you have something else in mind?”

  For a long, strained moment he stared at her, his expression carefully guarded. Then his gaze swept the length of her body and he said, “You said you’re mine to do with as I will. So prove it. I want you naked and on your knees.”

  Chapter Two

  Malik’s gut clenched as he watched Saroji undress. She was easily the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, with pale-blonde hair and flawless skin providing the perfect setting for her unusual eyes. Framed by thick dark lashes, her eyes could shift from silver to midnight blue and every shade in between.

  She slipped off her jacket and unzipped her skirt, wiggling a bit as the teasing fabric slipped over her hips. Black stockings highlighted her shapely legs and led his gaze to her bare pussy. She turned, presenting him with her back and the tantalizing curve of her ass.

  “Could you unlace me?”

  He was tempted to have her leave the bustier in place. The garment sculpted her figure into an intriguing hourglass, but he wanted access to her nipples. With determined tugs he freed the laces and pulled the garment away from her skin.

  She stretched and rubbed her torso, releasing an appreciative sigh. “Thank God! I’d forgotten what it felt like to breathe.”

  He might have freed her breathing but his chest felt so damn tight he could hardly fi
ll his lungs. “Give me your stockings.”

  Turning slightly to the side, she displayed her figure to perfection as she bent and rolled the stockings down her legs. His cock rose, thick and hard, pressing against his zipper with enough force to make him groan.

  She handed him the stockings, not asking why he wanted them. The gleam in her gaze assured him she knew exactly what he had in mind. She liked to be bound, came faster and harder when she was at his mercy.

  “On your knees.” His voice rasped over the words and his balls felt heavy and tight.

  He helped her kneel and she put her hands behind her back so he could secure them with one of the stockings. After snugly binding her wrists he looked at her ankles. No, he had a better idea. Moving in front of her, he wrapped the stocking around her throat, and her eyes widened. She needed to trust him, as she had when they first met.

  As she had before he broke her heart.

  The thought constricted his heart and he whispered, “Relax. This is about pleasure, not pain.” He hadn’t meant to soothe her but the words just slipped out. He used the stocking to form a makeshift collar and left a small length resting on her upper chest. If he grasped the miniature leash the stocking would pull on the back of her neck, not choke her. “Move your legs farther apart.” She did and her outer lips separated, allowing him to see her flushed folds.

  He stepped back and took in her beauty, savoring the tension as his cock ached for attention.

  She didn’t speak but she glanced up through her lashes. Uncertainty had crept into her gaze and the last thing he wanted was her fear. “You are even more beautiful than I remembered.” Her lashes lowered, shielding her gaze. Annoyed by her retreat, he closed the distance between them and raised her chin until she met his gaze. “Don’t hide from me. If you won’t let me share your emotions, I must be able to see your eyes.”

  “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  He traced her bottom lip with his thumb, fascinated by the softness. He wanted to kiss her, knew how readily she responded to the intimate twining of tongues and the intoxicating slide of lips. But she was Summer, and he didn’t kiss pleasure ambassadors.