She glared at him. “Really? You want to hash this out now?”
“I used the metalink to bind you, to keep you from running. I wondered if I’d see a bit of fight when you figured out that I wouldn’t let you run anymore.” He leaned down and pressed a hard kiss to her mouth before jerking back out of biting range.
“You tied me up and sexually tormented me to get back at me for being afraid? For being traumatized?” With every word, her voice rose. By the end, she’d shouted in his face. Her chest heaved with the force of her anger, but she was trapped and unable to do more than huff and puff as he watched…and listened.
Dee let her body relax into the bed and then closed her eyes. Truth was, she felt more frustration than actual anger. She knew what he was doing—he’d told her. He’d been very up -front about his plan, even though she hadn’t been paying a lot of attention to silly things like words at the time. He was making sure she never left him. Making sure she never wanted to leave. After all the shit she’d put him through, all the indecision and all the doubt, he was making a stand.
A very pleasurable stand.
He wanted her to beg him. He wanted her to crave him. He probably wanted her to swear eternal love, put on a white dress, and spend the rest of her life populating the universe with miniature little Vikings.
But part of her still wasn’t ready for that. She might never be. As much as she wanted to promise that she’d never bolt again, she couldn’t. Kinnip had decimated her home, crushed her confidence, and turned her into a coward.
Still blaming Kinnip? The tiny, cruel voice in veeeery back of her mind whispered. He’s not here. You know Tugarth would never hurt you. You’re being a coward all on your own. And it was true. Damn that know-it-all voice.
A big, fat tear rolled down her cheek as her anger dissipated. “I’m afraid,” she whispered.
“I know,” her Viking murmured, leaning forward to kiss her. In a gesture of comfort, he rested his forehead against hers. It soothed her in the wake of her confession. “You’ve survived, my brave one. You’ve done what it takes to keep breathing. That is admirable. But there comes a time when we must all choose to live, to put aside the past. You have that option now—with me—and we can choose to be happy. Not perfect…but happy.” He pulled back to look in her eyes. “Choose me, my Charm. Please.”
Dee sniffled. “You make it sound so easy.”
Tugarth chuckled. “No. I don’t think anything between us could be easy. You’re too stubborn for that.”
She huffed. “Yeah, well, you’re bossy. And pushy. And my wrists kinda hurt.”
Her handsome Bonded immediately switched from lover to protector. He released her from the metalink and gently prodded the raw skin. “I’m sorry, my bright one,” he rasped. He feathered a tender kiss over her wrists. “You aren’t bleeding, but you’ll bruise—you need a Medbed.”
“Nah.” She pulled her slightly achy hands from his hold and then sank her fingers into his hair. Finally able to touch him. He let her switch their positions so that she was on top. “I’m not worried about a little bruise…not when my entire lower half is going to wither away if not immediately treated.”
His lips quirked, tantalizing her with a peek at his dimples. “Wither away? That sounds…unfortunate.”
“Your face is going to be ‘unfortunate’ if you don’t fuck me,” she snapped. “You’ve teased me nearly to death and then tormented me on top of that! And I get it—yes, I was afraid. Yes, I needed to face that fear. Yes, I want to stay with you instead of scampering off every time something freaks me out. Now can I get fucked? Please?”
Tugarth was grinning by the end of her tirade, all hints of concern wiped away. “I love it when you beg,” he joked. “And it would be my pleasure to ‘treat’ your entire lower half…but is that all you want from me, my Charm?” His question was lightly worded, but there was a hint of insecurity beneath. He’d taken his stand. He’d gotten her to admit her fear…and now he was revealing his.
She slid her hands from his hair and cupped his face. “No. Before you, sex was gross.” She made a face. “Body fluids and a stranger’s external reproductive organ being shoved up—” She cut herself off and cleared her throat. “Sex didn’t interest me until you came along. Your body is intriguing; muscles on top of muscles. A face that makes me want to swoon. Dimples!”
A faint purple tinge darkened her Viking’s cheeks. “I don’t have dimples.”
“Yes, you do. And they’re charming. So is your slow, sweet smile. And the way you always say just the right thing. How patient you are…you’re amazing, Tugarth.” It was her turn to kiss him. A quick peck of affection. “I’m afraid of everything. Of the Pirates. Of my own cowardice and what it says about me. Of the future. Especially now,” she whispered, nuzzling him while cocooned within the drape of her wild red hair as it fell around them. Without all her issues crowded between them, it was easy to suck up some courage and spit out the truth. “The future terrifies me, Tugarth. I have more to lose now that I love you.”
His arms banded around her and he crushed their bodies together. Their lips meshed for a kiss that blew all others out of the water. It was fierce and hard—a claiming. She moaned into it, twining her tongue with his in a passionate battle.
Their lips stayed locked even when he rolled them across the enormous bed. He settled into the cradle of her naked hips and then reached down to rip open his pants. Without word or warning, he slammed into her.
Deegan tore her mouth from his and screamed at the invasion, her body clenching around his cock. After all the teasing, it seemed her pussy wasn’t taking chances. She went from zero to nirvana in one thrust.
The ripples of pleasure as she passed the pinnacle were not enough to keep her satisfied; her Bonded was balls-deep and holding still. Tugarth’s teeth clenched as he waited for her, and he groaned when she canted her hips in a silent invitation for more.
Her channel squeezed him as he withdrew, swollen and needy, and the friction dragged a keening whine from Dee. She wanted it back! Her hands clamped onto his hips, nails digging deep, and then she pulled.
“Say it again,” he demanded while resisting her silent urging.
Stubborn male! “I love you, I love you, I love you! Now fuck me!”
Tugarth slammed back into her, their bodies slapping together, and they both whimpered. It didn’t feel good or great or awesome—it was fucking fantastic. And they both wanted more. The pace went from hard and deep to hard, deep, and fast. Furiously fast.
Now that they were actually fucking, there was no control.
The sounds between them were almost bestial, and their thrusts felt more like rutting than anything practiced or choreographed. He pulled her thighs farther apart and drove deeper into her, hitting her cervix with enough force to drive heavy grunts from her lips—but she didn’t ask him to stop or slow down. The pleasure-pain was what she needed, a stepping stone toward a cliff she craved.
“You’re going to come again, my Charm.” He ground his pelvic bone against her clit until she saw stars. “You’re going to scream for me.”
“Yes!” she shouted. “Please, my Bonded! I need—I want—”
He hammered into her, the wild rhythm slamming them both into the mattress with enough force that they bounced with every thrust. She loved it, ached for the euphoria she could feel just beyond her fingertips…but she wasn’t sure how to reach…how to…
“Tugarth!” she screeched, frustrated. “Ah!”
He pressed a hand between them and thrummed her clit, never pausing his wild movements. “This is what you wanted,” he growled. “You wanted me to fuck you. So you’ll come for me now, come all over my cock.”
He pinched her clit then, ending the universe as she knew it.
Her body—her tormented, enflamed body—exploded. Every cell, every pore. From her toes to her hair and everything in between. She really exploded. Probably. Maybe. Not that it really mattered…she was dead. She had to be dead.<
br />
Bliss like she’d never known swept her away until she was floating. It was a true out-of-body experience, her heavy limbs and skin just falling away as she drifted up and into ecstasy. It lasted forever and no time at all, because time didn’t matter.
For however long she was there at that peak, nothing mattered.
***
She awoke to gentle hands stroking her back, soothingly gliding from the top of her head down to the base of her spine. She purred like a cat and then cuddled into a warm, furry chest. That roused her just enough to recognize Tugarth’s scent. Her Viking still smelled like sex. She sighed with satisfied, lazy contentment and nuzzled him, fully prepared to stay nestled next to him for the rest of her life.
“I wore you out,” Tugarth murmured against her neck before pressing butterfly kisses up to her jaw and then across her cheek to her lips. He kept stroking her back. “But you awakened me.”
She smiled, her eyes still closed as she enjoyed the sweet aftermath of their lovemaking. It hadn’t been beautiful—it hadn’t even been romantic—but the love between them had fueled it, and she couldn’t help but revel in how wonderful that felt.
“I’m not worn out,” she corrected. “I’m relaxed—something I haven’t been in as long as I can remember.”
His rumble of approval had her opening her eyes, wanting to see if his expression matched her own mood. It did. There wasn’t a trace of wariness or pain clouding his coal-black gaze, nor did his face show signs of desperation like it had when she’d woken in the medical ward. He appeared happy. Just…happy. Her Viking’s strong jawline was softened, as if he was on the verge of smiling, and he kept petting her as if he couldn’t help himself.
Dee purred again and rubbed her body up against his, her nipples hardening from the softly textured fuzz on his chest. “And if it wouldn’t be too much of a bother, since you’re feeling awakened,”—the erection pressed tight to her tummy throbbed as she tested out her wiles, moving against him with open invitation—“perhaps you could help me relax a bit more?”
“It will be my pleasure,” he moaned, his hand tangling in her hair instead of continuing to stroke it. “Anything for you, my Charm.”
Chapter 8
“Knock knock!”
Dee jumped about a foot in the air at the sound of someone banging on the door while simultaneously shouting from the other side. Tugarth growled a little, bless his over-protective and possessive heart.
“It’s Paul,” she whispered. The snack they were eating as fuel for their next round of “relaxing” tasted like cardboard, so Dee was glad for the opportunity to shove it away.
Her Viking huffed. “Does that mean I have to let him in?”
Dee nipped his bare shoulder; they were both half dressed. Tugarth was wearing pants, and Dee was wearing his enormous shirt. Both of them had crazy sex hair. “Yes, though don’t be surprised when he comments on how we’re dressed. He loves pulling dirty details from couples.”
That made him frown. “He’s not getting details—no one is getting details. They shouldn’t ever think about you and sex at the same time. Ever,” he stressed.
“Um, Paul’s gay, sweetie. He’d be thinking about you and sex.” Which made her pause. “Maybe go put a shirt on while I get the door.”
Tugarth smirked. “Anything for you, my jealous one.”
Dee stuck her tongue out and shooed him away. When he was out of sight, she pulled open the door. “Hello, Paul.”
Paul bustled into the room with a no-nonsense expression, having obviously decided that her romantic reunion with Tugarth had gone on long enough. “Time’s up—we’ve got a situation.”
Tugarth returned with his strong features scrunched in irritation. “It had better be something important.”
“Well, we could all die momentarily. Does that count?” Paul scratched his chin. “I thought that was a valid reason,” he muttered.
“What?” Dee gasped. “What’s happened?”
“We didn’t outmaneuver the Pirates quite as well as we’d thought. In fact, they tricked us—we were trying to outrun them, when really they were herding us into a trap. Two of their ships were hiding in an asteroid belt, waiting. Now we’re faced with three-to-one odds.”
“Why hasn’t there been an alarm?” Tugarth demanded, straightening up. “And what do you need from me?”
“I’m here for Deegan,” Paul corrected. “We can’t hivemind—we have no idea why several Paradins have secondary aneurisms after the first was removed. We don’t think it has anything to do with the virus, but we’re being cautious. We don’t want to weaken ourselves right before an attack.”
“Well?” Dee asked. “What do you need?”
Tugarth interrupted before Paul could even open his mouth to respond. “I need to seek answers. There should have been an alarm, which leads me to believe there are systems in need of repair.” He kissed her forehead again. “Stay here, my brave one. Heal. That second aneurism wasn’t a fluke, and you need your rest after awakening me.” He winked and then he strode away, leaving before she could argue. Tricky alien.
“Yeah…no. You’ve got to dressed and moving. Lanie needs help in the hub.”
Despite Tugarth’s command for her to stay safely tucked in his quarters, Dee rushed to get dressed. The mission came first, and she wasn’t going to hide when she could be helping.
In minutes, Dee was jogging alongside Paul through nearly empty corridors. The Peacekeepers they did pass were all stone-faced and stoic, at odds with how frantic and panicked she felt. Besides Paul, she didn’t see a single other Paradin. Where was everyone? She turned to ask, but the strain on Paul’s face kept her pestering him with questions.
Waking up to discover she’d been killed by her second aneurism, and then brought back to life by one of her friends, was disconcerting. To heap Pirates on top of that…sheesh. The stress alone was enough to give her a third aneurism.
Her hand rested on her gun as she jogged, keeping the holster from slapping against her leg with every step. Even when she stopped running, she kept her hand in place, needing the comfort her weapon provided—the hub was crowded with Paradins. Packed with Paradins, actually. The silence of the hall was a distant memory once Dee was spotted.
Everyone who saw her shoved their way close for a hug. Paul got elbowed away as hands brushed her shoulders, her back, and her hair. Dee was gratified by their concern, and appreciated their well wishes, but it felt a bit like being lucky dice in New Vegas. Everyone was touching and smiling and talking—and accidentally jostling. It quickly became claustrophobic.
“Thank you!” she called, backing herself into a corner with her hands up protectively in front of herself. “I’m fine, now. Really.”
The other survivors picked up on her discomfort and left off with their tactile well-wishes. A lot of survivors were weird about being touched, so they knew not to take it personally. She nodded and smiled at a few more waves and so glad you’re okays before the hoopla died down and she became invisible again. Dee was just letting out a sigh of relief when Lanie stood up on her chair.
“Listen up!” Lanie yelled, quieting the murmurs and whispers in their little sardine can. Everyone turned to her, trusting her. “We’re going to bunker down just like we discussed,”—Dee assumed that discussion had happened while she was recovering from death’s door, because she had no idea what Lanie was talking about—“Make sure you’ve only got one bag, and make sure you’ll be comfortable carrying it in the event that you need to run. This is not vacation; don’t have a bikini and your favorite pair of sunglasses, people!” A few chuckles cut some of the tension in the hub, but Lanie didn’t pause long enough for everyone to relax. “The tube down to the maintenance tunnel is behind me—we’re sending down groups of four at a time. There will be a guide, a Paradin familiar with the labyrinth down there, and you will cooperate with him or her.” Lanie paused and glared out at her audience. “Anyone who causes trouble will be stunned,”—Lanie waved a s
tungun, pressing the control so it sizzled—“and left to wait in the dark, alone. Capisce?”
That little announcement shocked everyone into total silence. And then, like little robots, they all nodded. Even Dee.
“Great!” Lanie smiled. She was beautiful and calm, as if she hadn’t just gone 20th Century on them with the threat of violence. “We’re pulling groups from the front. Wait patiently.” She hopped down from the chair and disappeared into the mass.
Whispers and murmurs started up again, but it was subdued.
Craigh, an older man with only a wisp of hair atop his shiny head, began comforting little Logan. He picked the boy up, and they started playing I Spy. Jane was standing next to the pair, smiling despite the tight lines of worry bracketing her mouth. Other Paradins turned to watch, and several tried to help Logan win.
But the harmless fun bothered Dee—Logan and Jane should have been in the first group down. After all that had been lost from the infection, they needed to protect their future. Dee scooted around the edge of the room until she reached Lanie.
“Can we get Jane and Logan down sooner rather than later?” she asked, keeping her voice low.
Lanie glanced up, her brow furrowed. “I didn’t think about that.” She craned her neck until she spotted the pair. “Jane!” she called. Everyone turned to stare at the young mother. “Will you bring Logan up here? I have special job for our little man!”
Logan grinned and bounced in Craigh’s arms, but he was the only one who looked excited. Everyone else looked relieved. The next few minutes were a blur as Lanie handed Logan a tiny flashlight and instructed him on how to point it, making sure he knew it was a big responsibility. And then he was gone, carefully lowered into the tube under his mother’s watchful eyes. Dee pressed her gun into Jane’s hand before she could follow her son down; the other woman looked terrified, but she grasped the handle and nodded her thanks.
Deegan's Rescue: Survivors of Paradise Book 2 Page 10