Stolen: A SciFi Alien Warlord Romance
Page 11
They lapsed into silence.
Turning once more, Aurora’s gaze went straight to where the Warlord had been.
He’d moved on to the next portrait, seemingly indifferent to the hostile glares radiating from those around him.
Admiration bubbled inside of her. What would it be like to be so brave? To stand up to everyone?
Suddenly, he turned. There was no time to hide her esteem. Their eyes locked.
The golden ties connecting them flared bright.
His determination and defiance blasted through her as if they were one.
Then, as if a curtain dropped, as if he remembered their last ugly exchange, his eyes blanked. Their connection severed.
He turned and strode toward to the exit to the gardens.
His withdrawal hit like a blow. For that one moment, it had been just the two of them. Like when they were young. Just them—and the startling sense that for once she wasn’t alone. That she understood another human being. That there was more to her world than her own selfish survival and deceit.
“Just where do you think you’re going?”
Her aunt’s angry question halted Aurora in mid step. She hadn’t realized she’d moved, but now that she had she was more certain than ever it was the right decision. “I’ll be back.”
Her aunt’s expression pinched. “My brother told you to remain here. He will be most displeased.”
“One cannot control the need to use the ladies’ room, not even the great and powerful Executive Whetherton.”
“Your rebellions are fast moving beyond foolish into something dangerous,” hissed her aunt. “I don’t know what has come over you lately, but you’re going to get into trouble.” Her lips pressed into a hard line. “I won’t cover for you when you do.”
“I never meant to be a problem for you.”
“Then stop trying to steal my brother’s affection. If you would only do what he says, he wouldn’t even bother with you. He would come back to me. He would trust me, lean on me. Just as he did when we were children.”
A chill crashed through Aurora. “Cecilia, your love and loyalty for your brother are admirable.” She touched her aunt’s arm gently. “But the vulnerable boy Executive Whetherton once was is gone.”
Her aunt shook off her hand. “You are unworthy of him.”
“And I think you’re worth far more than you believe.”
Her aunt swallowed hard. Looked away.
Hope rose inside Aurora, but when her aunt’s gaze clashed with hers once more it held the same brittle, hard stare as before. “You will not turn me from him.”
Chest tight, Aurora walked away.
When she reached the garden doors, she didn’t slow. She shoved them open and hurried out into the riot of green, red, and pink manicured hedges that had been pruned and cut into a twisty garden maze with several dead ends and small hidden alcoves throughout, a favorite kind of garden among the naturally secretive élithe.
The earthy smell of dirt and Triangulum Galaxy–imported roses gave her added courage. Out here she could breathe. Out here perhaps there was a chance for truth to grow. For redemption to flourish.
She followed the path through the thick, high hedges, her body leading her unerringly where she needed to go—heat and need and the shimmer of thin, curling golden filaments tugging her ever closer to her goal—until, finally, in the middle of the maze, surrounded by rioting blossoms of red and yellow and white, she caught sight of a lone, dark figure. He stood behind a stone bench, staring at nothing, his grip on the back of the seat tight.
Her feet refused to carry her any farther.
They’d parted badly. Ugly words exchanged.
And just because the heat offered her a glimpse into his anger and pain didn’t mean she should capitalize on it. He made his views on that front perfectly clear.
Plus, she was the one who’d first started the rumors that he was the thief.
She was the last person in the world who should be out here.
“You really do like to watch.” He didn’t turn around.
Her cheeks heated.
“You shouldn’t be out here.” His tone rumbled with harsh command. “Go back inside.”
16
She was so sick of being ordered around. “I have as much right to be out here as you.”
The Warlord shifted to face her, his golden eyes glittering dangerously, horns jutting out straight, veins bulging at his neck and forearm. Worse, he looked like he’d been in some kind of fight, his lower lip partially swollen while a purpling bruise marked his square jaw. All clear signs of aggression and an even clearer message she should stay away.
But the sensations pulsing between them told a different story.
“Are you sure you want to risk it?” His voice was heavy with challenge.
“Yes.” She steeled herself and came to stand by him, the mouthwatering scent of him filling her lungs, a thousand times more sensual than the flowers at their backs. She was so tired of being afraid all the time. So tired of fighting the longing—and herself.
He turned back around, once again gripping the back of the bench. “Let’s get it over with, then. Have you come to gloat? To tell me you knew all along I was a monster?”
“Not at all. I just…I just wanted…”
“What?”
She knew exactly what was beneath all that snap and snarl. “I came to tell you I’m sorry for what’s happening. That I believe you’re innocent of the charges.”
His grip on the bench tightened. “I know the Martian heat doesn’t give up that kind of information. Don’t tell me something you think I want to hear.”
“I’m telling you the truth. I don’t need the heat and what happened when we were young to know your character. You’re not the thief and I would never believe you capable of hurting innocent females.”
His features slackened with surprise, and for a moment she saw the same flash of vulnerability in his gaze that she sensed along the golden threads between them. The unguarded display left her chest tight and her heart stuttering.
“Thank you for that.” His voice was low. “I didn’t think I gave a damn about what others thought, but that is nice to hear.”
Her heart fluttered. She owed him that and more.
But it wasn’t only obligation that made her want to soothe away the tight lines at his eyes and mouth.
As if he knew her thoughts, his expression shifted, a predatory heat entering his eyes. “Was that the only reason you followed me out here?”
She sucked down a deep breath for courage because the moment he asked, she realized the truth—and for once, just this once, she wanted to speak it. “No.”
The edge of the bench cracked beneath his hold. “Good. Because I appreciate the vote of confidence, but you already know what I want from you is far more carnal.”
With no more warning that that, he slid behind her, the hard heat of his body surrounding her.
Exactly as she wanted. Carnal. Yes, that was exactly what she wanted, too.
There could be no soul-bonding, no forever or deep connection, but there could be lust and the searing burn of short-term physical need. She wanted that—and she was sensible enough to make sure that was all there was.
“I’m shanus at apologies,” he all but growled. “You’re right.”
Caged between the bench and the rock-hard steel of him, his breath a caress against her neck, something big and thick pushing insistently into the small of her back, she should have felt afraid. Instead, need rippled through her.
Her fingers, a whisper away from his tight grip, curled around the edge of the bench to hold herself upright. “You and I have a way of working each other up.”
“All that pent-up lust. The explosive power of the Martian heat. Combined with your fire and my own. It’s like laser fuel to a powder keg.” He pressed his mouth against her ear. “Bam.”
A shock of fire snaked down her spine.
She shivered.
&nbs
p; A rumble sounded from his chest. Almost like a purr. A purr that vibrated right to her core.
“I didn’t think anything could make me smile today.” He dragged his nose along the sensitive tendon at her neck, his movements smooth and unhurried, the power and energy that crackled against her skin as dominant as ever, but less wrathful. “But then again, I didn’t expect you. I really do like your fire, Balcony.”
Something fluttered inside her chest. “I like yours, too, Warlord.”
“DaKar,” he commanded.
“Maybe,” she challenged, the scent and feel of him making her reckless, prodding the female she’d once been back to life. “Do you remember my name? Or is Balcony and princess all you’ve got?”
His low chuckle rumbled against her spine. “Oh, I recall everything about you, Aurora.” A ripple of tension ran through him. “Especially how much you deserve a proper apology. I’ve been a bully and a poor excuse for a male on two occasions. It won’t happen again.”
Another flutter. The certainty in his tone irrefutable. The male was nothing like her stepfather, his show of control over his emotions soothing a part of her she hadn’t even realized had been on alert.
“And if you chose to go now,” he continued, “all you’ll hear from me is a thank you for your kind words and the promise that if our paths cross again you can expect I will behave as only the most proper of gentlemen. I told you before that the Martian heat did not have to control us, and it’s true. This is about our choice. About doing what we like.”
Her hold tightened around the bench. “And if I choose to stay?”
This time the growl at her back was lower and more animalistic. “I won’t behave like a gentleman at all.”
Heat bloomed between her thighs. “Good, because according to a certain arrogant male, I’m no lady.”
Another low chuckle. “What you are is fire, beauty, a sharp mind…” his jaw nuzzled her temple, stealing her breath, “and far braver than I gave you credit for.”
“I-I shouldn’t have said what I did, either. You deserve none of what is happening.” A sob erupted without warning, the exquisite beauty of the moment punctured by guilt that dragged her downward once more. “I’m so sorry.”
“Shhh, little one. The last thing I want is your tears.” His voice thickened. “Unless they’re wrung by my hand. While you’re bent over this bench. Those sweet thighs spread wide. That hungry chanti of yours getting just what it needs.”
She bucked in his hold, white-hot desire slamming through her. Every other sensation—guilt, sadness, uncertainty—burned to ash at his coarse words.
Goddess help her, he was mercurial. Unpredictable. Wild.
Just like her.
Circumstances had forced her to be timid, but that wasn’t her true nature. Not at all. At his words, pieces of herself, forced into hiding for so long, awoke and lurched toward the light.
The golden strands shimmered bright as they twined around her chest, thickening and multiplying. “Show me.”
Like the Warlord he was, he didn’t hesitate. Skimming the pad of his fingers over her heaving chest, he slipped his hand beneath the neckline of her gown. His huge hand closed over breast, a claim of exquisite heat.
He rolled her nipple between his thick fingers. Pinched. “Keep your hands on the bench. You’re under my command now.”
She moaned, clutching the bench to keep from sinking to the ground.
“There’s that sound.” His fangs scraped her bared neck, the hint of danger only heightening her need. “Purr for me, kitten. Just like before.”
Ever since that moment on the balcony, this was what she had wanted. What her body craved. To be the female in his arms. Free. Unafraid.
“Goddess,” she gasped. “That feels…so good.”
“I knew it would be like this between us.” He bunched her dress in his hands, the cool air a shock to her heated skin. Gooseflesh rose on her flesh. It only made her more sensitive. “You’ve an explorer’s heart, Earther.”
“I-I’d give anything to leave the dome. T-to see the stars for real.”
“I can help you see those stars right from here.” His big hand pushed between her thighs. “Spread those legs.”
She shivered again. Did as she was told.
His thick fingers probed beneath the silk of her panties, ghosting over her slick center. “Wet and ready.” His fangs nipped the vulnerable tendon at her neck. “I’m going to make you soar so bleeking high.”
She whimpered, his barely-there touch sending the sweetest burn licking along her thighs even as the fierceness of his lust battered at her through the golden soul ties trying to bind them ever tighter. The double ambush stoked her need higher. “Oh, Goddess, Volkan.”
“DaKar. I want to hear my name on your lips.”
“DaKar, I…I ache.”
“I know, little one. I’ll make it better.” His hand cupped her center. “This pretty wet chanti needs it rough.”
Shocked, she jerked and then sank into his touch as he worked her harder. Desperate, grateful. Because he was exactly right. Every inch of her strained toward the firm press of his palm.
“That’s right. Ride my hand.” His words were a rasped command. “Show me what you like.” He pressed back harder. “How sweetly you can open to my touch. How much you like what I can give you.”
Beyond pride, beyond fear, she ground herself into his palm while a thick, heavy bulge pressed against her back.
“That’s it, beautiful. Work that sweet pussy on me. Take what you need.”
It had been so long since anyone gave to her willingly.
Sound receded. Her breath stopped. Everything inside her stilled as the rhythmic stroke of his hand subsumed everything else.
“Do you see them yet, gorgeous? Do you see them sparkling right in front of you?” He slapped her clit with the flat of his palm. Her body bucked. “Come for me.”
“DaKar!” She saw his promised stars. Wave after wave of ecstasy crashed through her as she soared. Without fear. Without shame.
The pleasure seemed unending. Toes curling, her breath impossible to catch as her body splintered apart, flying far beyond the dome. Beyond space and light. Into pure bliss.
For the moment, she could trust. For the moment, she didn’t have to hide.
She came back to herself to find him nuzzling her neck, the heat of his strong, solid body an anchor. The golden ties that had seemed so scary before only adding to her sense of peace.
In this moment, she couldn’t remember what she’d been so frightened would happen. Only that it was so right.
“So beautiful, kitten.” His growled endearments only added to her joy. “Pure fire.”
She shivered with an aftershock, awe swirling in her veins. This was pleasure. This was truth. Because of him. Her heart soared. She wanted more. She wanted him inside her. “DaKar, I—”
“Are you sure the Warlord came this way?” The voice of an irritated female, breathless and sultry, echoed from the other side of the hedge.
17
Eyes wide, Aurora froze in place, DaKar’s hand still between her thighs as she crash-landed back on Earth. She recognized that voice. Lady Bainbright. The female who’d been in the garden with DaKar that first night.
“Shanus.” Muttering a curse, her partner-in-crime half carried, half dragged her behind a large set of bushes, flattening himself against the branches, her body squeezed against his.
Clearly, he had more experience with these kinds of moments than she.
“Well, who can find anything in this ridiculous maze of a garden?” The other woman’s voice was equally familiar. It was Lady Everly. The same Lady Everly whose danashe necklace Aurora had stolen before suggesting that a certain half-Martian Warlord might be behind the thefts.
Of all the females in the universe, these were the last two Aurora ever wanted to cross paths with again.
“If you recall,” continued Lady Everly, the edge to her voice unmistakable, “I said I wa
s more than willing to explore on my own.”
“Oh, I would never be so thoughtless as to send you out here by yourself,” answered Lady Bainbright. “He is a savage, after all.”
Aurora’s eyes narrowed.
“Don’t even think it.” He whispered. “Not a word. They’ll move on soon enough.”
“Why are you looking for him if you believe he’s so dangerous?” Lady Everly sounded even closer now.
“The same reason as you.” Lady Bainbright’s tone was smug. “Sometimes that is precisely what one wants. To leave all civility behind.”
“Hmm. I thought you said he couldn’t be the thief. You told everyone he was with you when my necklace was stolen.”
“True.” DaKar’s ex-lover’s voice grew sly. “But who knows what he was doing before and after he left me?”
“Bitter, eh?”
“I only want him to realize if he’d stayed with me longer he wouldn’t be in such trouble.”
“Goddess, you’re a vindictive bitch.”
“What about you?” snapped Bainbright. “Making trouble, spreading even worse rumors about him. All because he refused to sleep with you.”
“I had nothing to do with the latest rumors that he is the murderer. I thought that was you. And, for your information, he hasn’t refused to sleep with me. He just hasn’t said yes yet…but he will.”
Aurora couldn’t stand it another second. Lady Bainbright deserved to be flayed alive for her malice and Lady Everly wasn’t much better.
She rose on tiptoes. “Those women are reprehensible.”
His expression gave nothing away. “At least they are honest about what they want. Most are not.”
It was as if he’d yanked the breath from her lungs. The golden threads around her chest dimmed and contracted tight.
He hadn’t meant the words for her, but they arrowed straight to her soul all the same. He was right. She was more dishonest than both of those horrible females.
“Enough of this.” Lady Bainbright’s voice pulled Aurora from her thoughts. The female’s words sounded more muffled, as if the maze twists and turns had led her farther away. “He’s not here. I’m going to have a look around the grounds on the other side of the hall.”