I crooked a finger. “Bring it, bloodsucker.”
He swung, and had that fist found its target, I’d have found myself nose to the floor, but I feinted to the side, leaped onto the bed, and kicked back, striking that handsome jaw a second time and almost sending him sprawling on his ass.
“C’mon…” I beckoned. “You going to let me kick your ass while wearing a skirt?”
The growl deepened. He crawled onto the bed but hesitated, working his tongue around the split in his lip. His blood wouldn’t kill me here. I made a note to taste it soon.
“That’s half a skirt, and I’m starting to think you’re using your womanly assets against me.”
“My womanly assets? You mean my legs?”
I bounced back on the balls of my feet. He looked like he was down, like the poor marshal was beat, but he was far from it. We’d played this game before. He was just warming up.
“This is my dream,” I said. “Which means I’ll win.”
“Always have to argue.” He prowled forward, claws extending. “Just can’t admit I’m right.”
He shifted his weight to the right, readying for a left-handed attack, likely a slash of those claws. I focused on his movements. Instead of striking, he abruptly sat back on his legs and tore off his shirt, presenting the kind of chest my saru mind would happily get lost in admiring. Deliciously firm abs and that wicked v directing my gaze down. The shirt hit me in the face. I tore it aside in time to get a face full of a vakaru’d Kellee. He caught my wrists and drove me back against the wall. He was breathing hard, but so was I. My body sang against the press of his and tingled where his chest heaved against my breasts.
“I could bring my knee up at just the right angle to cripple you,” I hinted.
He pressed his hard arousal deeper against my hip. “But you won’t.” His voice sounded rough and raw, like he could only contain half the beast inside him. I wanted his words on my skin, his teeth too.
“And why is that?” I asked, words trembling.
“Because you want what’s between my legs as much as I want to give it to you.”
Holy cyn. Lust pulled a moan from my lips. He knew exactly how to make me writhe. I bit my lip and snarled when he saw.
His dark eyes shone. He leaned in, and his mouth, hovering over mine, demanded I take him. “Again, and again, and again.”
I chased his mouth with mine, wanting to capture him. He pulled back, showing who was in control here. Damn him, I wanted that smart mouth of his all over me. I wanted him on me, in me. I had no illusions here. Sex with Kellee would be rough, and knowing that, I ached for it to happen. Now.
I ground my hips against him, testing his resolve to keep me pinned, and felt him shudder. “How do you want me, Marshal? My back against this wall or my back against you, taking all of you from behind?”
My sex clenched, knowing which position I’d prefer.
His dark eyes flicked up, lust setting them ablaze.
I twisted my hips, hooked my leg around his, and pulled, buckling his knee. From there, it would have been easy to drive a knee into his nose and spring from the bed. Only, he caught my ankle somewhere in all of that, and instead of leaping gracefully away, I tumbled half off the bed. His rough grip traveled up my thigh and pulled. I twisted and found myself on my back with Kellee craned over me.
“Stop hitting my face,” he warned.
“It’s so pretty, I can’t help but mess it up.”
“I can’t help but think you’re going to try and kill me in the next few minutes.”
“Minutes? Is that all you’ve got in you?” I fluttered my eyelashes. “It’s a dream. If it’s yours, maybe I won’t. If it’s mine, well… are you too afraid to fuck me and find out?”
His mouth crashed into mine. His tongue drove in. And I kissed him back like I could crawl inside him and make him mine. His hand found my thigh and shoved it aside, opening me wide. His fingers ran lightly over the tiny bundle of nerves at my sex. Lust and desire shot through me, hot and sharp. I bucked and gasped, inviting him to sink in deep, and I groaned when his fingers did. Two first, then three. Slowly, in and out, then faster, while his thumb worked that same sensitive spot. It wouldn’t take much for me to lose my mind and come for him. A few more thrusts. Those too-gentle fingers caressing faster and faster. I caught his wrist to slow him before the pleasure shocked through me. He yanked free, flipped me onto my front, and hitched my hips up. I had never been more ready to fuck in my life.
I heard the fabric rustle as he fumbled with his trouser fasteners, and then the hard, smooth nudge of his arousal touched the softest part of me. It was all I could do not to push back and force him in. Slowly, so damn slowly, he pushed his tip in, then out, making me whine and throb for more. Again, slowly, achingly, he pushed in, taking his sweet damn time. I couldn’t think around the feel of him and gripped the headboard. He pulled out and stroked his cock against my opening.
“You had better fuck me right now, Marshal, or I’ll turn around and take you so damn hard you’ll lose that pretty vakaru mi—”
His sudden thrust went in deep, so deep it stole the words and the rest of my thoughts with it, almost too deep. I shifted, and so did he, easing out and then slamming in. I had one hand on the edge of the bed, the other on the headboard. It groaned in my grip. Or the groans were mine and his. I wanted more. I could take more. The sound of him pounding, skin slapping against skin, the rhythm of his rapid breaths sawing against my back. It wasn’t enough. There was more to be had for both of us.
“Bite me.”
His pace stuttered. Him slowing was the last thing I wanted. I found his hot, slick thigh and dug my nails in. “Bite and fuck, vakaru. You’ve wanted it since the first time we fought, when you tasted my blood on that knife. I remember, and so do you.”
“Kesh,” he groaned, a plea on his lips.
Flicking my hair to one side, I peered over my shoulder at the stunning sight of Marshal Kellee poised behind me, his lip half raised, teeth sharp and wet and wanting. I could feel him inside and clenched tighter, milking him. The doubts and fears crumbled from his expression.
He struck at my shoulder, sinking his teeth in at the same time as his cock drove in, and the sweet combination of pain and pleasure threw me out of my thoughts. There was nothing but him working and pounding and driving in me from behind as his teeth tore at my shoulder. I didn’t think it could get any sweeter. Then he pulled out, leaving me bereft, flipped me over, and buried his face between my legs. His tongue flicked and sucked and licked, building pleasure until I heard myself begging him to fill me again. This time, when he did, I saw the burn in his eyes, watched him rock over me, felt him work into a maddening rhythm. His claws were out, stretched along my side, over my ribs, dangerously close to cutting. His mouth, twisted in pleasure, glistened with blood. He had never looked more raw, more unseelie, more monstrous.
Startling, mind-numbing pleasure crashed through me, arching my back, and his pace quickened, his skin shining with perspiration and magic. His own vakaru magic. The magic of violence and honor. His rhythm jerked and stuttered. I watched his face crumble, his body wrecked in the moment. He cried out a raw and ragged sound. Shudders spilled his seed inside, and his long dark lashes fluttered over black eyes. He might have been the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.
I waited for the dream to turn, for the edges to fray and the lights to fade. When they didn’t, I whispered, “If this were my dream, I would have killed you by now.”
Kellee kissed me long and deep and slow. I wrapped my arms around his neck, trapping him close so he couldn’t see my tears. I missed him so much it hurt to think this would end soon. I wished this were real, but Kellee was worlds away, and even if Eledan could somehow magic him here, the marshal likely despised me. He thought I’d abandoned him. This dream could never be real.
Kellee saw the tears despite my efforts to hide them. Worry pinched his brow. He gently kissed them away. “That is not how this dream ends
.”
Chapter 8
Marshal Kellee
I licked my lips, tasting salt, and blinked into an unfamiliar and cramped cabin. Excalibur. Slowly, my thoughts realigned. I lay fully clothed on a cot squeezed into a space no larger than a closet, but moments ago, I’d been on Valand with Kesh… The dream-memory fluttered away, leaving only foggy thoughts and sensations, and a raging erection that ached to be worked over. I could still hear her, feel her nails digging into my thighs, and taste her on my tongue. I closed my eyes, and the afterglow beat through my body in warm, sensuous waves. My jaw ached, gums tingling as vakaru teeth extended. I hadn’t dreamed like that in…
A buzzer sounded at the door. “Marshal Kellee, your presence is requested in the labs.”
“Now!?”
“Yes, sir.”
By cyn, humans had the worst timing. “Give me a minute.”
The ghost of Kesh haunted me, her hips in my hands as I fucked her, and oh how I’d fucked her. It had been everything I’d ached for, everything I’d imagined every time she’d teased me. And more, so much more.
“Sir?”
“Dammit man, I’ll be right there!”
Burying my face in my hands, I growled in frustration. Kesh was everywhere. Her smile, I could see it clearly, the rare one that meant more than the superficial ones. Her moments of vulnerability when she thought no one was watching. Those little moments undid me. And her strength, like nothing I’d ever known outside of Valand. She was a million light years away, and still she had a hold of my heart. She could crush it in her fist if she wished.
I blinked at the room, as though seeing it for the first time. The guards had dropped me here. I’d intended to take a good look around the ship, and then… I must have decided to rest a few moments and fallen asleep.
Shaking the dream from my head, my lust subsided enough for me to face the guard without it being awkward.
“Marshal,” he greeted as I opened the door, straight-faced and professional. “You’ve been summoned to the labs. I’m here to escort you.”
I dragged a hand down my face and across my chin, scratching at the stubble. “Let’s go, then.”
The ship throbbed with tek. Electricity pulsed through the walls and the floor, and even the people glistened and sparkled with a fine electric aura. My skin and senses itched. I had to fight the urge to throw off my calm exterior and go full vakaru on their asses just to stop the incessant buzzing in my head. I had no idea how in the cyn Talen wasn’t climbing the cell bars, out of his mind from tek exposure.
Tek glistened in the Earthens’ eyes and their hair. It ran through the thread of their Sol Alliance uniforms. It likely meant their heightened senses were as acute as mine. Did they realize they had turned themselves into a parody of the protofae—their progenitors? Everything on Excalibur gleamed with artificial beauty. Even the air tasted of tek. I’d never been to Faerie, but I’d heard enough stories to know Faerie’s magic got into your body, into your veins, and made you want it from the inside out. Wasn’t this excessive tek its own kind of artificial glossy coating on an ugly interior?
Fools, all of them. Fae and humans alike. We’d had no such tek on Valand, and no magic either, and we’d thrived just fine. Until Oberon. Unfortunately, passion and violence hadn’t been enough to hold back Oberon’s wrath.
Little drones sailed overhead—tiny things like disembodied eyes built around a single buzzing rotor. The Earthens went about their business, accustomed to being watched from every angle. I clenched my hands to keep from swatting the damn things out of the air.
The guard stopped outside a door and buzzed me inside a tek workroom. They’d strapped Sota down to a workstation. Tek arms extended from the ceiling to probe at Sota’s casing. This room, with its excessive instruments, did nothing to soothe my rising restlessness.
“Ah, Marshal Kellee.” A young Earthen shoved a hand in front of my face. No older than Arran, this guy smiled like he’d spent his whole life smelling Earth’s flowers. “I’m Joseph Whitworth.” He grinned.
I took the offered hand and gave it a firm squeeze, deliberately making him wince. Joseph Whitworth was Earthen to the core. This was probably his first time spacebound, and wasn’t everything so fresh and exciting? He radiated a nervous energy that had a growl bubbling up my throat. Any vakaru like him would have been sent into the pits to fight until they’d burned off all that energy or died.
“So, this tactical wardrone has proven to be something of a tough nut to crack.” He carried a PI with him, and he swiped his fingers across its surface without looking. His pale skin suggested he spent much of his time beneath environmental domes, protected by radiation shielding. His reedy frame would have blown over during one of Calicto’s ion storms. A trip, a fall, and oops, a broken arm. It would take me three seconds to disable him. I cast a casual glance around the room as the kid talked about Sota’s ancient AI systems.
A little eye-drone had followed me in and stared from above, out of batting reach. I flashed it a smile. If it ventured any closer, I’d snatch it from the air and swallow it. See how that floating monitor got on with my inhospitable vakaru insides.
“The captain said you know about this drone?”
“I’m not a tek guy.” I crouched in front of Sota’s large, single lens, which could fry the insides of anyone who wronged Kesh. It glowed, very much awake. Sota was home, but he wasn’t talking. “But I’ll try to help.”
“It’s been heavily modified. Barely anything of its original programming remains. And the code inside is… unique. I’ve never seen anything like it. Looking at these specs, it shouldn’t even be functioning.” He sounded impressed. He and Kesh would have gotten along, so long as he didn’t hurt Sota.
“Seen a lot of wardrones, have you?” I asked.
“Nothing as obsolete as this one.”
“Obsolete, huh?”
Sota was listening to every word. He was also likely listening to everything beyond this room too, picking up the constant hum of tek around the ship. As much as the drone and I hadn’t been on the same page in the past, he was Kesh’s loyal friend, and he’d saved my ass a few times. He’d also filled me full of holes a few times too. Sota was directly connected to all this tek and too important to be abandoned to this operating table.
“What have you tried?” I asked, not caring about the answer but buying time to think my way around this.
“Ah well… almost everything.” Whitworth poked at his PI. “I started by debugging the entry systems. Someone had removed the log-in sequence, making it impossible for me to get in through the front door. I did get through, eventually, but the internal processes make no sense. My commands bounce right back. It’s almost as though it’s fighting me at every stage, but I have admin access, so… I don’t know what to make of it. Every time I try to open it up, a new firewall slams shut. I could crack it given enough time, but unfortunately, time is something we don’t have.”
“No time? Why not?” I asked, slipping it in casual-like.
“The Alliance needs the intel before they close the net.”
“Close the net?”
“The Frozen Storm defense net. Like Halow’s only… ours will work.”
Halow’s net would have held if not for Eledan’s years of tinkering. “And this drone is important because….”
“We found it on Hapters, alongside a horde of dark fae. The information it has could be vital in keeping out the fae. A net won’t work forever. “
“Keep them out? You’re not building a force? You’re not fighting them?”
“Fight them?” Whitworth laughed. “Why would we fight them? They haven’t attacked us.”
If all humans were as naïve as this one, they wouldn’t last long. “Not yet.”
He chuckled and shrugged his thin shoulders. “Why would they? They have Faerie. Earth is full of tek. We have nothing they need. The net goes up and we’ll be safe.”
Oh, so we should all be grateful that the Earthe
ns would be safe. The lives lost in Halow didn’t matter? “They wiped out billions of your neighbors, but you’re okay with that?”
His shoulders broadened with a sense of honor or pride or some other shit I wasn’t buying. “We have to protect Earth.”
“And Halow?”
“Halow lost,” he mumbled, his attention on his PI and Halow’s sacrifice forgotten.
I sucked on the inside of my cheeks to keep from voicing what was on my mind and shot the floating eye a glance. Earthens are assholes. “Halow didn’t just lose. The people, the cities, they were annihilated in days. They didn’t stand a chance. That doesn’t bother you?”
“You just said everyone’s dead.” He waved a hand, dismissing billions of lives like they were nothing. “Sol isn’t. We’re protecting our borders so what happened to Halow doesn’t happen to Sol.”
“Resistance cells remain. Hundreds, maybe thousands, of people need your help. Humans need your help. They might not be Earthen, but they’re still human. They came from Sol originally.”
Whitworth huffed. “The fae have them now.”
I snatched the PI from his hands and swung it like a bat, smacking the tek-eye out of the air. The little ball of electronic pieces exploded against the wall with a satisfying tinny pop.
“Wha—!” Whitworth’s exclamation cut off the second his PI smacked him in the head. He dropped in a heap.
I peeked over Sota at the fallen lump of teknician, checking that he was still breathing. I didn’t want to kill the guy, just shut him up before he dug himself into a hole that would get him killed.
I tossed the PI onto Whitworth’s groaning body. “You had it coming.”
“Hello, Marshal Kellee,” Sota said. His lens swiveled upward. “Are you saving me?”
“I couldn’t find a damsel, so you’ll have to do.” I tore the cable ties from around Sota’s casing. “Hopefully, you have a plan, because diplomacy won’t cut it.”
“I have a kill them all plan? Will that work?”
Prince of Dreams (Messenger Chronicles Book 4) Page 9