Phantom of the Wind (22 page)

Kendall’s belly clenched and heat flowed through her lower body as she watched him licking his fingers. She could smell her own muskiness, and when he pushed up and slanted his mouth across hers, she could taste herself on his lips and tongue.

“You taste good,” he whispered. “I need more.”

He stood up and moved to the foot of the cot. Kendall pressed her legs together but he just laughed, bending down to push them apart, splay her open as he hunkered down at her feet and slid his upper body onto the cot, his mouth going unerringly to her heated core.

She gasped as his lips encompassed her. His tongue was playing havoc with her senses as he swirled it around and around her quivering lips, flicking along the creases, stabbing at the clitoral hood, circling it with the tip of his tongue. His warm breath against her vulnerable center was like a mighty aphrodisiac and her blood thickened, pooled in her loins. His fingers were digging into the softness of her inner thighs as he held her open for his invasion.

Quinn raised his head and looked up at her. “Do you concede your body to me, wench?” he asked.

“Never,” she replied, holding his gaze.

“Then I will be forced to make you do so,” he said, and lowered his lips and fluttering tongue to her heat.

Kendall strained against the belt, her hips arching as his devilish expertise continued unabated. He was laving her heat, licking at the moisture between her legs, thrusting his tongue into her nether folds and drawing from her gasps of pleasure that were rocketing through her lower body and along her spine. His fingers were creeping up slowly, gently clawing their way to her center. She could feel the short nails grazing at the crease of her thighs, touching the outer lip and pulling it farther apart.

“Sweet,” she heard him say, and trembled as he pushed one finger into her, his mouth claiming her clit, his tongue swirling over it. His palm lay upward, the heel pressed tightly to the junction of her thighs. He was stroking that mysterious place on the roof of her vaginal walls that always made her writhe with abandon.

“Aye, Phantom,” she said. “There.”

Sliding his fingers back and forth across that mystifying place, he could feel it beginning to swell beneath his touch. Kendall was pressing down upon his hand, rotating her hips as she pushed against him. He increased the pressure he was exerting, and his lady was panting heavily as she strained. Her hands were clutching at the restraint of the belt, her legs were quivering, her heels digging into the bare mattress of the cot. He could feel wetness seeping from her then she dragged in a quick breath, went suddenly still as she bore down and her vaginal muscles rippled violently—the walls clutching his fingers tightly—and fluid that smelled sweet like clover washed into the cup of his palm.

“Quinn!” Kendall cried out, her entire body shuddering with the force of her orgasm. She was writhing, moaning, for his thumb was on her clitoris, rubbing so fiercely she came again, then a third time until she began to beg him to stop the exquisite torture.

He withdrew his fingers from her and clamped his mouth to her moist heat, suckling her core as a scream of pleasure tore from her throat and reverberated through the cell.

“No more!” she begged. “Please, Quinn, no more!”

Her heart was thundering in her chest. He could feel the wild pumping of her blood through her veins as he pressed a kiss to her belly. He was rock-hard, his erection standing straight out in front of him, so painful he could barely take a breath. He thought he might unman himself before her if he didn’t have her as quickly as possible.

“Take me,” she said, her eyes on that steely rod. “Now!”

He put one knee between her legs, brought the other leg up to shove her thighs apart and stretched out upon her. He pushed his hands beneath her rump and lifted her high to position her against his cock. With one quick thrust, he was seated deep within her sheath, pressed hard to her very core. He was no sooner buried to the hilt inside her than his cock pulsed, a thick stream of cum shooting so violently he shuddered. His orgasm was so intense, so strong, and lasted for such a long moment in time, he was completely drained as he collapsed atop her, her arms holding him tightly to her, her legs wrapped around his hips.

“By the gods, woman,” he said, panting, “I may never walk again.”

Kendall smiled, soothing his bare back, trailing her fingers along his spine, down his sides. “You can be so melodramatic, Phantom,” she accused.

Sated, feeling boneless and depleted, he lay there with his head pillowed in the valley between her lush, sweet breasts, feeling sleep racing up to claim him.

“Do you forgive me now?” he asked, his voice slurred.

“No, but I’m getting there,” she replied.

He slipped easily through her mind and he saw the forgiveness there. He smiled, intercepting her desire to never mention the past again. What was done was done and over. He would not ask her for her forgiveness again, for to do so would be to raise the issue and it was best left to die an easy and painless death. Neither would he ever bring Shanee’s name into their world. All traces of the Amazeen would be removed from his quarters.

“Quinn?” she said, knowing he’d read her thoughts.

“Aye?”

“Before we lay the past to rest, I must tell you something.”

The smile faded from Quinn’s face and all desire for sleep departed. He raised his head to look up at her. “What, milady?”

She threaded her fingers through his tousled hair, pushing the thick curls back from his forehead. There were lines on his face that hurt her and she wondered if she’d put one or two there.

He shook his head in answer but remained quiet.

Kendall drew in a long breath as though seeking courage then exhaled slowly. She moistened her lips—watching his midnight blue gaze lower to her mouth.

“A year after you and I parted,” she said, “I went to Oceania on leave for a month.”

His gaze returned to her eyes. He knew whatever she was about to say would hurt but he had no one but himself to blame so he kept still.

“I met him on the beach my first morning there,” she said, holding his gaze. “He was on vacation. We struck up a conversation and spent our time together while we were there.”

“Who was he?” He had to ask. He had to know.

“His name was Riordan O’Shay,” she answered, and when he shook his head, obviously not recognizing the name, she relaxed. “He was from Sceirdiúil.”

“I don’t know anyone from there,” he told her. He was searching her eyes—his own filled with pain. “Go on.”

“He’d been widowed six months before,” she said. “His wife had died giving birth to twin sons. He was having a hard time adjusting to her death.”

“Not too hard, I take it,” Quinn said, and could have kicked himself for the petty remark.

“We were both lonely,” she said, ignoring his comment. “We were both alone and we made each other laugh.”

“Is that all you did?” he asked. “Made him laugh?”

She shook her head. “We became lovers. We enjoyed each other’s company but I think we both needed the other’s touch, the other’s comfort. Neither of us expected to see the other again.”

His heart was breaking but he tried not to show it. “It was just the one time then?”

She looked away from him. “No,” she said. “Unlike your one time. I believed myself a free woman.”

“I understand,” he said. “There’s no need to bring it up again.”

“There is more,” she said.

Quinn tensed. “What more could there be if you haven’t seen him since Oceania?”

She looked as though she would cry. “Two months after I returned to the
Sláinte
, I realized I was carrying his child.”

Quinn flinched, stricken by such news. “You had his child?” he whispered. Raw pain was etched through his words.

“I miscarried,” she said. She watched the relief flood his face but she knew he wasn’t rejoicing at her loss.

“I’m sorry,” he said, although he was relieved there was no reminder of those nights with O’Shay. “Is he the one who taught you Cengusian High Speech?”

“Aye, he taught me quite a bit and the rest I learned from a computer program he gave me,” she said. “How did you know?”

“Sceirdiúllian uses the same mother tongue we Cengusians do,” he told her.

“You had a right to know about him, Quinn.”

“Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me,” he said. He laid his head down on her chest, desperately trying not to cry. His hands were clutching the mattress to either side of her hips.

“I haven’t seen him since that month on Oceania, but I hear from him now and then. He writes to me.”

“That will stop,” Quinn stated, his words thrust from between clenched teeth.

“I sent word to him before I left the
Sláinte
that I would no longer answer his letters and I told him why,” she said.

“He knows about me?”

“Aye. The message was timed to be sent long after I was transported to the
Lhong Shee
.”

Kendall let her memories of O’Shay drift away, vowing never to mention them again. She stroked her lover’s hair. “Are you sleepy?”

“I’m tired, but this isn’t going to make a comfortable resting place for either of us,” he said. All vestiges of sleep had fled his troubled mind. “I’ll need to ask Shannon or Douglas if we can trade quarters until I can get mine redone.” He pushed himself off her and bent over to retrieve his britches.

“What am I going to wear?” she asked. She shrugged off the remains of her torn bra. “I can’t go wandering through your ship in just my uniform pants.”

He snagged his shirt from the floor and handed it to her with a sad smile.

She recognized the hurt flitting across his face. “Do you want to talk about this some more?”

“No,” he said quickly with a vigorous shake of his head. “Never again,
Lhiannan
.”

“All right,” she agreed, shrugging into his shirt and buttoning it slowly.

There was a sound out in the corridor and Quinn stepped out of the cell. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

Kendall recognized Shannon’s voice.

“We’ve been boarded by a raiding party, Cap’n!” the navigational officer stated.

Chapter Eight

0822 CMT

The bridge had been overrun by tall ebony-skinned men with broad shoulders shrouded with thick animal skins, oiled, naked chests adorned with brightly colored beads and breechclouts of rawhide that gave them a frightening appearance. Each carried a strange-looking sword with a broad blade and thickly scrolled hilt.

“Ah, the captain has returned from his honeymoon, I see,” the tallest of the men said in a gravelly voice. He looked down at Kendall’s bare feet as well as Quinn’s. “I must have interrupted you two lovebirds.” He strode forward, his sword resting on his shoulder. “How could you tear yourself away from such a lovely one, Phantom? She’s a pretty little bird, isn’t she?”

“I don’t remember inviting you to my ship,” Quinn complained.

The leader of the dark men waved his hand and two large men standing close to Quinn grabbed the Phantom’s arms and held him.

“I don’t need your permission to do anything, boy,” their leader said with a snort. “If I want this ship, I’ll take it.”

“Like hell you will,” Quinn replied.

Munchkin made a choking sound and everyone turned to look at her as she sat beneath Douglas’ chair. She gagged again then deposited a dull, orange roll of fur ball on the floor, looked at it and then pranced off as if Dougie had been the one who’d done it.

“Is that an Elfinish?” the intruder asked in an incredulous tone.

“You leave my cat alone!” Kendall yelled. She started forward only to be grabbed by two more of the dark men. She struggled against the men holding her.

“Ah, the little bird has a sharp beak, doesn’t she?” the dark man said with a laugh.

“You never want to make an enemy of her,” Quinn warned, “and you’d best not mess with the feline. It bites.”

Munchkin hissed and dragged a paw down the air as if on cue.

“Oh I’m shaking in my sandals,” the leader quipped, and stepped forward. He lowered his sword from his shoulder and placed the tip to Quinn’s flesh. “How about you, Phantom? Are you afraid of
me
?”

Kendall’s heart was racing as she stared at the tall man who was pointing a sword at her husband’s throat. Gleaming black flesh draped over a mountain of a warrior with hard, obsidian eyes that bore into Quinn’s with not one single trace of compassion.

“Why the hell should I be afraid of you?”

“Because you belong to me now,” the hulking giant boomed, his thick lips breaking into a wide grin of pleasure. “I can do with you whatever I please.”

Kendall’s blood ran cold, the scenario was too much like that which playfully she had shared with her husband only a few hours before. Her heart was thudding in her chest and she struggled against her captors.

“I could turn you inside out with pain.”

“If it pleases you to think so, who am I to argue?” Quinn asked. He met the dark man’s look boldly.

“I could fuck you if I choose to, pretty boy,” the colossus growled.