Primal Heat (18 page)

Read Primal Heat Online

Authors: Crystal Jordan

BOOK: Primal Heat
2.02Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

The door to her quarters opened for him, and he saw her sitting in a chair, her bare feet propped on the window as she stared out at the fleet of battleships. “Hello, Farid.”


Khalaa
.” He closed the door behind him but moved no farther into the room.

The gown she wore clasped at one shoulder and left the other arm bare. It was odd seeing her in the kind of
rishaami
garment worn by Sueni women. To him, she was everything that was good about Earth, that was nothing like Suen. She rolled her head on the back of the chair and shot him a glance. The blue sheen on the green fabric complemented her eyes, and her dark hair hung in thick waves down to her waist. The sight of her kicked him in the chest the way it had for the last week. Thanks to Anun that she was alive, even if she was never his.

“What can I do for you?” She cradled a canister between her palms, and from the smell of it, it was
paayal
.

“Bond with me.” The words jerked out of him, but he didn't regret them, he couldn't. It wasn't what he'd intended to say when he came here, wasn't what he'd expected, but everything about her had always been more than what he expected.

She froze with the canister halfway to her mouth. Then she shook herself a bit, took a sip, and set the drink aside. “I don't think that's what you really want, is it?”

Anun, that stung. He flinched at having his deepest longings thrown back in his face, but he knew he deserved it for having kept the truth from her for so long, for being too cowardly to face his fears. “Perhaps it's you who doesn't want it.”

“I told you I love you.” Pain reflected in her eyes at those words—because she'd said anything to him or because he hadn't responded in kind? He wasn't sure. The bond that would once have told him was almost gone, and the beast inside him writhed in agony at the lack.

“Love and bonding…those are different things.” She'd once told him such a bond was the most horrifying thing she could imagine, and a part of him wondered if a woman as fiercely independent as she was could ever accept such a total sacrifice of self. He craved it like the sweetest, most potent drug. Growing to know her had only made the addiction stronger, sent its roots deep into his soul until he knew he'd never be free of her, even if he lost her now, he'd never be who he'd been before he knew her. But with knowing her came the understanding that she might never need him the way he needed her.

Her eyebrow arched, but otherwise she remained still, barely breathing. “Are they so very different?”

“Yes.” He moved toward her, wishing he could touch her, but knowing he should not. “One is to give your heart and soul to someone, the other is to give your life, your mind, your memories. Love is beautiful, but it can die if you don't nurture it. Bonding can never die, even if love does. It will eat you from the inside out if you don't keep the love alive.”

She tilted her head back to hold his gaze as he stepped within arm's reach. “You'd be locked to someone forever that you learned to feel nothing for.”

“Or learned to hate.” As his sister and her Sajan had, but Bren and he were different, and they could make their own destiny, as she would say.

“Yeah, that's going to take some getting used to.” She shrugged her bare shoulder, the soft
rishaami
shifting with the movement.

His gaze followed the lines of the garment down to where it cupped the swell of her breast. His body clamored, the beast clawing for freedom, reminding him how long it had been since he'd been inside her sweet, hot body. He swallowed, jerking his gaze away to meet her eyes.

A knowing smile tilted her lips. “I feel it, too. The craving.”

Craving, yes. A need so deep it consumed him, ruled him. He closed his eyes. “You're not afraid that we'll end up like Kyber and Jana? Like my parents? My sister?”

“I'm terrified that we'll end up that way. God, seeing what happened to Jana, watching the girl be tortured by psychic proxy?” She sucked in a deep breath. “I'd be a fool not to be scared. But you told me some things are worth the pain.
You're
one of those things for me.

“So, yeah, bad things could happen, Farid. Bad things can always happen. You've seen them happen firsthand and so have I.” She sighed and he heard her gown rustle as she stood. She moved toward him and he backed away, knowing if he touched her, he would be lost, and he knew they both needed to finish the conversation they'd started. When the backs of his knees hit the edge of her gelpad, he sat and stared up at her lovely, precious face. There was some small flicker of light, of hope in her eyes that was so different than the contained expression she showed the world. “You know how I grew up, Farid, how I've lived my life, what I've seen and done. Bad things happen even to good people. You think I don't know that?”

“No. Yes.” He shook his head. “Anun, I don't know.”

“We have to hold on to the best life offers us.” She cupped his jaw in her palms, and he leaned into her soft touch with a purr. “We have to savor the good times to shore up our defenses against the bad times.”

“How can you be so…hopeful…for such a steadfast cynic?” He'd been inside the woman's mind, loved her, and still didn't understand her. She'd told him she loved him, that she knew how to make the hard choices. Lesser species or not, the woman was far stronger than he was. She deserved better, and it wasn't the first time he'd thought so. But it was the first time he'd looked inside himself and demanded that he
be
better, be what she needed. Not for the moment, for whatever current crisis they faced, but forever.

He wanted to keep her, and he would do whatever it took to convince her. Even if it meant facing his deepest fears of loss, even if it meant giving up control, because he knew, no matter what, that Bren would never accept him controlling her. She wanted all of him, just as he wanted all of her.

“It's not easy, but I manage. I expect bad things to happen. Every day, all the time, but that doesn't mean I don't recognize the gifts I've been given or that I don't appreciate every single one of them. Like you.” She bent forward and kissed him. His hands bracketed her hips, and the feel of her warm curves through her clothes made his cock go rigid. Just that light touch had his tenuous grasp on his restraint ripping away. He jerked his mouth from hers, thrusting her away from him in a desperate bid for sanity and she rocked back on her heels to maintain her balance. That flash of hope he'd seen in her gaze sputtered out, and she dropped her hands, pain and confusion filling her expression. “I'm sorry. You said you wanted…I thought you came here because…I don't know. I guess you don't even really want the easy sex anymore, let alone the bond.”

“Easy sex? When has the sex between us ever been
easy
?” He caught her arm, dragged her back until she tumbled onto his lap. “I want to touch you again, but that's not why I'm here. I have to say it before you make me so crazy I can't put a coherent thought together.” He curled a knuckle under her chin and forced her to look at him. “I love you. I need you. I trust you. I want to bond with you and never, ever be alone again for as long as we both live—however long or short that is. I want to be the person who never leaves you. I want to be the person you can always depend on, who never abuses your trust. I just want you.”

“I do trust you. I never would have come to you if I didn't. I know I can rely on you, depend on you. I always will. You respect me even when you don't agree with me, and I've never known anyone who could compare to you. I
love
you.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and it killed him that his warrior woman would cry. Still he felt the unfurling of the link between them as it widened, as her emotions bled into his. “I knew that you'd go to your One someday, and all along some part of me knew that you were…mine.”

He closed his eyes as he felt all the tangled, wonderful things that filled her heart. Respect, friendship, desire, joy…love that would sustain him all the days of his life, even if that life lasted far longer than hers. She would always be the strongest, best part of him. “I am yours. I always will be.”

She shifted on his lap, straddling his thighs. Her lips brushed over his, gentle and hesitant. “I love you so much, Farid.”

“Show me how much.” He kissed her, took her mouth with a greed that he couldn't stop. He let his own feelings flow back to her, his relief that she could forgive his doubts in himself, in their bonding, his wonder that he'd found her, his endless passion for her, his feral craving, his deep love. The sweetness of it cycled back and forth, building, sharpening, but he knew it was only a tiny fraction of what was yet to come, and for the first time in his adult life, he welcomed that. He slid his hand down the back of her gown, the heat of her body warming the fabric. He broke away from her mouth, kissing her jaw, her ear, sliding his tongue down her throat. “Every moment without you has been a torment.”

“I want you, Farid.” She moaned, rubbing herself against him, her breasts brushing his chest, her sex hot through their clothing. “I want every part of you inside me, bonding with me. I want you to make that noise that's not quite human and not quite animal. I love that. I love pushing you past your limits.”

“You're the only one who can.” And his mouth claimed hers, his tongue thrusting between her lips. She answered his wildness with her own, raking her nails up his back as she jerked his shirt from his pants. His hands were in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat. “Tell me how you want me, Bren. Tell me you crave me. Tell me you need nothing else right now but my touch.”

“I do.” She sobbed when he nipped at her neck, writhing against him.

“Say it.”

Her voice was a barely coherent rush of breath as she twisted in his arms. “I love you, want you, crave you, need you. Right now. Please.”

The rough sound he made was the one she'd described, and he let the animal instinct guide the psychic power. He loosed the fetters on the feline, setting it free to claim its mate as it had wanted to all along. It had taken the man so much longer to catch up, but both sides of his nature were united in a single purpose now.

Bren. One. Mate. Everything.

He growled when she worked her gown up her hips, unfastened the shoulder clasp, and pulled it over her head. He palmed her bare breasts, chafing the tips with the pads of his thumbs. He sucked her nipples into his mouth one at a time, nipping and biting them as he had her throat. He'd take her a piece at a time tonight. Every inch of her would be his.

“Yours, yes. Every inch of me.” Her back bowed and she pressed herself into his mouth and hands. He hadn't even realized he'd sent her the thought, but he let the link widen further with every passing moment. It was good, right, perfect. She tugged at his shirt until he simply ripped it in half, his claws shredding it, and he threw it away. He wanted nothing between them. Her fingertips circled his nipples. They hardened for her and he groaned. She giggled, the sound light and young. Carefree. “And all of you is
mine
.”

Her nails flicked hard over his nipples, making him jolt and hiss. She giggled again, pushing him back until he braced his hands on the gelpad. Then she swirled her tongue around the beaded areola, sucking hard. His cock throbbed in his pants, his hips bucking. Anun, if she kept that up, he wouldn't make it inside her before he came. And he wanted her with him, every step of the way.

He let himself fall back on the gelpad, wrapped his hands around her knees, and slid her forward until her sex hovered over his mouth. The scent of her wetness was intoxicating. He couldn't wait to taste her, slide his tongue over her slick, swollen lips, and feel her come against his mouth.

“Farid…”

“Every inch of you,
khalaa
.” He kissed her there, and she screamed. He clamped his hands over her thighs, dug his claws into her flesh, and held her down. He felt her shock at the contact, it thrummed through the conduit between them. But after the shock came the stunned pleasure that made her hips arch, made her moan and sob. He loved it, loved that he could do this to her, loved that she gave him everything. He licked her sex, her passionate response to him increasing her wetness until it flooded his tongue. He sucked on her pussy lips, lapping at her sweet cream. He bit at her hard clit, and she begged in incoherent thoughts and words. Begged him never to stop, begged him to let her come. He stabbed his tongue into her tight channel and purred against her overheated flesh.

A series of high, thin cries broke from her mouth, and her pussy spasmed around his tongue. He worked her hard, then suckled her clit and purred again, deeper and longer. She sobbed, shaking with another wave of orgasm that broke through his mind as it broke through her body. Jerking feebly, she tried to escape. He gave her clit one last lick before he let her up.

Collapsing beside him, she shuddered. He rolled to his side and reached for her; she threw herself into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck to hold him near. He closed his eyes, his chest rumbling with a purr. His cock was desperately hard, but he savored this quiet moment with her, this eye in the storm of their bonding.

She looped her leg around his thigh, opening herself to his thrust. He reached between them and wrenched open his pants, freeing his cock. Her lips brushed his neck, and then she bit him. Hard.

He roared, the feline provoked, and he slammed himself inside her. She cried out but arched herself closer instead of pulling away. She wanted this, the feral side of him. All of him, he'd promised. So, he gave it to her.

Claws and fangs bared, he stared into her eyes as he worked his cock in her tight sheath. He let the animalistic possession flow through their link, the side of him he'd always worried would scare her to her very independent soul, but he saw only acceptance on her face, felt only love come through to him.

Other books

The Orphan Sister by Gross, Gwendolen
Arms of Love by Kelly Long
Wax by Gina Damico
To Breathe Again by Dori Lavelle
Secretary on Demand by Cathy Williams
His Majesty's Hope by Susan Elia MacNeal