Rebel Heat (8 page)

She’d never met anyone who aroused her as effortlessly as Nazerel. He’d barely begun and already her body was wet and pulsing. “I shouldn’t.”

“You will.” He kissed her with fierce determination for one overwhelming moment then eased back, obviously waiting for her to obey his tantalizing command.

Cursing herself for a coward, she tentatively touched his tongue with hers. She couldn’t explain why she wanted him, why she
needed
the pleasures he offered, but she was tired of fighting, tired of always being alone.

She eased her tongue into his mouth then groaned as his lips closed around her and gently sucked. Desire cascaded through her body then coalesced between her thighs. She wanted him inside her. She wanted to feel his strong, hard body moving over and into hers. The thought made her wilder, more demanding. She dueled with his tongue and breathed in his breath, drunk on his scent and ravenous for more of his taste.

Always she was expected to be strong, detached and in control. Everyone looked to her for the tough decisions. If she hesitated, people died. She’d been isolated by her authority for the past fifteen years. She deserved this moment of madness, a few hours of pleasure that no one needed to know about. She would revel in the forbidden and then concentrate all her energy on escape.

His mouth tore away from hers and his passion-muddled gaze searched her face. “You feel it too, don’t you? The pull, the connection?”

She shook her head. She wasn’t sure what he meant, but she didn’t like the sound of those words. A pull toward what? And what sort of connection? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But she did. Despite her denials, her body understood. Nazerel was different than any man who’d ever touched her. Maybe it was just his alien DNA, but she didn’t think so. This felt familiar, somehow preordained.

He didn’t argue with her. Instead he kissed his way down her body, lingering over her breasts again before continuing his descent. She braced for the next phase in his seduction. He’d warned her of what he intended to do. Touch her and
taste
her. She waited for bitter dread to wash over her, clearing her head and cooling her ardor, but all she felt was the persistent ache of anticipation.

Energy sizzled through Nazerel as he kissed his way across Morgan’s silken belly. Her body was a feast for the senses. He’d never encountered a female more pleasing to the eyes, or hands, or mouth. His torso worked like a wedge, pushing her legs wider as he neared his destination.

He caught the back of her knees and spread her thighs even wider. She tensed and her thighs trembled. She didn’t want to want this, but she obviously did. He understood the contradiction all too well. He’d hoped to use lust to burn through the barriers created by the suppression collar. That was still his goal. However, touching her, kissing her, had unleashed so much more than physical desire. He felt protective and possessive, ravenous and restless, almost as if— No, he would not complicate this with useless speculation. She was an enjoyable means to a desperately needed end.

His body ached for the soft heat of hers and he had to build on that hunger, intensify the need until it consumed everything around it.

Shifting one of her legs to his shoulder, he spread out on his stomach so he could use his hands as well as his mouth. His chest was on the sleeping bags, but his legs rested on the cold tent floor. It didn’t matter. He had to touch her as well as taste her and he couldn’t do so if he was holding himself up.

He pushed one hand beneath her, pleased at how well her firm ass cheek fit the palm of his hand. She squirmed away from the intimate touch, which only brought her sex closer to his face. Her scent was intoxicating, clean, yet faintly musky, clearly excited. Rather than hold her open with his fingers, he gently parted her with his tongue. She moaned, tensed for a moment, then melted into the kiss.

Her folds were slick with arousal, so he ventured deeper, pushing right into the core of her desire. Soft, wet heat enveloped his tongue, and he never wanted to leave. He closed his eyes and imagined this same snug passage grasping his cock, caressing him with firm ripples as he drove them both toward completion.

The temptation was nearly more than he could bear. He had never been with a female who belonged to him and him alone. He’d just been granted permission to hunt for his own mate when Varrik kidnapped the royal twins, leading to the chain of events that had ended their way of life. Another injustice for which Varrik must pay.

Forcing the memories aside, he raised his head and looked at his lovely captive. Her back was slightly arched, breasts thrust out, and the uncertainty in her eyes was unmistakable. “You don’t like that?” He’d be shocked if that were true. Most women couldn’t get enough of this particular pleasure.

“What will you do if you succeed in freeing yourself from the collar?”

The collar. He’d all but forgotten why he was doing this. “If your mind is clear enough to worry about the future, I’m not trying hard enough.” He draped her other leg over his shoulder as well and lowered his mouth to her creamy slit. She gasped as his tongue stabbed into her again and again. They both knew what he simulated and that it only foreshadowed the joining they both craved. Still, she was right. This wasn’t about sex, wasn’t about pleasure.

With both her legs resting on his back, he slid his hands up her sides and cupped her breasts. Silky-soft yet wonderfully firm, the abundant mounds more than filled his palms. He couldn’t seem to stop touching them. Even so, he needed to focus inward, so he licked his way to her clit and began a slow orbit.

Energy arced between them, sizzling with potency and promise. He could clearly sense the metaphysical barrier blocking his access to his Mystic energy. Being able to sense the barrier was an improvement over half an hour ago. So he carefully sucked on Morgan’s clit, bringing her to a sudden, intense orgasm. She cried out and rocked her hips, pressing herself against him.

Capturing the rush of energy in his mouth, he carefully absorbed the molecules, not quite ready to use them. He reluctantly abandoned one of her breasts and eased his hand between her legs. She seemed dazed by the powerful release. Her eyes were still unfocused.

Part of him wanted to hold her, bring her back to reality slowly then give her what she really wanted, what they both wanted. But there was so much more at stake than their pleasure. If his men were in custody, and he had little doubt they were, he had very little time to intervene on their behalf and even fewer resources at his disposal. And the only way to change that was to rid himself of the collar.

Her eyelashes fluttered and she looked at him, all flushed and rosy. “Ready for more?” Before she could reply, he pushed two of his fingers into her wet passage.

She moaned and wiggled just enough to set her breasts in motion. Gods below, she was beautiful, and responsive. He shuttled his fingers in and out, watching her face closely. She licked her lips and tossed her head. Her restless movements sent her legs sliding down his arms, which forced her to bend her knees and rotate her legs out. She was sprawled before him now, completely open and accessible.

Instinctively he reached for her mind and for half a second he could sense her, the burning desire, threaded through with guilt and frustration. Then the emotions were gone and all he could sense was the steady rise in her energy.

He bent his head and found her clit with the tip of his tongue, then matched his oral caresses to the rhythm of his fingers. He closed his eyes and summoned his nanites. Their response was sluggish but accurate to the command he’d issued. They absorbed the energy he’d siphoned from Morgan a few minutes before.

She came again and he channeled her energy directly into his nanites now that they were awake and responding. Rather than give her time to recover, however, he drove her on toward a higher peak.

“I don’t think I can…” She gasped as he sucked on her clit. “It’s too soon.”

He avoided the over-sensitive nub long enough for her body to reset. Then he went right back to arousing her.

You’re using her. This is cruel.
A pang of guilt accompanied the thought, but he couldn’t stop. This was his only chance and lives were literally at stake. He was still relatively certain she owned the collar, but she was too stubborn to free him. So this was the only way, his only hope.

He flicked his tongue over her clit and she cried out, not in pleasure but in pain. Damn it. He was pushing her too hard, expecting too much, too soon.

Rather than abandon his plan entirely, he slowed the motion of his hand and curved his fingers so they dragged the front wall of her passage. She shivered and then whimpered. “That’s not fair. Most of my lovers haven’t been able to—”

With his fingers still buried deep inside her, he lunged upward and silenced her with his mouth. “You have no other lovers.” He kissed her again, less frantic, yet still seriously possessive. Then he hovered over her, his gaze boring into hers. “Look at me,
morautu
.”

After a moment, she did. Her gaze was cautious, though still passion bright.

“Who is touching you?” He filled her with his fingers as he waited for her response.

“You are.”

“And who am I?”

“Nazerel.” She licked her lips then added in barely a whisper, “My enemy.”

He didn’t correct her. It was a fact. They were on opposite sides of this conflict. He just didn’t give a damn right now.

Her arousal gradually built, so he increased the speed of his fingers. She moaned and started to close her eyes. “No. Look at me. Share your pleasure with me. Hold nothing back.”

Their gazes locked and her energy spiraled around his fingers, sending zings of sensation all through his body. His neglected cock bucked against the floor as if sensing her energy and wanting more. He groaned and struggled to keep his own eyes open. He was so close to release. One firm squeeze would launch him over the edge.

She cried out suddenly and arched her back, her hips coming up off the bedding. Her inner muscles contracted around his fingers in rhythmic pulses. He was so captivated by the beauty of her surrender that he nearly forgot to capture the surge of energy. His nanites were ready however. He pulled the molecules through his skin and they siphoned the power with ravenous intensity until they vibrated with excess energy.

Would it be enough? It had to be. There was no other option.

Destroy the collar. Free me!

His nanites rushed through his bloodstream, ready—and finally able—to do his bidding. He eased his fingers out of Morgan and moved to her side. He felt dizzy and unfocused as nanites from all over his body hurried to assist with the attack. Sharp stings erupted all around his neck as the nanites burst through his skin. He’d expected that, but
damn
it hurt without their assistance defusing the pain.

“You’re bleeding.” He had no idea how Morgan had accomplished it, but she was sitting at the top of the sleeping bags, her hands still bound to the tent pole.

“Necessary.” Heat sliced through his flesh as the collar seared his skin. He screamed, unable to suppress the reaction. Pain stabbed into his brain and flowed down his back. Were they freeing him or killing him? He gasped then gagged as the stench of burning flesh filled his nose.
His
burning flesh.

One final protective instinct flashed through the blinding agony. He couldn’t leave Morgan helpless and bound. Crawling across the tent, he frantically reached for his pants. Balling them up, he threw them toward her and then promptly passed out.

Stretching out her arms and legs, Morgan barely reached the pants Nazerel had thrown in her general direction. His aim had been off and the garment had flown past her, colliding with the far wall of the tent. He lay in a graceless heap near the cooler and the smell of burning flesh lingered in the air. Was he still breathing or had his final bid for freedom cost him his life?

She couldn’t find out while she was chained to the tent pole, so she pulled the pants toward her with her feet, then rolled to her side and drew her knees to her chest so she could reach the pants with her hands. It took some serious contorting, but she was soon rummaging through the pockets of his pants.

Her initial search came up empty. Still, she didn’t give up. It was possible Nazerel had been delirious. He’d certainly been in enough pain. But he’d seemed intent on getting the pants to her. There had to be a reason he wanted her to have them.

She looked at him again, trying to determine if he was breathing. He lay twisted on his side, his back toward her. From this angle it was impossible to tell if he was alive or dead. If she didn’t find a way to free herself, they would both be dead in a matter of days. No one could survive without water and she couldn’t reach their supply from here.

With renewed purpose, she meticulously checked the pockets again. Nothing. Okay, so it wasn’t an obvious pocket. She paused to roll her neck and shoulders. Even hugging the tent wall so she could sit, this was an awkward position in which to search. Still, she refused to give up. She felt along the waistband and down the side seams. Finally, she rolled up the hem and felt for any telltale hardness. Her fingers passed over the tiny key so quickly she almost missed it. But she looked closer and found the slit into which the key had been slipped.

“Thank God.” She unlocked the chain, but left the cuffs in place as she rushed across the tent toward Nazerel. Without moving him, she held her hand in front of his face and waited for the faint brush of his breath to warm her fingers. He exhaled and so did she. At least he was still breathing.

She grabbed the T-shirt off the floor and wiggled into it then pulled on her panties. Her bra could wait until she figured out her next move. It was unlikely Nazerel had injured his spine as he fell. The man was solid muscle. So she dragged him onto the sleeping bags, covered him to mid-chest, then relit the lantern. She needed to find the keys to the SUV and get the hell out of here, but she didn’t want Nazerel to die of exposure before she could summon a team of Mystics.

But had Nazerel’s powers returned?

If he was only stunned, he could flash himself to safety long before she could figure out where she was and contact Lor. Yet if she left Nazerel here without learning the severity of his condition, he could die before she returned. What a mess.

One thing was certain. She was not going to put herself at his mercy again, not if she could help it. She unlocked the cuffs and adjusted the buckles so they’d fit his larger wrists, then she approached him cautiously. He hadn’t moved since she dragged him onto the sleeping bags. In fact, she could barely see the rise and fall of his chest.

She knelt at his side and waited for him to react to her nearness. He didn’t move, didn’t make a sound. One of his arms was already over his head, because she’d used it to drag him across the floor. She fastened one cuff around his raised wrist then positioned his other arm and encircled it with the other cuff. After locking both cuffs, she wrapped the chain around the tent pole then locked it down as well. If his abilities returned, he’d be able to flash himself out of the restraints, but she wasn’t convinced that he’d succeeded.

Curious enough to investigate, she took the key and carefully placed it on top of the cooler. Then she returned to Nazerel and touched the collar, gently shifting it upward. The skin beneath was blistered and raw. That had to hurt. She pulled on either side of the metal band, but it was still securely fastened around his neck.