Terran (Breeder) (13 page)

“Monto! That is cold.” He flinched.

“You’re a big, tough warrior. You can take it.”

His eyes glittered. “I think I will take you instead.”

She widened her stance to keep from pitching forward into the water under the force of the current and her desire. “Do your worst, bad boy.” She was proud of the sass in her voice. And grateful Mother Nature had departed for another month, leaving her free to explore her options.

“I do not understand these names you call me.” Marlix grabbed the soap and lathered his hands. His large palms covered much more area than hers could, and he worked briskly, efficiently, yet sensually, to wash her shoulders, her arms, her hands, her fingers, and…holy, fucking mother of mythological deities, her breasts.

“They-they are nicknames. Terms of…” She trailed off.
Endearment
, she’d been about to say.

He cupped a tit in each hand, his tug on her nipples sending zings of pleasure through her, but it was his look of concentration, of satisfaction, that wreaked the most havoc with her senses.

Marlix’s chest rose and fell; his own breathing, like hers, had increased. His eyes glittered with devilment moments before he released her and splashed her chest. She gasped, and her nipples, already beaded, tightened further.

She squealed with surprise when he lifted her and deposited her on the edge of the boulder. He began at her feet this time, using his soapy hands to massage, transforming ticklish areas to erogenous zones. Every place he touched seemed to be hardwired to her sex. A brush on her instep—a pulse in her clit. A stroke on her calf—a contraction in her pussy and womb. A slide up her inner thigh—all systems fired at once.

He nudged apart her legs, and he explored her sex, gliding over and between swollen folds, circling the hood of her clit, teasing the opening of her pussy. Need spiraled. He sought her gaze and smiled. She recognized payback but also serious sexual intent. Amber had darkened to caramel.

She shrieked as a wave of icy water hit her aroused sex. He grinned. “I can play too, Earth girl,” and she realized with shock her Alpha baboon kidnapper had bestowed her with a nickname.

But she had no inclination to ponder the significance, because he was fingering her sex again, baring her clit to the gentle flicks of his finger, rubbing between her folds, and then easing into her slick channel. His teasing strokes created delicious friction. She rocked against his hand as tension built, and ecstasy rolled toward her. She squeezed her eyes shut and flung her head back. “I’m going to come.”

An icy blast of water hit her sex. “Noooo!” she yelled, a string of curses rushing to her lips. She’d been so close! “Fu—” He cut off her words by plundering her mouth with a rough kiss. From his initial awkwardness, she’d gotten the impression Parseons did not engage in mouth-to-mouth contact. What he lacked in technique, he made up for with enthusiasm, and she lost herself in the touch, smell, and taste of him.

He resumed stroking her clit, and sensation climbed faster and higher until she once more hovered on the brink of orgasm. Marlix shifted, and she stiffened, expecting another icy blast, but she found herself lifted off the rock, and then his massive, hard cock prodded her entrance.

Impaled her. His fingers bruised her ass as he gripped her cheeks and thrust into her. He kissed her again, nipped and sucked her throat, bit her shoulder

Tara’s whimpers mingled with his growls as he pounded into her, and then stars burst behind her eyes in ecstasy. His cock jerked within her, jetting a gush of his cum. His bellow harmonized with her cry, and another panicked flock of fowl took flight.

* * * *

A day of surprises. Marlix extracted a thin blanket from his pack and spread it over the ground, then presented lunch—small slabs of meat held between two slices of panna.
Sandwiches
. A couple of pomes. And a clear flask of something that could be…beer? The big baboon had packed a picnic lunch.

Naked, Marlix sat cross-legged on the blanket and patted the ground. “Sit,” he said. “Are you hungry?”

Her insides melted into something gooey and soft. “Famished,” she said, not trusting herself to utter more than a single word. She armored herself by dressing first and then sat where he’d pointed. He handed her a sandwich and a flask.

“I had this the other night at an alerina. It is good. Try it.”

“Thank you,” she said, and took a sip. As she’d guessed. Beer. She eyed the food, the blanket, the beauty of the secluded beach, and then the man beside her. Her mouth dried. “This is almost like a date,” she joked.

“A date?” Marlix raised his eyebrows.

She sighed. Really, he should have attended more briefings. “In the olden days on Terra, when a man liked a woman in a romantic or sexual way or both, he asked her to go someplace with him so they could talk and learn about each other. Often they shared food together.”

“Oh.” He bit into his sandwich and chewed. After swallowing, he said, “This would be a date, then.”

She grabbed her flask and gulped down a mouthful of beer. In what galaxy did kidnapping equate with courtship? He’d snatched her out of her shop and had held her captive, and just because he slapped two pieces of bread together he assumed everything would be copacetic? But emotion swelled.
He likes me!
Her heart fluttered with the giddy pleasure of an adolescent schoolgirl crushing on an idol.

She stared at his handsome face. He had stolen her, hidden her, and yet his lack of pretense, his admission imbued his behavior with an artlessness that was somehow…almost…
innocent
by its ignorance. It was as if he held strong feelings for her but did not know what socially appropriate behavior was.

She should loathe him, wish for his actions to be met with a swift and harsh justice, yet when she delved into memories of her captivity to fuel her anger, she extracted the time he’d sought medical attention for her, his comforting her when she’d cried over her attack on Terra, his horror when he’d thought he’d injured her, the sexual pleasure she’d experienced with him. And now this. A picnic. A
date
. When had a man ever gone to such lengths to impress her?

Now twenty-nine, she’d become jaded before she was out of her teens, but through Marlix’s unfamiliarity with Terran ways, she saw the universe for what it was, still raw, inchoate, often brutal, yet filled with incredibly sweet possibilities.

Her relationships with Terran men had been a meeting of equals, partnerships in which decisions were carefully weighed. Permission requested. Courtesies observed. Disagreements discussed. Negotiations sealed with handshake kisses. Fair. Equitable. Boring. Sterile. Cold.

Even when she’d been with someone, she’d felt alone, had never experienced the connection or comfort that would allow her to let down her guard to share even a small measure of her burdens. She’d been a teenager, just a child when the death of her mother had left her to care for herself. She’d managed, succeeded beyond anyone’s expectations—but her victories had echoed with a hollowness. Tara didn’t want to become a kept woman, and damn sure not a slave, but she’d be lying to herself if she didn’t admit that there had been times when independence had seemed less like freedom and more like an encumbrance.

She pressed her fingers to her temples as if that could stem the heretical thoughts. She took another drink of the beer but found it difficult to swallow the ale or reality. Tara wedged the flask into a depression in the sand beneath the blanket.

She fortified her resolve with a deep breath. “If you like me so much, you should release me.”

His chest rose and fell. “I should. But I cannot.”

“Do you intend to keep me forever?” Hope and dread tangled.

“Forever is a long time.” He scanned her face. “Are you unhappy with me?”

To her consternation and confusion, she wasn’t. But one thing had become clear: if she did succeed in making a getaway, she would have to leave Parseon, because Marlix would hunt her down. She would be forced to abandon her business and return to Terra. Her adventure on the alien planet would end, and she would never see Marlix again. Tara didn’t attempt to fool herself that the former pained her more than the latter.

Was that why she hadn’t chanced an escape? Urazi didn’t watch her all the time.

You would have been on foot, alone in a dangerous land without money, food, or water. Without a good head start, Marlix would recapture you, punish you.

Those were the lies she used to rationalize her inaction.

“I wish you would allow me more freedom. I’m a prisoner in the cottage. It is like being in solitary confinement.”

He settled his gaze on her hair, her arm covered by the sleeve of the shift worn backward. “You would draw too much attention, raise too many questions.”

“You explained all that. Genetic mutation, the marking by a Terran.” She repeated the story he’d given to the Enclave guards.

“Sentries are not chosen for their intelligence,” he said. “Others will not be so easily fooled.”

Tara sighed. She bit into her sandwich.

“I will try to find a solution,” he offered. “What would you do if you could leave the hut?”

Escape
. Her chest constricted with despair as she contemplated the possibility. “I would walk. Get some exercise. Go to the bathhouse. Explore the Enclave. It is a region of Parseon I have not seen.”

“The Enclave is a part few have seen,” he explained. “I myself had not visited until I brought you.” He opened his mouth as if to say more but then closed it. He stared off into the distance. Bleakness descended over his expression, but when his gaze alighted on her again, that Alpha arrogance had snapped into place. “I will not release you. You are mine.”

Chapter Twelve

Marlix left strict instructions with Urazi to guard Tara, then departed the Enclave via conveyance. He pulled it off onto an overgrown lane not far from the tram depot, changed into his Alpha uniform, and reattached his insignia. Leaving the beasts to graze, he caught the high-speed transport for Loraq, the Parseon capital.

His PCD allowed him to communicate from remote locations with the subcommanders of his province, but he did not dare miss a High Council meeting of the Alphas. Though Protocol had calmed violent tribal rivalries among the five factions, nature and old feuds resisted eradication.

Marlix’s conversation with Tara at the river had given him much to think about. He disliked leaving her at this juncture, but missing a convening of the High Council could prove disastrous to his command. Heading off possible usurpation of his territory or curtailment of his power necessitated his presence.

He entered the columned soaring edifice of the High Council and strode across the marble floor toward the main assembly chamber. As he passed an open door, he was grabbed, dragged into the vacant room, and slammed against the stone wall.

“Bring her back!”

Commander Dak twisted his shirt, his face so close, Marlix could feel his breath. Anger ignited, and Marlix shoved at the Alpha, tearing his own shirt when Dak reeled backward. The other Alpha caught his footing and lunged, and Marlix leaped at him. Fists flew. Marlix feinted left, and Dak’s blow whizzed past his left ear, but another clipped him on the temple. A sharp pain lanced his brow and split his skin. Blood spurted.

He jabbed into Dak’s gut, and the Alpha grunted but recovered to target a punch at Marlix’s jaw. He blocked the blow with his forearm, but another aimed at his cheek hit its mark.

Punching and cursing, they pummeled each other until a series of blows and deflections stalemated into a wrestling clinch. Had Dak not kicked the door shut, a passerby might have mistaken them for two men locked in a filial embrace. If not for the blood spilled.

“Where is she?” Dak growled.

His opponent’s bleeding lip filled Marlix with triumph even though his own face had taken a beating. “That is not your concern,” Marlix huffed.

“Do you wish to cause an intergalactic incident? It is bad enough you stole her from the Bazaar in
my
province, but the Terrans will not approve of you absconding with one of their females. There will be ramifications.” The Alpha’s blue eyes radiated fury.

“Then why have repercussions not occurred?”

“Bring her back!” Dak bared his teeth, and Marlix understood.

His hunch at the onset had been correct. “You have not raised an alarm about the theft of one of their females because your diplomatic relations would crumble into dust.” Marlix pushed and sent Dak sprawling across the room.

The Alpha plowed into a table, then whipped out his dagger.

Marlix drew his own blade and dropped to a crouch. They circled, eyeballing each other. Their skirmish would end now. One would survive as the victor; the other would be left for dead. But Marlix wished neither to kill Commander Dak nor die himself. “You take our disagreements too far,” he said, preferring to settle their dispute in negotiation rather than a
dola.

“Only a warrior without honor would use a female—let alone one of another race—to strike at another Alpha.”

Marlix blinked. Dak’s insult scored a hit, although probably not in the way he had intended. Tara was no tool of expedience. “That is what you think?”

“What else could be your motive? You have denounced the Terran ways as perversions, sought to rescind the treaty. If you have injured the female, I will—“

“I would never hurt her.” Marlix reeled, wounded by the accusation. Did Dak think he was a monster like Qalin?

Dak lunged, and Marlix struck with his own knife. Daggers clashed like swords. Metal sparked and locked. Marlix stared into Dak’s furious eyes. “Do not force me to kill you,” Marlix bit out. “I mean no harm to the female. But I will not release her.”

“Monto! What is she to you?”

Clouds drifted across an azure sky, momentarily blocking the light beaming through the window and casting the room into shadow and chill.

“She is the day to my night.” The words tumbled out before he realized he’d thought them. Shame flooded him. Perhaps he should beg Dak to kill him. Kneel and present his neck. No Alpha would humiliate himself with such a slavish outpouring of emotion. And in front of another Commander.