Warrior (7 page)

“I did not think about that.”

“No, you did not,” Urazi agreed, and yanked up her shift.

Anika slapped at his hands. “Stop it! What are you doing?”

He grabbed both wrists and secured them against her back. “I am demonstrating who is in charge.” He tugged at her leggings. The double layer proved as stubborn as she was and resisted his effort to lower them.

Anika bucked and twisted on his lap. “You are not my alpha. Or even my beta. You are not in charge.”

Her words pierced his bravado to lodge dead center in his insecurity. He yanked her leggings to her ankles. Her buttocks glowed in the firelight like two moons, only pale, not violet like the one in the sky—not yet anyway.

“Let me show you how wrong you are.” Urazi cracked his palm flat and hard against one cheek. He struck another hard spank dead center, and she kicked violently enough to almost free herself. Urazi swung a leg and pinned her down. Much better. He let loose with a fusillade of blows to both fleshy mounds.

“Let us examine what you have done with your
choices
,” he taunted. “You abandoned your duty; you joined the Resistance against your Alpha, your
sibling
; and you endangered your life and everyone’s associated with you. When I rescue you, you defy me.”

A pocket of gas within a log exploded with a
pop
, followed moments later by a sizzle when fat dripped from the rodent onto the hot coals. The aroma of roasting meat filled the air. He could smell Anika, too—warm and female, inviting. His intent had been to chastise her for disobedience, for the trouble she had caused—he had not expected to find enjoyment in the exercise. His palm burned from the blows—probably not as much as her buttocks. Her skin had turned crimson, although he couldn’t determine how much of the color had been caused by the impact and how much from the reflection of the flickering flames.

He did not know when his fury had subsided—only that it had, and other, more powerful emotions had taken hold—a heightening of his lust and a primal satisfaction of bending her to his will and watching her flesh take on a colorful hue.

Crack
!
Crack! Crack!
He bounced several swats across her buttocks—just because he could.

“Please, stop! Please,” Anika choked. Since her initial shriek, she had muffled her cries as if she realized how sound carried.

He graced her flesh with volley of searing slaps. “Are you going to obey me when I instruct you for your benefit?”

“Y-yes.”

“And do you know what will happen if you don’t?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“This.”

“Correct.” Urazi emphasized his point with several more slaps then unpinned her legs and wrists. Anika started to roll off his lap. “Not yet.” He caught her waist.

She went limp, her compliance stirring disappointment tinged by guilt. The burning tinder crackled and popped. Fire heated and protected, but, if left to rage unchecked, it destroyed. Fire needed to be tamed. Clearly, the freedoms at the Enclave had undermined Anika’s obedience, and she had flared out of control. But had his harshness extinguished her spirit,
doused
the flames?

She sniffled, her tears doing funny things to his chest. He rubbed his stinging palm over her punished buttocks in slow circles. Anika emitted an unintelligible murmur. He supposed one should not coddle a person deserving of chastisement, but would it hurt to soothe her if she had learned her lesson? And one could not expect her to shoulder the severity of discipline as stoically as a male. She
was
female, after all.

How his thoughts would annoy her if she knew of them. For some reason, referring to her gender irked her.

He squeezed one cheek, and she uttered that hitching sound again. The noises she made, the feel of her skin under his palm, worsened the ache in his tumescence. Urazi clenched his jaw. From the very beginning, he’d been powerless to resist the lust she provoked in him. No other female had affected him so. But she belonged to Ilian.

He yanked her leggings to their proper position, flipped down her shift, and set her away from him. “It grows late. I believe our meal is cooked. Let us eat and retire.”

* * * *

Though his eyelids drooped, just as he would nod off, the cold would jolt him awake. The meager fire could not compensate for the chill seeping up from frozen ground. The bed of dried grass he’d stuffed under their mats had proven too thin of a barrier, and the warming effects of the tea Anika had prepared for them before retiring had since worn off. It was going to be a long, frosty night.

The solution was clear; he did not know why he hesitated.

Such lies he whispered to himself. He knew the source of his reluctance with a certainty as solid as the knowledge morning would find them bone stiff and chafed from the frigid night. Anika’s scent, so warm and female, had arisen from her sex when he’d chastised her, beckoning him to cross the final line, to revel in crimes he’d resisted until now. So strong her allure, he did not trust himself.

But was honor worth the price of death caused by hypothermia?

Perhaps if he pretended to be strong, he could
be
strong. He wore alpha clothing, had affected the posture of a male of status—had fought and killed. The skirmish had been in defense of a female and not in a battle that counted, but he, a
beta
, had triumphed over an alpha, most likely one of a Commander’s elites.

For days, he had surveyed the camp, concealed in foliage. That morning, he’d observed the teams leave then followed as Grogan had led Anika into the field. What a sharp eye and steady hand she had. She’d shamed the alpha’s pathetic marksmanship. Urazi recognized none better than she. If not for her gender, Anika could have served as a sniper in an Alpha’s guard force.

But her slenderness could not compete with Grogan’s stout brawn. His blow had felled her like a pome knocked from a tree. Rage had propelled Urazi from his concealment in the brush. If he could kill Grogan again, he would. Anger still simmered.

That was not all that burned. How he could feel such concupiscence when he was so chilled by the frozen ground defied explanation. Urazi inhaled.
Strength.
You can overcome this.

If he didn’t succumb to hypothermia first. “Are you asleep?” he whispered.

“N-n-no.”

Her clicking teeth cinched his decision. Urazi flung back his covering, rolled over, and tugged at Anika’s. She had wrapped it around herself tighter than the cocoon around a larval
whisperfly
. He nudged her. “G-get up.” His teeth had begun to chatter as soon as the full force of the chill hit his unclad body. They’d been foolish to disrobe.

“It’s c-c-cold,” she protested.

“I intend to remedy that.”

Anika staggered to her feet still swaddled.

Urazi lifted her mat to place the dried grass from his bedding on top of her straw then covered the makeshift insulation with her mat and his, before layering their discarded uniforms on top.

“Lie d-d-down,” he said, so cold now, even lust had abated. He tossed another log on the fire.

Anika scurried onto the mat. He made her unwrap then lay beside her and drew her covering and his over them both. He pulled her body into the curve of his so her spine pressed to his chest. They both shivered, but already he could tell the difference the extra padding made. He did not feel the winter seeping up from the ground.

Gradually, their tremors ceased, and warmth spread. Anika emitted a sigh and hugged his arm. But with comfort came
dis
comfort, her soft, yielding body reigniting lust. Urazi squeezed his eyelids tight as his manhood swelled. His fear had come to pass.

In the cradle of his hips, her buttocks fit perfectly, and his increasing erection settled between them. He remembered the redness of her skin after the chastisement. Did he imagine her fleshy moons now seemed to radiate a greater heat than the rest of her? Imagine that her female smell teased his senses? He opened his eyes and stared at flickering shadows from the firelight.

She belongs to Ilian
.

A beta would never
contemplate
encroaching on an Alpha’s claim. And he wanted much more than that.

Anika squirmed. No doubt she could feel his manhood. She’d never objected in the past, nay, had sought him out, but perhaps she had come to her senses.

“Stay here,” he growled, and tightened his arms. “We have no choice but to use each other to ward off the chill.”

“That is what I am trying to do,” she replied. “My back is warm, but my front feels the cold.”

Urazi relaxed his hold, and allowed her to turn. She pressed her mammary glands against his chest and wiggled a leg between his thighs. He did not notice an appreciable difference in temperature between her front and back. Wherever she touched him, her skin seared his. Engorged, his manhood was trapped against the heated softness of her abdomen.

She purred like a
feleen
. “Mm. This is better.”

Surely not.

“I missed you.” She curled her fingertips into his chest, splayed the other hand against his back, and rubbed.

He hadn’t
missed
her. He’d ached for her, hungered for her, yearned for her, feared with near desperation she might have fallen victim to some tragedy. Until he’d run into Icor and Hoari, he’d despaired of finding her. When he’d sighted her in the Qalin’s secret military camp, he could hardly believe his eyes.

“You should not have run off,” he chided. But if she hadn’t, she would be with Ilian now.

“Let us not talk about that,” she replied and ignited a trail of fire by smoothing her hand from his shoulder to his buttocks.

“All right.” Feigning a stretch, he brushed his cheek against her head. Strands of her hair whispered across his skin, clung to the bristled growth on his chin.

Anika snuggled her face into his neck. Memories of her joy at seeing him, of their mouths meeting, their tongues dancing brought a wave of shame—and desire. If he shifted....

She flicked her tongue against his neck. Urazi jerked. “What are doing?”

“Trying to stay warm.”

“By licking me?”

“You did not like it?”

Too much.

She trailed her lips across his throat, a fluttery brush like flower petals falling on his skin. Maddening in its elusiveness. He cupped her head and trapped her face at the crook where neck met shoulder. Her exhalations caressed his flesh moments before her breath hitched, and then Anika parted her lips and sucked.

A groan of pure, decadent pleasure erupted from his throat. Tendrils of sensation wound the length of his body to encircle the base of his manhood. She took his shudder, his involuntary utterance, as encouragement to suck and nip more.

His raised her face, and then they were mashing lips, twining tongues, and clashing teeth as if they had a lifetime of hunger to appease. Perhaps they did.

For sure he had never tasted a nectar as sweet as her mouth, never abandoned himself so thoroughly to lust. She moaned into his mouth, and he plundered deeper, slow and fast, hard and soft.

They rolled. Anika lay supine; he loomed over her. All the better to press lips, he discovered.

From her mouth, he grazed her smooth jawline to an ear as small and whorled as a shell from the sea. He traced the rim and sucked on the lobe. Her head lolled back; her vulnerable neck beckoned. In all their nighttime clandestine encounters, he had not appreciated the softness of her skin. He had been too rushed, too fearful of exposure, too preoccupied with taking
his
pleasure. He kissed and nipped her throat the way she had done to him, and she moaned.

He smiled. He knew just how she felt.

As he gave rein to his need, his body took command. His hands found their way to her breasts to cup and squeeze, to pinch the hard tips. He listened for signs of distress, but her whimpers sounded more like bliss. He knew that feeling, too. Pleasure had become an appetite to be indulged.

He captured a pebbled nipple and sucked hard. She arched with a keening cry.

Urazi lifted his head. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, but I felt it…here.” Anika moved her hand low on her abdomen. “And here.” She touched herself between her legs. “You do not need to stop.”

Encouraged, he lowered his head and drew on the other nipple. Anika threaded her fingers in his hair, twisting and tugging, sending a pleasurable jolt to his manhood. He sucked harder, and she moaned. He smoothed his palm low on her abdomen. “Do you still feel the sensation here?”

“Yes.”

He slid his hand between her legs. “A-and here?” In all his debauchery, he’d never crossed the line and touched a female there.

“Yes, there especially.” Anika parted her thighs wider.

Urazi heart pulsed in his throat. Her eyes were hooded, almost slumberous, but encouraging. Tentatively, he explored the flower of her sex, a delicate bloom slickened by dew. Unlike his, her sexual organ lacked hair. In his sexual encounters, he’d seen female genitalia, of course, but never could he recall them growing wet like Anika’s, which was producing copious moisture.

Seeking its source, he ran his finger from a small bud at the anterior of her sex, between her petals, to her channel. He pressed inside to the knuckle.
There
. So wet. Hot. Snug. He groaned. Her muscled walls squeezed his finger. How tight she was for one who had experienced the mating ritual.

With Jergan
.

Urazi yanked his hand away, and rolled onto his side, erecting a barrier with his back. Though no offspring had resulted, Jergan had mated with her, and Anika was promised to Commander Ilian. She would produce
his
sons. Urazi’s gut tightened into a hard mass, and he clenched his fists.

“I am sorry. I cannot control the wetness,” Anika said in a wobbly voice, misunderstanding his withdrawal. “I do not know why it is happening. It has not happened before.”

“Not with even with
Jergan
?” The question was torn from his throat by a need to know that was greater than his willpower.