Captured Rapture: 3 (Mercy) (6 page)

Yeah. Hate. That’s what I’m
feeling right now.

“What do you need to believe, Raina
Mynn?” He brought his head closer to mine, barely skimming my cheek, my temple,
with his lips.

I drew in a breath, and I’m ashamed
to say it was a trembling one. How did the insane man do this to me?

I let out a sharp sigh and shook my
head. My body still burned from the absolute rapture of our coupling and I—

Oh, who am I kidding? There’s no
way the word “coupling” even came close to describing what Torr and I had just
done. But that still didn’t excuse the lunacy of seeing myself as a giant,
iridescent, coppery-red dragon. I shook my head again, wishing I could see his
face. All I could do was feel his body pressed to mine, his long, hard desire
nudging my sex. Feel his warm breath on my neck. Smell his musky, somehow
smoldering scent. Taste that scent on my lips and tongue.

Gods, I was in trouble. Four of my
five senses were fighting on the side of the enemy.

“What is there to believe, Torr?” I
tried to make the words sound harsh. “You would have me believe I am some
mythical creature, a…a…”

“Wyvernian,” he said, his smooth
voice deeper than thunder. My sex constricted at the word and my heart rate
doubled. He chuckled. “Dragon shapeshifter,” he went on, his lips almost but
not quite nibbling on the outer curve of my ear. “Sometimes called
volitilis
everto
. Roughly translated—the winged destroyer.”

“Some mythical creature,” I
continued through clenched teeth—his lips had moved on to teasing the side of
my neck and my body thought that was just fine and dandy—“that the GU destroyed
centuries ago.”

Torr stiffened, his lips stilling
on my neck. He lifted his head and stared at me with unreadable eyes. “The Galactic
Union
did
butcher the Wyvernian. For no other reason than fear.
Slaughtered everyone but one small boy…and one tiny babe.”

I blinked. Despite the fact I was
still clinging to the surety there were no such things as dragon shapeshifters,
the obvious pain in Torr’s statement made my chest squeeze.

“And that one small boy has
waited,” he whispered, the emptiness in his voice gone, replaced with the smug
arrogance I’d come to expect from him. “Waited for that babe to find her way
back to where she belongs.”

“Kept prisoner in a cave on a
lifeless moon?” I offered, trying to sound sarcastic.

Torr’s lips played with a small,
entirely too sexy crooked smile. “In my arms.”

Mine to claim. Mine to fuck.
Mine to—

“So you’re telling me I’m centuries
old?” I swallowed, my pulse hammering in my neck, though whether my elevated
heart rate was the result of Torr’s statement or the thick dome of his cock
head pressing at my clit, I’ll never know. “I’m scaly and massive and ancient?”

Yes, I knew how absurd the
situation was. Two minutes earlier I’d tried to beat the crap out of him, and
two minutes before that I’d been screaming in the throes of sexual rapture, but
think about it from my point of view. My lover—who may or may not be a friggin’
flying space lizard—had just told me I was something killed off centuries ago.
What would you have done?

Torr laughed, the same relaxed
laugh that had so affected me earlier. It did the same thing now. Made me want to
laugh with him. I don’t need to explain how crazy the situation is again.

“Do you want to know the real
answer to your age, Rai’nia? Or are you just humoring the lunatic weirdo on the
moon?” His eyes sparkled with mirth, and I swallowed the unexpected urge to
blush.

“Shoot, lizard boy,” I ordered
instead, trying not to squirm beneath him. If I moved even an inch I would feel
his cock part my folds, and no matter how much I wanted to be filled by that
impressive organ again, I needed to keep my head clear. Not the easiest thing
to do, given my naked state and position.

He looked down into my face, his
gray eyes intent. “I can feel the years you have lived in your very soul, Rai’nia.
And I can sense the years you
believe
yourself to have lived, but
those
years are just a lie your mind clings to.”

I swallowed, my throat tight. “A
lie?” I wanted to stop this conversation. I wanted to cease the surreal notion
of discussing my age while buck naked and astride the most amazing lover I’d
ever had and just lose myself in his body once more. But I couldn’t. I needed
to know. I really did.

Torr’s nostril flared. “Female
Wyvernian seemingly age similarly to New Earth humans throughout their puberty
and adolescence, but their infant years…years of required hibernation…
those
years can last centuries.”

Centuries?

I gaped at him, incapable—or maybe
refusing—to digest what he’d just stated. I’d spent centuries
hibernating
?
As a baby? What the fuck?

“Female Wyvernian infants hibernate
for hundreds of years,” he went on, watching me. “Changing little physically
but growing so much in their souls, preparing for the fire of their first shift
into dragon form. Preparing for the heat of finding their one true mate and the
power of their joining.”

A blush did spread through my
cheeks just then, as the memory of my adolescence came back to me—tumultuous
days hungering for affection in the cruel prisons of the Galactic Union
orphanages. Nights craving the very man now staring into my eyes, craving his
touch, his domination, his desire in dream after dream after dream. I licked my
lips and swallowed the lump in my throat. Torr had been with me since I was a
girl not even old enough to understand what I longed for the most. What did
that mean?

It means everything you continue
to deny, Rai’nia.

I closed my eyes at his unspoken
answer to my unspoken question. Would I ever get used to this cerebral
connection? What the
shyte
was I doing pondering that possibility
anyway?

Torr waited, silent, as if letting
me wrestle with my own confusion, and I wanted to punch him for his
consideration. Or kiss him. Argh. Was nothing clear-cut and obvious anymore?

I glared at him. “So according to
you, I spent hundreds of years curled up sleeping as a baby? Just lying around
in a cave somewhere? Sucking my thumb? And then…what? I stumbled out at the age
of two, looking for a mom who was no longer alive, and the GU swept up my
clueless little dragony-self? Threw me into an orphanage?”

His jaw bunched. “I didn’t know
where you were before now, Rai’nia. If I had, I would have come and protected
you.”

My glare intensified. “Because
we’re the last of our kind.” Sarcasm dripped from my voice. “Destined to be
together.”

He drew a slow breath. “Destined to
be together,” he repeated, his exquisite body motionless.

I snorted. “Keep going then. Tell
me about what I am. About what, according to you, I’ve
always
been. Tell
me about the wings and the scales and the gravity-defying stunts.”

Mirth twinkled in his eyes again.
“Don’t you mean the gravity-defying fucks?”

“Get on with it, lunatic.”

He chuckled, and I felt the
vibrations all the way through his body into mine. We seemed to be sharing
everything now. Thoughts, bodily fluids, laughter…

“I do not know who took you as a
babe, I only know I heard your cries in my soul as you were torn from your
mother’s arms. I only know that I lay awake for many nights hearing it, alone
in the very depths of this moon. And then your cries were silent, and all I had
left was the memory of your tears.”

Torr’s statement made me frown. He
just shook his head and pulled me closer to his body. “For centuries, I held on
to the memory of you, even when I had no knowledge of whether you were alive or
dead.” He paused, his expression indefinable. “But as it turns out, much to my
relief, you were just in hibernation somewhere.”

“Somewhere…” I whispered, feeling
wisps of memories so faded they were little more than ghosts playing with my
sanity. A terror so consuming I thought I would die. A hunger that gnawed at my
stomach until I
wanted
to die. Cruel voices. Pain. The sounds of flesh
hitting flesh. Screams. And then an unfathomable darkness, a bone-chilling
emptiness.

A confusion heavy with slumber.

A harsh light in my face. Harsher
voices…

And finally, the GU orphanages and
the hell of growing up without any fucking clue who I was…where I’d come
from…where I should be…

“You should be
here
,” Torr
answered the question that had disturbed me for as long as I could remember.
“With me. ”

“A flying lizard?” I narrowed my
eyes, trying to look skeptical. Inside however, I was feeling all sorts
of…things. Like my body, my soul was nodding to everything Torr said, even if
my head was trying to tell me the whole story was a load of
shyte
.

He chuckled, a knowing gleam in his
eyes. He could tell what was going on in my head and heart, damn it. “A flying
lizard.”

“So, my mother—whoever the fuck she
was—was a flying lizard? And I was taken from her as the GU butchered my kind
centuries ago? For what? Being space dragons?”

He studied me with an unwavering
gaze. “Taken. Hidden.” His intense stare softened a little, and I mean a
little. “As our kind were butchered for being something the GU could not hobble
or corral or control. A species destroyed because of fear. Lost to existence.
Expect for
us
.”

I frowned. “If this is all true,
how come I’ve never sprouted wings and barbequed people with my breath? If I’m
a Wyvernian, why do I feel human?”

The thought that Torr’s every
ridiculous word could be true unnerved me and made my chest feel tight. Or at
least, I thought it did. It wasn’t until Torr spoke again that I realized what
“unnerving” and “tight”
really
meant.

“The female Wyvernian does not
reach her transformative stage until she has been claimed.” He paused. For a
heartbeat. “By her mate.”

I stared up at him, unable to
breathe.
Mate?
I mouthed the word, incapable of finding the air required
to make sound. Mate? As in, what animals do?

“As in, what the Wyvernian do,”
Torr answered, lowering his head closer to mine. “Bonded for life to their one
true mate.” His eyes shimmered green and his nostrils flared again. “As in,
what we have done, Rai’nia.”

Mine to claim. Mine to fuck.
Mine to—

He crushed my mouth with his, and
before I knew what I was doing, I was kissing him back.

I lifted my right leg and wrapped
it around the back of his thigh. The move spread my pussy, and with a single
stroke, Torr entered me. His cock stretched me again and I welcomed the pain.
Reveled in it. He fucked me against the wall, his hands never lessening their
punishing grip on my wrists, his mouth never easing its punishing assault on my
lips, and I welcomed that new pain as well. Someone wiser than me once said
there is a fine line between pain and pleasure, and they were right. Torr’s
fierce ownership of my body hurt like hell, and made me hotter and wetter and
more aroused than I’d ever been. I never wanted it to end. Ever.

Fyre’s tooth, neither do I.
Torr’s
voice slipped through my mind, smug, arrogant, dominating. Vulnerable.

He filled me with his shaft,
pumping its length deeper and deeper. I rode him hard, our bodies slick with
sweat, our tongues mating with fierce abandon, and refused to think about
anything except the way he made me feel. Pleasured. Desired. Wanted.

Needed.

He thrust into me over and over
again, and at some stage his hands left my wrists and found my ass, squeezing
each cheek as he took my weight, carried me across the room and lowered me onto
a wide, soft pallet, his cock still embedded in my sex, his mouth still
possessing mine.

Soft, dense fur caressed my skin as
I stretched out on the surface. The tickling sensation only added to the
delicious bliss consuming my senses. I tangled my hands in Torr’s hair as I
locked my ankles at the base of his spine—imprisoning him in my hold. Lifting
my hips, I met him mid-thrust, moving with him to bring us both closer to
release.

His hands raked down my body—insatiable
in their need to explore every inch of my exposed flesh. He dragged his mouth
from mine and tasted my neck, my collarbones. I shivered, my nipples growing
erect. He moaned with appreciation and took one tight little tip into his
mouth, suckling on it with greedy fervor. I moaned and arched my back, dragging
my nails to his ass.

“I have tasted your flesh for over
a lifetime,
chrye
,” he groaned against my breast, stroking its curve
with his fingertips. “I have been driven mad by my longing for you.”

He moved his mouth to my other
breast, taking its nipple between his teeth. Little shards of blissful pain
radiated through me as he bit the nub of flesh, and I gasped, digging my nails
into his butt.

He sucked hard, soft. Laved my
flesh with his tongue and branded it with his teeth. I writhed beneath him,
feeling his cock grow thicker, longer inside my sex. The wild sensation made me
whimper and I pulled him harder into my cunt, slipping one hand between our
bodies until I could cup his balls.

They were heavy and swollen, and
when I gave them a soft tug, Torr ground out a raw moan. “Oh fuck, Rai’nia.” He
tortured my breast with his mouth, his thrusting penetrations growing faster.
“It was never like this. Never so…”

Right.
The thought finished
in my head, and for the first time since we’d come together on the moon’s
surface, I recognized his fear.

Torr’s power and strength were
undeniable. But beneath the menace of the Wyvernian’s rage and arrogance,
beneath his absolute need for domination and control, his longing for me ruled.
The longing to have me by his side, in his arms. I was his destiny and he was
mine, and he feared losing me to the world, to the life I’d grown up believing.
He was the last male of our kind and he’d found me. In all the universes, I had
come to his, and found him in return, but he feared I wouldn’t stay. Feared I’d
deny our destiny.