Creed of Pleasure; the Space Miner's Concubine (The LodeStar Series) (12 page)

She held up the blade with an attempt at a smile that felt more like a grimace. “From your galley. Is it safe now?”

“It’s safe.” He came toward her across the room. He was flushed, his face damp with sweat, a smear of dust over one cheek.
 

His blue gaze was so intent Taara could have sworn a charge leapt across the space between them. She watched him prowl one step nearer, and that electric charge sizzled, sparking down inside her so that her pussy clenched and her legs trembled.
 

Oh, goddess, a moment ago she’d been beside herself with worry, having flashbacks and now all she could focus on was him? That was so … fickle. Even if he was the epitome of a warrior victorious, making her feel safe with his mere presence.

Anyway, this wasn’t supposed to happen—she was here to please him, not herself.

“The pirates are gone?” she asked. “Or dead? I watched you shoot one of their ships down.” That had been a thrill she wouldn’t forget soon. Like an action holovid, only real.
 

He nodded. “Got one, the other one had two IGSF cruisers in pursuit. They won’t get far.”

She shuddered. “They were so close.”

“Too close. Our surveillance system was shut down part way. That won’t happen again, I can tell you.”

She frowned. “How did it happen this time?”

He stopped beside her chair, held out his hand. She placed the cutter across his palm, and he put it behind him. In his belt, she supposed.

He watched her, a strange edge in his gaze. “Nikk suspects you may have had something to do with it.”

She jerked. “Me?” This was the only word she could manage to get out, so great was her astonishment.

He nodded, then cast a swift look around. “I disagree. But, I don’t know you, so I’ll need to do a quick scan.”

“You’re going to search me? For what?”
 

Indignation rose in a hot tide, sending her to her feet, the throw tossed aside. She put her hands on her hips. “I’ll have you know I am a law abiding citizen. And anyway, your own brother sent me here. And—and he approached me, not the other way around.”
 

His gaze held hers until he was close enough to touch, close enough that she could smell his scent, hot, musky male with a hint of some herbal soap. He smelled like the fresh, damp air blowing in across the valley, faintly of spicy shrubs and trees. Things she’d smelled only in an arboretum, or bottled in expensive products at the Maitresse spa.

She’d always enjoyed those smells, but never found them sexually exciting. Until now. And it was just infuriating that he was making her want him, when he was being a big, stupid, sand snake.

“Nikk’s an old soldier. He could’ve made a mistake. I do a scan, then he can relax, knowing it’s not you.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “Just do it then.” When he didn’t move, she held her arms out to her sides in a parody of helpfulness. “Go ahead. Scan me.” So he could leave before she hit him. Her hands curled into fists.

“Already did.” He held up one hand, revealing a small device with a blue light glowing from it. “You had any tech in here, other than your little work station, I’d know.”

“So, you don’t think I’m a—a pirate anymore?” she asked, glowering up at him.
 

His mouth twitched. “Never did. Told you, I was only doing it to settle Nikk down.”

He put the device into his pocket. But instead of moving away, he stood there, gazing down at her, his body still, face impassive. But she could swear that a storm crackled and thundered behind those blue eyes. There, in the flare of his nostrils, the clench of that strong jaw, the flexing of his powerful hands.
 

Realization slammed through her, stealing her breath.
He still wanted her.
He might have come to her room to search, but that wasn’t what drove him now.
 

Okay, so she wouldn’t worry about pirates anymore, she’d go back to her own mission here, and her very private worries. This man was more than capable of crashing her little world off its foundations, the way those pirates had tried to do earlier. She didn’t think he would ever hurt her physically, but with that intensity of his trained on her, he might very well get past her emotional barriers, the ones that shielded her heart to all but Daanel and Kiri.

And far from running to safety, she had to stay and engage. In the most intimate of ways. She had to invite him in.

He watched her, as if waiting for something. Right—she was supposed to be a woman so experienced that she could take the lead with confidence and élan. Lead him.

Oh, goddess, she hoped she knew what she was doing. Because she was about to leap off that mountaintop. Straight into the predator’s arms.

She tipped her head to one side, letting her hair fall over her cheek and curved her lips up in a little smile. Daanel usually rolled his eyes when she did this, but other males certainly seemed to like it.
 

“Maybe you should search me,” she offered, reaching for one of his hands. “Just to be sure I don’t have any tech on me.”

Chapter Eight

When Creed’s hand touched hers, Taara caught her breath. She hadn’t remembered wrong, hadn’t imagined the electric heat in these big hands. So much larger than hers and full of latent power, with calluses on the pads of his fingers, and parts of his palm.
 

He tensed when she touched him and then stilled, not closing his hand, but not opening it either. But she could feel the fine trembling in it. Two things caused that—fear, or the effort to hold oneself under control from some powerful urge. There was no reason a man like him should feel fear. A heady sense of power filled her.

He said nothing, but watched her face as she curled her hand around his and tugged, lifting it. Slowly, her heart pounding so hard she was sure he must hear it over her quick breaths, Taara pulled his hand to her waist, and moved into it, flattening his palm against her.

He took over the motion, his thumb and fingers flexing very slowly, then squeezing, testing the way she felt in his hand.

Taara stood very still as he lifted his other hand to repeat the motion.

“Nothing there,” she whispered.

He shook his head once. “Plenty here to keep a man busy.” He moved his hands up over her ribs, his thumbs nearly meeting in the front, just below her breasts. They swelled, her nipples contracting with the need to be touched. The only sound was their breathing. Oh, she may have begun this, but this force between them, this desire had taken on a life of its own. Her knees felt weak, ready to melt and drop her at his feet.
 

 
She braced her palms on his hard, ridged abdomen, her gaze on his chest. His snug shirt, charcoal knit that she was sure was lii silk, hugged every bulge and dip with faithful precision. His chest was ... amazing. Awe-inspiring, with pectorals that made her want to stroke them, find out if they were really as hard as they looked. Then she wanted to search with her tongue for the tiny male nipples that would be right there on the outer curve and suckle it.

“Maybe you’d better scan me,” he said, his voice rough. Throwing her offer back at her.
 

She gazed up into his blue eyes, still watchful. Waiting for her to take the lead. She’d had other males offer to let her have her way with them, but it had either been said in a joking way, or so arrogantly it turned her off, as if they were some sexual treat no female could resist. This man was both delicious and very serious.
 

And she was pretty sure that he was not only inexperienced, but that he had
never
been with a woman before. He was a virgin.
 

Her elation was tempered with a curious tenderness. She was going to show this beautiful male the pleasures of which his gorgeous body was capable. And he was going to help her forget other, darker times when she’d been helpless. Now she was in control.

“You’re right,” she agreed. Slowly she hooked her fingers under the hem of his shirt and tugged it upward. As she did so, his lean torso was revealed, first his abdomen, ridged with muscle, with two deep grooves slanting down his narrow hips to disappear in his pants.
 

Above, the widening brace of his ribcage, and the swell of his chest.
 

He moved then, reaching back over his head with one arm to grasp the shirt and yank it over his head. He tossed it away and lowered his arms again, waiting. Oh, goddess. She’d searched and found a great deal, all of it male.

His tiny nipples were a muted peachy brown, his torso a warm tan, fading into paler cream under his arms, and darkening at the vee of his throat and down his arms. Without cloth between them, his scent was stronger. She inhaled delicately and moved closer, lifting her hands to flatten them carefully on his belly.

They both sucked in a breath as she touched him. He was so warm, satin skin and hard, quivering muscle, resilient and responsive. If she were going to create a sculpture of a man’s torso, she thought dreamily, she’d use him for the model.
 

She stroked up over his ribs to the hard swell of his chest, spreading her fingers wide as if she were sculpting him. When her fingers brushed his nipples he drew in a sharp breath.
 

Taara looked up into his eyes to find him still watching her with fascination. “I can use any method to search you?” she whispered teasingly.

“Uh ... no teeth,” he muttered.

She shook her head in agreement, and put out her tongue to touch the corner of her mouth. He made a low, growling sound in his chest. His hands clamped on her waist, his fingers digging in hard. If she hadn’t been so aroused, it would have hurt. Instead, his grip felt like a claiming.

Time to stop teasing the predator. Leaning forward the last few inches, she pressed her lips to his chest, inhaling his scent and tasting him. Smooth, hot, delicious. Her tongue flicked over the curve of his pectoral, and found the pebbled nub of his nipple. Luxuriously she swirled her tongue around it, and then closed her lips on him and suckled gently.

He shuddered. One big hand came up to cup the back of her head, his fingers spearing in her hair as he held her to him. His other hand slid down to find her ass and squeeze. Pulling her into him so their bodies collided, pressing together.

His cock jutted against her abdomen, hard and rigid inside his pants. She shivered with delight, her pussy clenching in anticipation even as she tipped her head to kiss her way across his chest to the other side. But with only a few flicks of her tongue there, he clenched his hand in her hair, and pulled her head away from him.
 

“No more,” he said hoarsely. “Keep that up, I’ll come in my pants again.”

She shook her head, in complete agreement with that. She couldn’t bear it if this time was like the last. She had to have him inside her. The seven hells with being emotionally safe, for the first time in memory, she craved this male so badly she’d throw caution to the winds to have him.

Creed looked down at her as he reached for the waistband of his pants. “I’ll take off my own clothes,” he said. “You do the same.”
 

Taara reached to pull her own top up, her hands shaking.

He watched raptly as she drew the tunic over her head and dropped it on the end of the bed. Pleasure thrilled over her skin at the heat in his gaze as they fastened on her bare breasts. Then his gaze dropped. “Take those off.” He jerked his chin toward her tights.

She pushed them down, shimmying them over her hips. Watching her, he shoved his own pants down. His cock sprang free and she caught her breath, momentarily lost in admiration. He was huge—the thick column of engorged muscle rising from sparse dark gold curls to prod the air before him, the broad head already glistening with drops of arousal. Below, his heavy sac was drawn up tight against his body.
 

His cock jerked as he dropped his pants and kicked free of them. He stood, long muscular legs apart, hands at his sides, watching as her tights slid down her hips. Without bending, she kicked out of them, and stood there, bared to him.
 

Creed stared at her mons. Taara swore she could feel the heat of his gaze on her, zapping straight into her pussy. She shivered and reached to put one hand on the bed for balance as her knees trembled, suddenly weak. Ready to dump her at his feet, she thought dizzily.
 

She took a step closer to him and reached out to take his hand, tugging at him.

His face was flushed, perspiration springing out on his forehead and upper lip. He jerked his gaze up from her crotch, his eyes dazed.
 

“Lie down with me,” she invited. Though she did not try, her voice was sultry, inviting.
 

He blinked, then moved to the bed and lay back, head on the pillows, one leg crooked. “What about you?” he asked hoarsely. “Do I need to—?”

She shook her head, a curl of warmth at his care for her. “I’m ready.” So ready.
 

She put her knee on the bed, and crawled to him. Her pussy was swollen, wet with eagerness. She wasn’t as promiscuous as many Serpentians, but she’d had enough lovers to know what she liked, what she wanted. And she wanted this man.