Harry's Sacrifice (15 page)

To add insult to injury, Harry was gasping for air. The ancient had caught him at just the right place to knock the wind out of him. Harry could feel the bruises beginning to form.

One thing was for certain—Hara hadn’t been taking it easy on Harry. Not in the slightest. The other thing Harry had learned was not to underestimate the crafty old bugger.

A large hand appeared before Harry’s eyes. Harry’s gaze followed it upward to meet Hara’s blue eyes—so similar to his own.

“Sorry, kid.”

Harry took the hand and the offer of a boost up from the floor with calm good will. He’d learned to be wary of the ancient, but he’d also gained a new respect for the man who was his many-times-removed ancestor. Hara was a crafty and skilled warrior. Right up there with the best Harry had ever met.

“Are you okay?” Hara asked with good-natured humor in his dancing blue eyes. The old bastard knew damn well what had distracted Harry enough to have caused his injury.

“Fine,” Harry gasped, his breath returning.

“You let a pretty girl distract you, son. That’s what I believe you humans call a rookie mistake.”

“I’m only half human,” Harry corrected, unwilling to comment on the first part of the old busybody’s statement.

“That’s the half that counts, Harry. Your better half, if you want my opinion.” Hara’s gaze turned solemn. “Your uncle taught you well.”

Roshin came up to Harry and he could see the worry in her eyes. “Are you all right?” Concern rolled off her in waves. She was emoting more with every moment.

“I’m fine. Just had the wind knocked out of me.”

“You were doing well. It was impressive to watch. Hara’s skill as a warrior is legendary. He was the first Patriarch, after all.” She gushed a little as she looked up at the ancient with admiring eyes.

Having suffered bruising damage to his pride as well as his hide, Harry wasn’t in the mood to hear Roshin gush over Hara, but he said nothing. He just nodded at her words. Cormac met his gaze and gave a slight nod of respect that was much easier to stomach.

“Harry would have done much better had he not been distracted at the crucial moment,” Hara supplied jovially. Harry wanted to kick him but ignored the childish impulse.

“What distracted you?” Roshin’s concerned gaze flew to his.

Harry didn’t answer, merely holding his midsection and catching his breath. But he should have known Hara wouldn’t shut up that easily. The old bugger was feeling chatty, apparently.

“You did, my dear. Your burst of emotion knocked Harry’s concentration off just enough for me to press the advantage.”

“I did that?” She looked shocked, appalled and extremely contrite. The emotions were coming fast and hard now that she had them. It was clear she didn’t quite know what to do with them either. “Oh, Harry, I’m so sorry.” She looked almost on the verge of tears, and Harry had to unbend enough to comfort her. The poor girl had no idea how to handle the different things she was feeling.

“It’s all right, Ro. You can’t control what you’re feeling. I understand. And I shouldn’t have let it distract me. I was too open. I haven’t had to work on modulating my empathic shielding in a long time. Not since I was a child, in fact. Looks like I’ll have to brush up on that skill now that you’re starting to feel things so powerfully.”

“I’m sorry, Harry.” She moved close, touching his shoulder and invading his personal space.

“Really, it’s okay.” He touched her hair, loving the feel of her near him.

“You should probably drop by the med bay and make sure none of your ribs are fractured,” Hara put in helpfully, winking so that only Harry could see.

Roshin immediately insinuated herself under Harry’s arm, looking to support him.

Great. Now the old guy was trying to set him up with the Alvian chick. Just what he needed.

Not that he minded the feel of her soft body next to him. Quite the contrary. Ro was curvy and tall, though she still fit nicely under his arm. Just the right height, as a matter of fact.

Roshin insisted on taking him to the med bay, which turned out to be a small compartment near where the ancients had been sleeping for so many centuries. Percival helpfully led the way, powering up machines the likes of which Harry had never seen in the Alvian city.

“The
Zxerah
always had the best tech,” Percival explained, probably noticing Harry’s raised eyebrow.

“Some of this equipment seems familiar, but the Patriarch—I mean Ronin—has taught us that much of what we once had was lost or unable to be transported when we came to this world,” Roshin replied.

“Without this equipment we would not have been able to survive these many centuries,” Percival replied. “Thanks to the big man’s foresight, he knew what to pack when he left Alvia Prime. Much of what you see here was experimental at the time, and from your reaction, I suppose it never went any further.”

“It is my understanding that when the great genetic experiment was embarked upon, all other research fell by the wayside,” Roshin answered.

“A shame.” Percival activated a few more items and a table slid out from the wall on the far side of the room. “Hop up here, Harry.”

What followed was a far-from-routine medical examination, done completely by the computer. It imaged his body and, with Percival’s guidance, diagnosed a cracked rib—much to Harry’s surprise. Even more surprising, a thin pole extended downward from the ceiling and emitted a beam of light over Harry’s midsection.

“All done,” Percival said with some satisfaction in his words.

“Done with what?” Harry asked.

“Your rib has been repaired. Good as new.” Percy smiled at Harry as if he were slow.

“Seriously?” Harry sat up and rubbed over the spot that had hurt. He was surprised to find no more pain. None at all. Not even a little ache or sore muscle.

“Yes. Seriously. Now why don’t you go lie down for a bit? The machine promotes rapid regeneration in bones and tissue, but as a first-time user, you might feel a little woozy. Roshin, please watch over him for the next couple of hours.”

This time, it was Percival who winked at Harry where Roshin couldn’t see. It seemed both of the old guys were pushing him and Ro together.

Roshin took her orders very seriously, escorting Harry with that supporting arm still firmly around his waist should he falter. He didn’t need anything of the sort, but he wasn’t averse to feeling her warm body next to his, even if it was under somewhat false pretenses.

In fact, he wouldn’t mind getting even closer to the lovely little Alvian. It had been a while since Harry had enjoyed female companionship, and he’d been attracted to Ro from the moment she’d collided with him in that far-off hallway.

Harry was surprised when she escorted him not to the room he’d been sharing with Cormac, but to the bedchamber they’d agreed would be Roshin’s alone. He didn’t protest as she told him to stand at the side of her bed. Nor did he stop her busy little fingers from unfastening his clothing and helping him strip.

She was helping him with his pants when it became very evident that he was interested in more than just sleeping in her bed. Ro had bent as his pants slid down his legs to help him disentangle his feet, but she paused when she noticed the hard ridge of his erection tenting the underwear that was all that remained of his clothing.

Tanned, muscular skin outlined in soft white cotton tantalized her. As did the thick length of him she could see outlined by the fabric.

Roshin swallowed hard, nearly overcome by strange new sensations and a longing that nearly brought her to her knees. She wanted him in a way she’d never wanted a man before.

“Harry?” Her voice was a thin whisper of sound in the silent room. She could hear his breathing increase, as did hers.

“I’m here, Ro.” His answer didn’t provide direction, but it did reassure her.

She’d have to be more explicit in her questions. She didn’t know what was happening to her and thought maybe he might have a clue.

“What am I feeling, Harry?”

He chuckled and she tore her gaze away from his cock to look up into his eyes. She found humor there, but also a burning passion that matched her own. She could feel it.

The idea was so new and so…amazing. She wanted to savor it, but at the same time she wanted more. Oh, so much more.

“With empathy, I could tell you exactly what it is, but I don’t think you want a clinical description, do you?”

“Then what do I want?” Her voice was breathless.

Harry reached down and stroked her cheek with his hand and she heard the instant, ringing, welcoming Hum of their resonance. Suddenly, she wanted to hear that beautiful sound for the rest of her life.

“You want to know if I’m feeling it too.” Even more alluring than the elusive Hum, the deep tone of his voice set her already dancing nerves on edge—in a delicious sort of way that made her want more.

“
Do
you feel it too?” she asked, feeling daring. She would hate to be the only one affected so strongly and almost feared she’d be left wanting if he didn’t reciprocate these strange, new feelings.

“Oh, yeah.” The growl in his voice made her knees go weak. “I’m very attracted to you. I have been since the first moment I met you. The attraction only grows stronger the more I’m around you.”

“Truly?” Her heart leapt with excitement and that magical, crystalline emotion she’d learned was called hope.

Chapter Eight

Harry wasn’t thinking. He was
feeling
. Going with the moment. He wanted—no,
needed
—relief, and only Ro could provide it. He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to consider the implications of that all-consuming need for her and her alone.

Thought would come later. For now, he just wanted to forget everything and
feel
.

He reached down and cupped her face in his hands, drawing her closer. Their lips met and explosions of sensation coursed through his body. He’d thought he’d been hard before. That was nothing compared to the rigid alertness that affected not only his cock, but his whole body as he claimed Ro’s mouth in a kiss of possession and deep, deep passion.

He’d never felt anything like it before. He’d kissed her once, but that had been a gentle salute, a gesture of comfort more than anything else. This was different. This was a kiss that staked a claim, that let her know in no uncertain terms that he wanted her and he would not be denied.

But she wasn’t denying him anything. Even as his mouth explored hers, she was tugging at his underwear, freeing his straining cock. She pushed at any fabric that got in her way until he was naked, and then she grasped his cock in one of her hot hands and squeezed and stroked in a way that made him groan with need.

He pushed at her clothing too, unlatching catches and almost ripping seams in his haste to feel her bare skin and discover the feminine softness that waited beneath all that fabric. She had muscles, he discovered. A sleek, athletic build that was deceptively strong. He’d seen her in the gym. He knew she was a skilled martial artist and could move like flowing water—yielding yet powerful.

Like a tidal wave, she just about knocked him off his feet with her passion. She returned every caress, every lick, every sensation with one of her own until he didn’t know if he could take any more. She was so passionate. So adventurous. He never would have expected it. Her calm demeanor hid the appetites of a wildcat, and he marveled at the way she took charge, dropping to her knees and taking him in her mouth.

Harry’s head fell back as the sensations of her tongue dancing around his hard length nearly overwhelmed him. Damn. She was the best he’d ever had and they hadn’t even fucked yet.

And he would fuck her. He’d fuck her brains out and then he’d fuck her again.

He’d take her and give in return until neither of them could stand and his brain fizzled so he didn’t have to think about any of the complex, life-changing,
world
-changing things that were happening around them.

She was his respite. His moment out of time where all he could concentrate on was her—and their mutual pleasure. She was his oasis of calm in a crazy world that would only get crazier in the days to come.

And her mouth was making him crazy with need. He reveled in the sensations a moment longer, holding her head and letting her slide that talented tongue around him. Finally, he could take no more. He reached down and touched her shoulders, encouraging her to stand. When she released his cock and smiled up at him, he almost came right then and there. The look on her face was both angelic and decadence personified.

He scooped her up, lifting her off her feet and turning to deposit her on the large bed. Thank the stars it was only a few feet away. He was in a hurry. He needed to be horizontal with her, over her, inside her. He needed it bad.

Placing her on the bed, he almost laughed with relief when she spread her legs, making it obvious where she wanted him. There was no guile in this woman. No games. No coyness.

What she was, was entirely open. Needy and daring and…loving? He didn’t want to acknowledge the feelings he was intercepting from her. She probably didn’t know enough about emotion yet to realize that what they shared was need—not love. Not yet. It couldn’t happen that fast.

Could it?

Harry didn’t want to think. He just wanted to feel the purely physical sensation of her welcoming heat wrapping around his aching hardness. He wanted the sweet relief he knew he could find in Ro’s tantalizing body.

He levered himself over her, taking time to kiss her again, then he worked his way down her neck and over her sensitive breasts with his mouth and tongue. He wanted her to be as ready for him as he was for her.

Swirling his tongue around the taut peaks of her nipples, he reached downward with one hand to test her readiness. What he found almost made him sigh in relief. She was wet and hot and oh-so-ready. He wouldn’t hurt her and he wouldn’t leave her behind if he took her now. Thank heaven.

Working his way back up her body with his mouth, he met her gaze as he positioned himself. For some reason, it was suddenly important to him to see her face when he took her for the first time. He wanted to remember it always.