Marked for Pleasure (10 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Leeland

Tags: #BDSM, #Erotic, #Fantasy, #Science Fiction/Fantasy

BOOK: Marked for Pleasure
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His friend nodded. “I think when the Teran Four minister was killed, the other planets clamored for action. Halloway arranged the response.” The smile on Leo's face was cold. “It was perfect really. He controlled everything. I couldn't figure out how the Brotherhood always knew I was coming, always outsmarted me. Then I stumbled on Snath.”

“The Primarian?”

“He was an attaché, working with Sethos Five, when I discovered he had the Brotherhood brand.” Leo sighed. “It took me a month, but I broke him.”

“And he gave you Halloway's name?”

“No, he gave me Ancred's.” Leo focused on the stars whipping past them. “It's some kind of sex club. Ancred and Halloway have worked together to systematically eliminate political figures on various planets. Ancred plans to revive Sethos Prime's aspirations for the surrounding systems, and Halloway wants power.”

Conner's stomach rolled. The man betrayed everything Nyral stood for. Their whole culture was based on subtle power, the velvet glove over the iron fist. Raw power was rejected. The general wanted to change all that. “How the hell are we going to win this one?”

Leo blinked and met his gaze. “Chop off the head of the snake, and the snake dies.”

“This one has two.”

“No.” Leo shook his head. “Ancred won't do a fucking thing unless Halloway clears the way.” His friend frowned. “You must have been getting close, because he wanted you dead. What did you find out?”

“I've narrowed down the next two targets. Princess Sera from Placido and Ander Rylan from Teran Five.” It had taken him months to uncover that. He'd managed to rip the information from an assassin he'd caught and tormented. The Brotherhood didn't take what it dished out very well. “Ander Rylan was slated to be on the
Star of Pleasure
, but he never showed up.”

“That's because there's more than one
Star of Pleasure
.” Leo's hand tightened on the controls.

“What?” Shit! He'd forgotten his intel on the
Star of Pleasure
had been from the general.

Leo nodded. “There's a club on Sethos Five called the
Star of Pleasure
.” He pounded a fist into the console. “We were right there.”

“We can still stop it,” Conner told him. “We'll have to put off our little plan.”

Leo's gaze flicked toward the back of the shuttle. “You'll have to drop her off. It will take me a few hours to get everything we need.”

Conner nodded, his jaw ached from clenching it, a dull pain in his chest. “Okay. Thanks. I'll try not to be too long.”

“She's your mate, Conner. I can take care of the general. You don't want to leave her marked and alone.” Leo's bleak expression ate at Conner's heart. Damn it. He wished he could heal his friend. Conner couldn't do that for him. No one could. A Nylar male could mark once. Leo could mate, have children, but he could never mark another woman.

“It's better that she's alone rather than dead. Don't argue with me about this, Leo.” Besides, Rhea was beautiful. She wouldn't be alone for long. Just the thought made his stomach churn and his mark throb.

They didn't say much more as Leo worked the controls with Conner to land the shuttle on Elison. The planet was a busy trading center with everything from grack from the mines of Teran Four to sex toys from Sethos Five available. Their credentials were not questioned.

Rhea stood in the back of the shuttle. He realized all of her clothes, her possessions, were in the other shuttle they'd left behind. She had nothing, and he was leaving her on her own. His throat closed. He had to do it. The fight they faced had nothing to do with her. She'd paid a high price already.

“Ready?” he managed.

She shrugged, her face unreadable, blank. “Let's go.”

His fingers wrapped around her left arm, and the mark flared to life, a slight glow revealing she responded to his touch. His cock twitched. Damn, how could he leave her? He ground his teeth and faced the door. How? By remembering the cost if he didn't. The mating demanded he protect her. No matter what the cost to himself.

The silence between them was strained and awkward. He wanted to break it but had nothing clever, nothing reassuring, to tide them over the tension. It took all his strength to keep moving forward to the moment he knew he'd have to leave her. He used their time in the hovertaxi to study her, imprint her in his mind.

It wasn't just the lean, tight lines of her body that drew him to her. The strength of her jaw, the way her chin lifted when she defied him, the swirl of clouds in her blue eyes when she was lost in pleasure, all added to the dynamic package he mated. Any man would want her. And when he was gone, she would move on, touch another man the way she'd touched him.

The thought enraged him. His muscles bunched, and his blood pounded in his head. She belonged to him and him only. The idea of Rhea with another caused his mind to whirl.

He blocked the thoughts and focused on the moment. When he and Leo left Elison, they would be heading for their deaths. These were the last precious hours with her. And he was wasting them.

The hovertaxi dropped them off at a local hotel. The deskbot didn't flinch when Rhea checked in dressed in a halter top and miniskirt, with no belongings, no baggage. Still, she didn't speak and neither did he as they took the elevator to the floor where she would be staying until she could catch a transport to Corilus.

But between them, the air crackled and spit. Unsaid words—and unchecked needs—flowed like water from him to her and back again. By the time they reached her door, he didn't want to talk, explain, say anything. He wanted to speak the language they both understood.

She opened her door and turned to him, her mouth open to speak. He didn't give her a chance.

He swooped in and took possession. Her mouth was clamped shut, but that wasn't going to stop him. He slapped the door shut and backed her into the room. Caution forgotten, he dominated her, forcing her mouth open and thrusting his tongue inside. God, he needed her, wanted her. His mark ached, begging to be touched by her seeking fingers.

But her hands were on his shoulders trying to push him away. He tore his mouth away and stared at her. Apparently she demanded his words. Fine. He would give them to her.

In a voice like a growl, he said, “You are my mate, and I am yours forever.” Irrevocable words hovered on his lips, but he held them back. His heart clenched. Much of him wanted to say them, throw caution to the winds, open his heart and his soul to her. But when he didn't come back, what would that do to her? Still, he couldn't help it. He stroked the mark on her arm. “And you are mine. Do you hear me?” He glared at her. “You belong to me.”

She trembled in his arms, her eyes wide. Her tongue scraped over her lips, and he followed it hungrily. Then he met her gaze. “Surrender,” he demanded.

Her eyes narrowed. “No.”

A challenge. “I am your master.”

“Prove it,” she demanded, her jaw set and her eyes sparkling.

He nodded. “My pleasure.”

The energy between them gathered, and he soaked it up like a sponge. He had a million things he wanted to do. To master her, however, he had to master himself.

He stepped away from her and grinned when her eyes blinked rapidly. “Take your clothes off, Rhea.”

She glared at him. He smiled. She wanted punishment. He didn't have his bag, but he could improvise with the best of them. He glanced around the room and found a small, clear statue of a mermaid on the table by the couch. Made on Sethos Blue. His fingers glided over the surface. It was cool, smooth, and unbreakable glass. That would work. A long cord hung from the drapes over the windows in the room. The hotel room was Earth retro, and Conner knew he'd find many items he could use.

Rhea hadn't moved but watched his fingers as he caressed the mermaid statue. He wondered if she had any idea how he planned on using it. He strode across the room and yanked with all his strength on the drape cords. The curtains tumbled down, and natural light flooded the room. He ripped the soft strings from the drapes and wrapped them around his wrists.

Her eyes widened. Conner saw realization of his intentions on her face. He noted her muscles tightened, but her breath quickened and the mark glowed. He picked up the statue and stalked toward her. There would be no escape. She belonged to him, and he was going to prove it. And he wasn't going to let her come until she shouted it.

He blocked her path to the door to the corridor and saw her gaze flick to the bedroom door. That's where he wanted her anyway.

Suddenly she burst toward the bedroom, sprinting like a gazelle. He leaped and caught her around the waist, loving the way she tried to pummel him. Her fight made his cock harden and his chest tighten.

He tackled her, shoving her into the bedroom, and fell on top of her as they hit the bed. She clawed him, her nails scoring his neck. But she didn't seem afraid. She seemed…feral. God, what a sight. Her breasts heaved, her skin glowed, and her eyes sparkled like sapphires.

She tried to squirm away from him, but he managed to capture her wrists and tie them to the bedposts, one left, one right. He left some slack so he would be just out of reach of those vicious little claws. She fought, her feet lifting to kick him, but he caught her ankle and jerked it to the end of the bed.

Her breath hitched as he incapacitated her with the last cord and stepped back to survey his handiwork. Her leather skirt had ridden up to give him a glimpse of her pussy, wet and waiting. The halter top barely covered her torso. A nipple peeked out from the askew neckline. He leaned down and nibbled on the tempting flesh, and she gasped. He sucked on her nipple, rolling it in his mouth.

Her stillness communicated more than any moans could have. He would have her soon. But first, he had to punish her.

He released her tit and held her gaze as he untied the halter top and yanked it down. Now she was exposed except for the small strips of material from her skirt and the top. Her breasts were taut, hard, tantalizing. Her pussy showed her body had surrendered even if her mind hadn't.

Yet.

“Untie me, you prick.” Her voice was low and husky.

“All you have to do is admit I'm your master, and I will untie you.”

Her chin jutted out the way he loved. “I won't. Ever.”

A flush spread over her chest as he studied her beautiful body. “I think you will.” He met her gaze and held up the glass statue. “Watch.”

She blinked and shifted. The end of the glass statue was rounded, the head a gentle tip like a dildo. But it widened at the mermaid's shoulders. He nodded at her silent question. “You're going to take all of this.”

“Conner—”

“All of it,” he snapped.

He slid the tip of the statue inside her pussy, and she clenched, her breath caught. He loved the way the glass became a milky color from her sweet cream. Without a thought, he indulged in the one thing he'd been fantasizing about since they'd left the Primarian ship. He dipped between her legs and flicked her clit with his tongue.

When he had sucked her before, hundreds watched. He hadn't been able to savor it, enjoy it. Now, he worked her pussy with the glass mermaid while his tongue swirled around her hot nub. He loved the way she tasted and the sound of her strangled cries as she tried not to give him her moans. He growled against her mound and moved faster. The glass statue slid easier now, her wet channel responding to his torment.

His free hand cupped her ass, and his fingers sought the tight entrance he planned to enjoy. Just the thought of slamming his cock into her ass sent his cock straining against his pants. But first, she would beg him. First, she would call him “Master.”

Her hips were frantic, deepening his thrusts of the statue inside her. His finger rimmed her tight hole, and she cried out. He glanced up and reveled in the way her eyes were shut, her lip between her teeth, and the way her marked glowed a fiery red.

She was close, her pussy sucking the glass statue harder. He watched for the telltale clench of her muscles and jerked it out.

This time, her cry was of frustration. He lifted his mouth and stared at her. “What am I, Rhea?”

“Please, Conner,” she sobbed, and her body twisted beneath him. “Please. I need—”

“I can give you what you need,” he whispered. “But first, tell me what I am.”

Her head thrashed back and forth. He slipped the statue back in, only the very tip of it, and she strained against the cords. He avoided her arched hips, his cock aching to ease her torture and his. But she had to admit what her body already knew.

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