Marked for Pleasure (11 page)

His finger slipped inside her asshole and circled the rim. Tears squeezed from her eyes, and she shuddered. Her hips thrust toward him, but he kept the statue just inside her pussy. He worked her, controlled her, held back everything to get her surrender.

Finally, she met his gaze. “You are Conner Mitchum, and you are my master.”

For a moment, he savored the power she both gave to and took from him. “You are so beautiful.”

His mark burned, desperate to connect with his mate. Still holding her gaze, he slammed the glass statue deep inside her pussy, and her eyes closed. She screamed, and he kept staring at her. Jesus, she was beautiful, a goddess, when she came.

He bent down and devoured her clit with his mouth. Her keening cry went on, and he continued to pound her with the statue while he lashed her bundle of nerves with his tongue. The taste of her, the tangy response, sizzled on his tongue. He barely kept his own orgasm at bay.

But he wasn't finished yet. Not by a long shot.

Every single one of Rhea's nerves was stretched taut. Her breasts tingled, and her arm where Conner's mark glowed was on fire. He'd mastered her, controlled her, and she'd loved every minute of it. She had to bite her lips to keep words from tumbling from her mouth, words of love she wouldn't be able to take back later.

The wave of pleasure receded. Surely now he would fuck her, finish her, complete her. Confined in the restraints, she couldn't wrap around him and pull him inside her body. She arched and strained, but he stayed clothed, stayed distant.

What a punishment.

She whimpered, and his head jerked up. He smiled, a wicked, slow grin that sent tendrils of heat crawling through her. He stood at the end of the bed and stripped off his clothes slowly, excruciatingly slow. She moaned as his cock sprang free, and he encircled it with his hand. He stroked it and kept his gaze on hers. A drop of precum appeared on the tip. She licked her lips, wanting him in her mouth, down her throat.

But he had other things in mind. The statue was still buried inside her pussy, and he twisted it, the ridges on the mermaid likeness sliding over a spot that sent lava flowing through her veins. So close. She was so close.

Suddenly he released her ankles. He yanked her down, the cords around her wrists taut with no slack, her arms stretched over her head. He knelt on the bed, her ankles by his ears, her ass half off the bed. His fingers guided the statue in a rhythmic pattern that kept her on edge but didn't shove her over. His cock pressed against her ass. He removed the statue and thrust three fingers into her pussy. She moaned and rotated her hips to deepen his penetration. He slid his hand out and slathered her tight asshole with her cum, his fingers coating her. The statue was back, and she thrashed, squirmed, but he held her still, his body an immovable wall.

He thrust the statue all the way in and held it there, right on the sensitive spot inside her pussy. Her orgasm washed over her like a steamroller. She exploded into a million pieces. He slid his cock inside her ass, the burning, the pain, somehow combining with her overwhelming pleasure to extend her spasms.

Buried so deep in her ass she could feel his balls against her skin, he bent down, stretching her legs. His abs held the glass mermaid in place, and his cock moved in slow, languid strokes. She thrust back. More. She wanted more. She wanted his cum inside her. She wanted him to slam her in the ass the way he pounded her pussy with the mermaid. “Use me, Master.”

His mouth hovered over hers, and he whispered, “You feel so good, so hot, Rhea, my mate.” And his hips frantically thrust his cock hard inside her ass. His words pushed her over the edge, and she shouted as she shattered, her pussy clenching around the glass statue. She squeezed his cock tight in her ass.

His shout made her ears ring as he streamed his release inside her ass. She saw stars, her orgasm going on and on. He continued to pound her, and their cries joined together until Rhea thought it was a beautiful music she'd never get tired of hearing.

Finally he collapsed, his body slamming the statue hard inside her pussy for one final flood of sensation that made darkness edge around her consciousness. Her head spun crazily, and her lungs burned, but she knew one thing.

He belonged to her. She wasn't going to let him leave her.

Two hours later, he dressed and wouldn't meet her gaze. His hands shook, and he leaned against the wall for a moment when he stumbled away from the bed. Her ass was sore, her body sated, her mind spinning.

“I have to go.”

Sometime in their last passionate collision, he'd released her hands. She sat up now and retrieved the clothes he had practically torn off her body to get her naked. “I know.”

“I'll be back,” he said.

She stared at his averted face. Did he really think she was that deluded? No, he didn't want her to hurt. He wanted her to be safe. Too bad he was only master in the bedroom. “I know that too.”

Rhea crossed the room and cupped his face in her hands. The misery, the agony, she glimpsed in those green eyes made her breath catch. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“You should go home. You shouldn't wait for me. You should—”

She stopped him with her mouth, her tongue inside his mouth. He only hesitated for a moment, and then he crushed her beneath him. The kiss was so bittersweet, so passionate, she wondered if she'd ever be able to breathe normally again.

He tore his mouth away and walked quickly out the door. He didn't even say good-bye.

She dressed quickly and slipped out the door. If she was quick, she'd get a hovertaxi before he did and make it to the shuttle first.

She had no intention of being left behind.

* * * *

Twice Conner turned back. Once he thought he saw her on the busy street in front of the hotel. But it couldn't be her. She was safe in her room, probably cussing him for leaving her.

Traffic was awful, adding to his shitty mood. How the hell was he supposed to win against the odds he and Leo faced? All he wanted to do was sink into the welcoming heat of his mate, not try and save the fucking universe from a couple of power-hungry assholes.

But he wasn't made that way. It was a job he had to do.

When he stomped into the shuttle bay, Leo opened his mouth to speak, and Conner held up a hand. “I don't want to talk about it. Let's just get the fuck out of here before I change my mind.”

One eyebrow shot up over his friend's eye, but Leo snapped his mouth shut and nodded. Conner jerked the gangplank up and ducked into the shuttle. He inhaled and gasped. The place smelled like her. He'd never be free. Never. His hand stroked his mark, and he closed his eyes. God, he was going to miss her.

He shook his head and climbed into the pilot's seat. Concentrate on the job ahead. Sethos Five and then General Halloway. A victorious death. All in a day's work.

Leo slid next to him without a word. Conner wouldn't look at him, not wanting to see the sympathy in the man's face. Instead, he focused on getting the shuttle out. “Did you grab me some clothes?”

“I scored,” Leo said. “I found a couple of Primarian uniforms. We should be able to approach Sethos Five without a problem.”

“Ancred will be looking for us.”

Leo held up a small gun. “No, he won't.”

“What is that?”

“It's going to short out that tracer inside you. I've taken care of mine. Now you.”

“Go ahead.”

Leo aimed at Conner's torso, and a moment of worry slid inside his mind. But then a jolt slammed into him. He jerked in his seat. “Fuck! You could have warned me.”

His friend, and he used that term loosely, grinned. “Yeah, probably.”

“When did you become an asshole?”

The smile dropped from Leo's face. “When I watched you drag your sorry ass back on this ship. Alone.”

Conner's heart clenched, and he turned away. Silence filled the cab. They worked to get the shuttle off Elison, away from Rhea, away from the only thing that mattered to him anymore.

The shuttle rose off the planet and shot toward the gate with ease. Leo must have obtained a few engine boosters. Conner didn't want to ask him how. He didn't want to talk at all. The pain in his chest spread all over, and he felt sick.

They plowed through the gate and slipped through a gate that came out near Sethos Blue, its cloudy surface visible on their screen. They had about five hours' travel to Sethos Five, but they took a longer route to avoid Sethos Prime and its patrols.

“What weapons did you get?” he asked, though it was more to break the silence and avoid his thoughts than anything else.

“Three disintegrators, two laser cannons, two laser rifles, a couple of flash grenades, and a Ryser bomb.”

“How the hell did you get your hands on a Ryser bomb?” Those things were dangerous to handle and impossible to obtain.

“I used my Primarian military contacts.” Leo grinned.

“Those are some contacts. Any scuttlebutt?”

Leo shook his head. “Nope. I checked to see if Ander Rylan will be at the
Star of Pleasure
. He's arriving today.”

Conner ran a hand through his hair. “So I didn't have the day right.” He sighed. “Do we have a time?”

“No.” Leo cleared his throat. “Here's the thing, Conner. We're not going to get close to the minister until he's in the club and, well…”

What the fuck was Leo getting at? “Well, what?”

“You aren't my type, my friend.”

Conner blew out an impatient snort. “Back at you. So what?”

“So, do you really want to add a female unknown into the mix?”

“We don't have a choice.”

Again, Leo cleared his throat. “That's not quite true.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Conner stared at Leo. The man was getting at something.

“He's talking about me.” Rhea appeared from the back of the shuttle.

For a full minute—or an eternity, Conner wasn't sure which—he gazed at his mate, there, on the shuttle.

Then he exploded out of his seat and grabbed her by the shoulders. “You can't be here! I want you to live. I want you to have kids, settle down, have a life that doesn't involve all this shit.”

Her hands reached up and rested on both his cheeks. “Don't you see, Conner Mitchum? I can't have any of that without you. I won't have any of it without you.”

He gave up and wrapped his arms around her, his mouth claiming hers in desperate need. Common sense demanded he escort her right back to Elison. But he couldn't deny the jump of joy and excitement he had experienced when he heard her voice. She was here. With him.

And he never wanted to let her go.

He broke the kiss to take a breath, and she laughed. “I'm glad I'm here too.”

His hands flexed on her shoulders. “Damn it, Rhea. This is going to be dangerous.”

The smile dropped from her face. “I know it. Let me go with you. Please, Conner.”

“We need her,” Leo said behind him, and Conner whipped around with his finger pointed.

“And you. Goddamn it, you know what we face. How could you let her come with us?”

“Listen, Conner. Rylan has signed up for his play sessions at the club.” Leo held his gaze. Information Leo gathered while Conner was fucking his mate, he implied. “He signed up for a ménage.”

Conner let a slow breath out. “Established couples.”

“Established
threesomes
,” Leo emphasized.

“No.” Absolutely not. Yes, he could tolerate Leo touching his mate when they were on that fucking Primarian warship, but this would be entirely different. He knew how ménages went at these clubs. There was more partner switching in those sessions than in an Old Earth Roman orgy.

“It will get us in, Conner,” Rhea said, her hand on his arm.

“Right, and Rylan or one of those other assholes will touch you, and I'll go berserk.”

“No, you won't. Because I'm not letting any other man touch her,” Leo stated. “We can do this and catch the killer.”

He closed his eyes. Damn it. They were both right. But he didn't want Rhea involved in any of this shit.