Marked for Pleasure (5 page)

She struggled and turned her head to glare at him. “You can't.”

“I can, and I will.” He smiled, and something in the expression made her blood turn to ice. He jerked her toward the luxurious bed in the other room. From a bag on the floor, he removed an item she'd never seen before. What the fuck was that thing? It had two straps with metal clips on either end and a huge ball in the center. He shoved her facedown on the bed and gripped the back of her hair to lift her head up. The ball was against her lips. He wanted that thing in her mouth? But then she wouldn't be able to—

She suddenly realized her predicament. Without the ability to say her safe word, she couldn't stop anything. She clamped her lips shut and struggled in earnest. His fingers pinched her nose, and her mouth flew open. He jammed the ball in until it stretched her mouth so far, she thought it would crack her jaw.

He flipped her over, and she clawed at him, her hands flashing out in vicious slashes. He captured them and slammed them over her head. “This is against all the rules, little bird. But I'm a man who has a job to do. If you're not my contact, I can't let you off this ship.”

In a smooth movement that allowed her no chance to fight, he pulled her to the head of the bed and cuffed her wrists with the restraints there. He clasped her ankles in cuffs at the foot of the bed, her legs splayed open.

His gaze traveled over her, and to her humiliation, her nipples tightened and her pussy throbbed. He shook his head. “If the Brotherhood sent you, they know me better than I know myself. You were made for me.” His fingers gently traced her shoulder and along the side of her breast. She couldn't control the shiver that flowed along her body. What had made her think she could go after Conner Mitchum?

She turned her face away. His voice seemed hard and unfriendly. “I'll make some inquiries about you, little bird. You'd better hope I can find out who you really are.”

There was death in his voice, but she didn't care anymore. Her chance to avenge her family was gone. All that was left was this humiliating submission that made her want to hurl.

When the door closed and the darkness closed in, she wished she could just die.

His cock throbbed, his hand still burned, his belly churned. To be wrong was one thing. To choose a woman who wanted him dead was completely different. How could he have been so off? Not to mention she wasn't the usual assassin. He thought he could spot a professional. That woman was no pro. Damn it. His confidence was shaken.

Dressed and out her door, intent on finding some answers, he was halfway down the hall when the alarm on his HITU blared. The small cameras he'd set up in his room showed a clear picture.

Domini.

The man had two other masked men with him, both of them wore the Brotherhood insignia. Fuck. He'd known they were here but had hoped they didn't know about him. Wrong again.

In the dark man's arms was the broken and bleeding body of the tall, black-haired submissive. Blood streamed from the woman's mouth, and her sightless gaze stared into the camera.

She'd been the contact. He'd read the whole thing wrong. He'd been distracted by the blonde. It had been deliberate, and he'd been manipulated. He was about to click off the HITU to storm into his room when he saw what they were doing.

A Ryser bomb.

They loaded the woman's body with a bomb that couldn't be disarmed.

He clicked on the channel for the captain. “I have an emergency to report.”

“How can we help you, Master Conner?”

“Please inform the captain that there is a Ryser bomb in my room.”

A crackle and a moment later, a very angry man appeared on-screen. “Mr. Mitchum, I do not find this amusing.”

“Neither do I, believe me.”

“That's just the problem, Mr. Mitchum. I do not believe you,” the captain said firmly. “Our room surveillance shows only one thing. A dead submissive. Please remain where you are until security locates you.”

“I don't think so, Captain. If your men approach that room, the bomb will go off.”

The captain glared at him. “Is that a threat?”

“No, it's a fact. If I had set it, Captain, I wouldn't tell you a fucking thing. Do what you want.” He clicked off.

He had ten minutes. Security on a pleasure ship was lax and slow. But they would find him. Quickly he contacted the general.

When the old man's face appeared, Conner didn't give him a chance to speak. “General, my cover has been compromised. The Brotherhood has found me.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” The general's watery blue eyes showed nothing, no help, nothing.

“General, your contact sent me here. No one knew I was coming here. No one. Only you and the man with the information.” A sinking sensation was spreading over his whole body.

“The Brotherhood is good at getting information, Conner. You know that.” The general blinked. It was odd. Most of the time, the general had a cigar in his mouth. But there was nothing there now. Only that strange blank expression on his face.

“I see, sir. Can you tell me anything about this woman?” He sent his mystery submissive's information to the general and checked the time. He had five minutes. The corridor was still empty. So far so good.

The general gazed at the image of the blonde and nodded. “Her name is Rhea Tucker, surviving colonist on Corilus.”

“Corilus. Why does that sound familiar?” He thought he knew, and it made his stomach churn.

“Because it was one of your first assignments. The Brotherhood sprayed the planet. Their target was a scientist named Evanrood.”

“Then why did this woman try and kill me, damn it?” His hand tightened around his HITU, and he glanced up and down the corridor.

“Perhaps you should ask her.”

Suddenly the screen went blank. The general had cut off communication. Clearly, he was on his own. Rhea Tucker had once been collateral damage in a Brotherhood assassination. He was determined she wouldn't be again.

* * * *

She must have fallen asleep, because it seemed like the next instant, he was back. Rhea blinked as the lights flooded the room. She studied him as he strode cautiously into the room. In a way, she knew every single line on the man's face. Yet she hadn't known her response to him would change everything for her. He was very tall, hard to miss in any crowd. His straight brown hair was close cropped but not a military cut. His eyes were a startling green that seemed to cut through her as he stared at her now. The telltale twitch of his thumb, an involuntary movement she knew well, showed his anger. After two years of following him, studying him, she knew the pinched look on his face meant he was extremely unhappy. In fact, the last time she'd seen it, he'd almost killed a man.

Go ahead, she thought. Kill me. Get it over with.

“Rhea Tucker, one of a handful of survivors from Corilus colony.” His fists clenched. “You must have been, what, twenty-five when the planet was infected?”

She yanked on the restraints. His eyes narrowed to small slits. “And you blame me for the four hundred and sixty-five deaths on that planet.” He frowned, and she sent all the hatred she felt for him into her glare. “Why the hell would you think that? You're wrong, you know.”

She swallowed. Bullshit, she thought. She would have screamed it, but the fucking ball was stuffed in her mouth. He nodded as if she'd spoken.

“I thought you wouldn't believe me. That's fine.” He strode across the bedroom and began to throw her things into her bags. “The problem is, I don't have time to convince you.”

What the hell was he doing? She watched him as he packed her clothes efficiently, quickly. He picked up her HITU and ripped the back out of it. She whimpered as he cleared it and tossed it into the corner.

Then he crawled onto the bed. She gasped as her body instantly responded. Heat slid along her skin. Her nipples became taut. He loomed over her, and she met his gaze. Without a word, he released the restraints. He removed the ball from her mouth, and she rubbed her jaw hinge with her fingers.

Her throat hurt. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Someone has loaded this ship with enough explosives to blow us into the next system.” He tossed her the clothes he found hanging over the chair. “You're mine. Whatever you think I've done, I own you for another twenty-four hours. After that? I don't care what you do.”

It was too much to process. “What the hell are you talking about? You don't own me.” She wiggled into the skirt and pulled her blouse over her head.

“Oh, but I do. It's the rules. You signed a contract when you pressed the button to couple with me. You know it.” He yanked her up when she finished dressing. “Right now, there's a bomb ticking away strapped to the body of a dead woman in my room.”

She swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. “Disable it,” she snapped.

He glared at her. “I would if I could. I told the captain, and he didn't believe me. It's a Ryser bomb. Every heard of them?”

Of course she had. She suddenly felt dizzy. Ryser bombs were hard to see and impossible to disarm. Any human breath within a ten-foot radius would set them off. The only thing to do was run. “Why wouldn't the captain believe you?”

He glanced at his watch. “You're not the only one who thinks I have a bad reputation. Move, Rhea.”

“What exactly are we doing?”

“I'm getting you out of here. Then we can discuss whether or not you're going to kill me.” He gripped her arm and glared at her. “Somebody wants me dead, and they're willing to take a few thousand people along with me. Though that might seem flattering, it's actually a little annoying. It means my cover has been blown. And I think you may have helped blow it.”

Cover? What the fuck was he talking about? She had no time to get the question out. He hustled her down the corridor, his eyes intent in front of them. Why the hell was she following him? She should twist out of his grasp and run.

In fact, she began to break his hold, when three men exploded from a side corridor. One of them was that asshole Domini, his suit traded for a black uniform with a blue star on the left breast. Domini grabbed her, and the other two attacked Conner.

No amount of struggling did any good against this fucker. She knew what he was now. The Blueshift Brotherhood. Assassins. Deadly, driven, and completely heartless, they would take her out along with Conner.

She was no covert fighter, but she jammed her heel into Domini's shin, and his grip loosened. She skittered away from him.

Conner shouted, “Get behind me.” He shoved her against the wall and disarmed one of the men so quickly that one second she'd held her breath thinking Conner was a dead man, and the next second, a disintegrator clattered across the corridor.

Domini lunged for her, and Conner tried to put a fist to his kidneys. The dark man blocked Conner's blow and snapped his head back with a jab to his chin. Conner stumbled but elbowed the other man's throat. Domini gurgled, and Conner finished him with a hand slash to the neck.

Blood dribbled from the corner of Conner's lip. One of the other men plowed into him and knocked him to the ground. They grappled, the second assassin attempting to zero in on Conner with his disintegrator. Conner got two hands free and whacked the man on top of him in the side of the throat. The man gasped and tumbled off Conner, who jumped to a crouch.

There was no time to think, no conscious effort to make sense of it all. She scrambled across the hallway and gripped the disintegrator. The last assassin had Conner in his sights. She fired.

The beam sliced across the hall, and the man's stunned expression held for a moment before his body crumbled and dropped into a pile of ash.

Her hands shook, horror ripping through her. What had she done? In the two years she'd obsessively sought Conner Mitchum, she'd been physically threatened a few times but somehow avoided killing anyone. All those years of training to be a weapon, to use a weapon against the one man who caused her family to die, had never addressed the one thing she might need to know.

What happened after she won?

Her lungs hurt as she stared at the pile of dust on the cold, metal floor. She couldn't breathe, couldn't move. She'd killed a man.

Conner started toward her, and she jerked the weapon toward him. “Get back, Mitchum.”

“We have to go. The ship is going to blow, and that weapon discharge is going to bring company.” He didn't stop his progress toward her. Her hand trembled. Her stomach rolled. What was she going to do? Here was her chance to kill him. He had killed her parents; he had killed Regina. It was his fault.