Primal Heat (10 page)

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Authors: Crystal Jordan

BOOK: Primal Heat
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“Fuck me hard.” Her soft moans and cries drove him on, made him feel as though he were going to explode at any moment.


Khalaa
.” He purred, the beast staring down at his succulent prey as he rode her against the rough stone. With the last shred of his sanity, he held tight to the power building inside him, wanting to take more than just her body. Drowning himself in the essence of her, he took everything he could without sinking his mind into hers. The beast wanted to. Anun only knew how it wanted to. But he could never cross that line.

A hopeless groan pulled from his throat. He sank his cock into her hot depths again and again as they pushed themselves faster, became wilder. He could feel how close she was to orgasm and he thanked Anun for it. He wasn't sure how much longer he could hold on. The only sound between them was the sharp slap of his skin against her and the heavy pant of their breath as they struggled to drag in enough oxygen.

Her pussy fisted around his cock on his next swift stroke. His muscles flexed as he hammered into her, almost losing his tenuous grasp on the unraveling ends of his self-control. She squeezed her legs around him and he could feel how her orgasm built like an inferno inside her, feel the power of it, the heat, the sweetness. It fed his own craving, and his claws dug into her hips as he pulled her tighter to his pelvis, rocking deeper inside her. She sobbed on a breath. “
Please.

He ground against her clit, sending fire streaking through his system. Her inner muscles squeezed hard, pulsing around the length of his dick. Her fingers slid into his hair, twisting tight as her pussy convulsed around him. He worked his cock in time with her contractions, dragging it out until he thought he'd die, but he didn't want it to end too soon; he wanted her—like this—forever. The beast purred at the barely coherent thought.

“So. Good,” he groaned, his voice a bare rasp of his usually smooth, articulate tone.

He pounded into her, pulling away from the mental connection as he let the feline take over their physical coupling. The last fetters of his restraint ripped loose, and he drove himself toward orgasm. Throwing his head back, he roared and the sound echoed in the silent forest. He slammed deep and froze, a shudder running through his body as he came deep inside her. She gasped, her sex clenching around him one last time, making her moan and cling to him.

With a harsh groan, he sank down on her, lungs bellowing as he tried to catch his breath. His sweat-dampened forehead dropped to her shoulder and he shuddered, his hands flexing on her hips. She brushed her fingertips up and down his back, warm and satiated.

He struggled against the desire to purr and lay here forever letting her pet him. He loved her touch; it fed some deep longing within him that he preferred not to examine. He sighed and leveraged himself away from her. She unwound her legs from his waist and they both groaned when his cock slipped out of her. He lifted her higher on the boulder so that she was sitting on top of it. “Stay there.”

Turning, he stooped to retrieve her clothes from where they lay in haphazard piles on the ground. He sighed again when he looked back and found that she'd taken the opportunity to straighten her disheveled braid. He wanted to see her hair down, wanted to bury his fingers in it, wanted her to let go of all that tight control of hers. It was
almost
gone when he fucked her, but he wanted it totally gone, wanted her as wild as she made him. Once he handed her garments back to her, she slid everything on except her bra and shirt. Both their chests were smeared with blood. His blood.

She didn't bother to cover herself, holding her shirt away from the crimson stains on her skin. “We need to clean up.”

He shuddered when he thought of the frigid stream water on his overheated flesh. This part of their little escapade was going to be unpleasant. Still, they did need to cleanse themselves, so he tracked the scent and sound of running water to the stream and she scurried to keep up with him. They each hurried to bathe, their teeth chattering as the frigid liquid hit their flesh.

Bren slipped her clothing over her damp skin and rose to her feet, not meeting his gaze. Her thoughts had turned inward and he deliberately pulled away from any connection they had to give her privacy, but it pained him that she'd pulled back again, and the beast inside him clawed at the restraint he placed upon it. It wanted no part in any distance there was between it and its One. The man always at odds with his feral nature, and frustration crawled through him at the constant inner struggle.

They followed the brook downstream toward their campsite, but Bren drew to a halt when they came to another fallen warrior. Farid sensed the man was unconscious, so he made no protest when she approached the soldier warily and squatted next to him, her fingers pressing to his throat as she checked his vitals. She glanced over at Farid. “Any permanent damage to any of the guys you took out?”

“They are merely asleep.” He shifted on his bare feet, wincing as a rock dug into his sole. “They will awaken in roughly eight hours.”

She straightened, brushing at her pants. “More will come looking for them when they don't check in.”

“Then we shouldn't linger, should we?” Shrugging the tight muscles in his shoulders, he hissed when it pulled at the wound in his arm.

“You threw yourself in front of a bullet for me. And then you reopened the wound fucking me.” She strode across the riverbank toward him until he could feel the heat of her slim body. Looking him over, she shook her head. “Are you insane?”

He was startled into a laugh, the bark of sound cracking loudly in the quiet woods. He brushed at his bicep, careful not to touch the wound. “You have no idea how often I've asked myself that very same question of late.”

“That's comforting.” She rolled her eyes, but it didn't mask the concern in her gaze. He liked that, liked that his welfare mattered to her. He silenced the rational voice that told him any kind of caring between them was a mistake. She sighed. “All right, you're shot and you need medical treatment. It's at least twenty kliks to the nearest hospital, and you can be sure they've got people waiting for us in every nearby speck of civilization.”

“Kliks?”

“Kilometers.” She tilted her head, staring at his arm as though she might somehow sense the extent of damage to his body. Which her kind couldn't do, so he knew it was fruitless, but he enjoyed having her so near, wanted to pull her to him and continue his exploration of her pretty body.

Taking a step back to give himself more space, more resistance, he cleared his throat. His arm ached and his self-restraint hung by a thread. He forced his mind to
anything
else, anything stupid and inconsequential. “How does that in any way relate to the word—”

“Really?” She gave him a sour look. “We're going to have a grammar lesson right now?”

He huffed out a breath, annoyed. Only Cilji had ever been able to make him laugh and make him mad in the space of a few moments. “You're lucky that the bullet merely grazed me and that I can walk right now, so I'll talk about whatever I want to.”

She blinked at him and her chin dipped in a quick nod. “Fair enough.”

“I will not require the attentions of your doctors.” He turned and began walking back to their camp, drawn by the scent of cooked rabbit and their fire. “I'll wait until we reach the emperor's ship. We have medical facilities there that far outstrip what I can find here.”

He felt her exasperation radiate out of her, but he kept going. Her emotions would only feed his, and he was having a difficult enough time containing those without trying to shield himself from hers. Her footsteps sounded behind him as she jogged to keep up. “Look, Arjun—”

“We're wasting time arguing about it. The wound is painful but shallow and fairly superficial. I'll be fine until we get aboard ship.” He glanced back at her, noting that she'd pilfered the soldier's smaller firearm before she'd followed him. “You're not going to change my mind, and seeking medical treatment here will only draw attention we don't want. My people will be here soon enough.”

“Are you sure about that?” They reached the campsite and two more unconscious men awaited them. He knew there was another pair of them farther downstream, but he decided not to share that with Bren. He selfishly wanted her concern all for himself, and the men
were
just sleeping so they would be fine.

“Very sure.” He bypassed the soldiers and retrieved his clothing, carrying them back to where Bren stood by the fire.

“Okay.” She looked anywhere but at his nudity, which both amused and aggravated him because she was so determined to ignore how good they were together physically. “Let's get some supplies off these guys. They'll be picked up when they radio in. We're not that lucky. They'll have weapons, a med kit, and some MREs we can liberate.” She glanced at him. “Just…don't eat the peanut butter in any of them.”

“MRE?” His brows drew together, and he watched her roll one soldier over, pull a pack off his back, and begin rifling through it. “You're speaking a language that is
not
standard English.”

“I'm speaking army.” She grinned over her shoulder at him, left the bag on the ground, and quickly moved to the other man to search him for whatever items she considered useful. “The official translation for MRE is ‘Meals, Ready-to-Eat.'”

“And the unofficial translation?” He stooped to pick up the pack, stuffed his clothing into it, and held it out for her to store the various weapons, packages, and metal Earthan gadgets she'd found.

“There are quite a few, like ‘Meals, Rarely Edible,' ‘Meals Rejected by Everyone,' and my personal favorite ‘Meals Refusing to Exit.'” Her eyebrows arched as she arranged everything in the heavy-duty sack and closed its fastening. “Don't eat the peanut butter.”

The things they expected their warriors to eat did not sound like the kind of fare that would keep them fit for duty long. Anun willing, he wouldn't have to eat any of it himself before Tylara, Haakesh, or Kyber sent a party to find him. “You'll tell me which container is the peanut butter.”

“Yeah.” She chuckled, shrugged into the pack, and bounced on her toes a few times to settle the sack into place. His gaze fell to her breasts as they jiggled. He wanted them bared and filling his palms, wanted to suck the nipples until they were deep red, until she screamed his name. He closed his eyes and tried to close his mind to the vivid image. When he looked at her again, she was staring back at him, her eyebrows raised. “I take it since I'm carrying your clothes, you're going feline on me rather than nudist hiking?”

I always knew you were a smart woman.
The safest form for him to be in until he could wind his unraveling powers back in was one that couldn't bond with a Kin. His beast form. So he shifted, and all the while he clenched his jaw against the searing pain of damaged muscles wrenched into a new position. The bleeding restarted, streaking his fur with fresh crimson. He ignored it, forcing himself to stay the course. They weren't safe here and that was more important than his comfort.

“There's a ridge to the south of here that might have some caves to camp in tonight.” She buckled a few straps into place on her pack and strapped on a belt with multiple weapons affixed to it. “It's going to be cold tonight if we have no fire
and
we're not running to keep our body temperature up like we did last night.”

He nodded and didn't respond, focusing on the pain that jarred the wound with each step. Anything to keep his mind off of her slim body and how much he wanted to bury his cock inside it until they both came. He wouldn't fail to protect her again, to keep her from harm's way.

He couldn't lose her the way he'd lost everyone else. He caught himself at the treacherous thought. He didn't have her; he couldn't lose her. But he couldn't deny that the very thought of her dying made him feel as though he been kicked in the chest. He couldn't deny that he wanted her more than he'd ever wanted any other woman in his life.

He'd always been drawn to her, but the hours in her presence had shown him
why
fate had made her his One. Stubborn and confounding, yes, but also brave, capable, smart, and honorable. She wouldn't be here with him if some inner compass hadn't guided her to it. Good to know that she could think for herself, though he knew in the military, that wasn't always considered an asset. She was, as Zielinski had said,
not really a team player
. Neither was he. Which was probably why he had never been interested in the Sueni military. He thought too much and talked even more. Excellent for a diplomat, terrible for an officer.

He glanced up at her, his gaze locking on the sway of her backside under the bulky pack. His mind strayed to things it shouldn't, like how soft the skin there had been when it rubbed against his groin as they'd fucked. The silence did nothing to distract him, and he jerked his gaze upward, watching her brush away a few wisps of hair that had escaped her braid.

How long is your hair when you have it completely unbound? Does it brush your backside?

She twisted at the waist to cast him an incredulous glance. “I don't see how that question is at all relevant, Lord Arjun.”

How often must I ask you to call me Farid?
He quickened his step, bounding forward until he was even with her. The movements jarred his shoulder, but he ignored it.
You use my surname and my title to put distance between us when we both know you do not desire distance,
khalaa.

“Fine. Farid. How about you answer some of my questions now?” She wiped sweat off her brow. “Why are you doing this? I know why I'm here. Why are you here?”

He blinked at her.
Isn't it obvious?

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