The Pleasure Bot (Planet Desire Book 4) (17 page)

He’d been brought aboard my small transport ship, a cargo so precious and dangerous the governor of the outlying fortress had refused to hold him long enough for a military transport to arrive. I’d been promised a fortune to deliver him to the Dominion courts and assured his suspension chamber would hold him safely.

Before I slept in my own chamber for the duration of the month-long journey, I’d inspected his, and checked to be certain the sleep inducements would last. But I’d been unable to resist a thorough inspection of his body as he lay inside.

I was a woman who spent too many months alone aboard my ship in deep space, my imagination my only company. And his body was beautiful. What harm would there be to look and stroke my hands over his still flesh?

And I had, much to my shame.

But this dream was too vivid. Even for the elaborate fantasies I often built to while away the days and weeks of my travels. His scent, his warm skin, his hard hands. His cock that stretched me—achingly.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” I asked, afraid of the answer and his knowing smile, and ashamed of my body’s creamy response. My lips trembled and his gaze fell to my mouth. I closed my eyes.

“No. You’re not dreaming.” His mouth descended on mine and I was lost to his mastery. His firm lips pressed mine and his tongue stabbed between my lips, sweeping over the roof of my mouth, gliding along my tongue, inciting me to suck.

I moaned and my traitorous body released a fresh wash of liquid arousal.

He growled deep in his throat, and his hands squeezed my ass and lifted me, and then pushed me down—moving me, finally, up and down his thick shaft.

Mindless now, I threw my head back and clutched his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as I climbed the precipice. “Don’t stop,” I begged. “Please, harder.”

His body shuddered between my legs, and his hips joined our dance, working in contradiction to the hands that directed my hips, pulling out as he lifted me, thrusting deeper as he ground my cunt down his length. Deeper, harder, faster—until I shattered. My long, keening cry ripped through the stillness around us.

When I opened my eyes, my head lay upon his shoulder, rising and falling with his ragged breaths. Drowsy, sated, I was less afraid and less believing because I’d never experienced such depth of passion in my life. I smoothed my cheek on his warm skin. “If this isn’t a dream, then what is it?”

“A possession. You are mine.”

Irritation cooled my body. I unwrapped my legs from his waist, and he lowered me until my feet sank into the sand. Although my knees trembled, I fisted my hands and stepped away from him. “I’m no man’s possession. This hallucination ends now.”

“The choice isn’t yours.” His words, not spoken, echoed around me, inside me.

I pointed my finger at him. “You’re my prisoner.”

His arms folded over his chest. “Am I?” Again, a small, mocking smile curved the corners of his lips.

“Damn you and your questions! I won’t let you change the course of this ship. I’ll never give you my password,” I cried out, angry and frightened. Surely this was only a nightmare. “Leave me.”

The sun glinted behind him, a corona so bright I raised my arm to shield my eyes. When I opened them again, he was gone and a hawk perched upon my arm. The bird sat so calmly, I wasn’t alarmed. “Is this a trick?” I shouted over the endless red peaks.

The bird stirred, drawing my attention. His golden, unblinking gaze held mine for a long moment.

“Are you his, as well?” I dared to lift my hand and stroke the brown and black feathers on his head. “Such a proud creature. You know you’re beautiful.” I stroked his chest and the action calmed my heart. “I shouldn’t be dreaming. This is his doing, isn’t it?”

His talons pricked me and I raised my arm, hoping he’d take flight into the aqua sky. His wings unfurled from his body and a gust of wind arose. He flapped, his talons now digging painfully into my skin to keep his perch, then he flapped again, and his tawny wingtips fluttered across my nipples. The sensation was ephemeral, but erotic, tightening the tips into buds, and I gasped—

Andromeda O’Keefe choked. The aspirating tube had retracted, and she was drowning.

“You’re coming out of suspension too quickly,” a deep voice, disembodied, came from beyond her gel-filled capsule.

She opened hers eyes, blinking against the light shining down through the clear hatch of her chamber and met a golden-eyed gaze. She recognized him instantly. Her prisoner was free!

She fought the urge to inhale more of the suspension gel and searched with her hands for the hood latch inside her chamber.

Before her hand connected with the latch, the panel popped, and the dark-haired man tossed the hatch back and reached inside. A large, rough-skinned hand slid beneath her shoulders, another beneath her thighs, and he lifted her easily from her warm cocoon to the cooler air on the bridge of her ship.

Andromeda sucked in air and gagged. He knelt to lay her on the floor. Once her chest quieted, she realized her predicament. She was naked and wet, lying on her back with her prisoner Khalim Padja, also naked, standing over her. He held out his hand, palm up. Not an offer of aid. His implacable expression demanded she accept.

As she didn’t have a choice, she laid her hand in his, and he drew her up. Her legs threatened to buckle beneath her from disuse after her slumber. He’d obviously been free longer for he seemed to suffer no such weakness, and he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her close.

Still coated with a thin film of suspension gel, her body aligned with his from breast to hip. Disturbingly, her mind recognized they fit together well—just as they had in her dreams. Her body seemed just as accustomed to his embrace, and she found herself instantly, embarrassingly, aroused. Would he notice how tightly her nipples puckered against his chest? She tilted her head back to gauge his reaction.

A muscle in his jaw flexed and his nostrils flared. The heat in his dark gaze seared her. He’d worn the same expression in her dreams each time he’d seduced her. Oh God! How could she have known what he looked like when aroused, unless they really had shared those experiences? She shuddered, fear and desire warring inside her body and mind.

His hand reached toward her face and she flinched.

“First, we bathe.” He smoothed back the strands of hair sticking to her cheek. “Then we’ll talk.”

Even his deep, rumbling voice was the same. With her heart pounding from the realization she was at the mercy of a murderer, Andromeda’s mind raced. “The shower stall is in my quarters.” She backed away from his hold. “I’ll show you.” Turning, she led the way down a narrow passage to her small, spartan room.

If she could get him inside the shower first and the door automatically entrapped him, she might have time to reach the weapons in the drawer beneath her bed. She couldn’t hope to overpower a warrior without armament.

Conscious of the tall, muscular body following a step behind her, she sighed with relief when she reached her room. She’d forgotten how small it was, until she realized he would have to pass between her narrow bed and the storage cabinets to reach the shower—and she blocked the way.

She stopped in front of the shower, pressed the button to open the stall, and then looked over her shoulder. “If you’ll step inside…”

“After you,” he said, his gaze boring into hers.

Andromeda pressed her lips together in frustration and nodded, then stepped inside, silently cursing. She hoped he wouldn’t poke around her things and find her cache of weapons while she bathed.

She needn’t have worried. Her breath caught on a gasp, when he joined her inside the stall and the door slid shut.

Sm{B}itten

Love Bites!

Emmy Harris knows she’s not perfect. She has a little extra padding and isn’t the brightest bulb, but you’d think she was a sexy rock star the way everyone at a certain night club treats her from the moment she walks through the door. In fact, the two sexiest men there can’t seem to keep their hands off her, until one of them sweeps her away to his private domain. A girl like her isn’t going to waste a chance like that! So he’s a little rough and likes to take a nibble or two while he pleasures her. For a girl who didn’t know she’d never experienced a full-blown orgasm before, Dylan’s eccentricities are delicious!

Dylan O’Hara only wants a night of passion to slake his lusts, but finds Emmy is a full-bodied, red-blooded siren whose innocence and humor draw this Master vampire like a moth to a red-hot flame. When Emmy attracts the attention of a serial-killing vampire, Dylan vows to protect her, but he fears he’ll lose Emmy once she discovers he’s not human.

Truly, Madly…Deadly

Just this once…

On the trail of a serial killer, vampire Quentin Albermarle is mistaken for the killer by a police special task force. Once the smoke clears, Quentin finds himself in a delicious position—atop one of the unit’s crack officers, Darcy Henry. In need of Quentin’s access to the vampire sub-culture, the task force leadership invites Quentin to join the crime unit as a special advisor, much to the chagrin of the men in the unit, and especially, of Darcy.

Caught between opposing forces, vampire and hunter…

A no-nonsense cop with no time for romance, Darcy suddenly finds herself embroiled in a steamy love triangle between her mortal partner, Joe, and the handsome vampire. Going from abstinence to wantonness, she is unable to resist the two men’s relentless seduction or her own sensual curiosity about a vampire’s special “kiss”.

A hunger like no other…

When the real killer threatens the life of someone close to her, Darcy makes a choice that forever binds the three of them together.

Knight in Transition

A member of an elite police unit sworn to hunt vampires, Joe Garcia’s life is turned upside down when he’s transformed into one. On a quest for a cure, Joe’s search brings him to New Orleans in a last-ditch effort to recover his humanity.

Professor Lily Carlson, a renowned expert in vampire lore, has a condition of her own. Her sexual libido has been in hyper-drive for months. Her only defense is to hide behind her glasses and tweed suits and stay as far away from men as possible. However, she’s thrilled to discover vampires really do exist when Joe shows up on her balcony.

Although Joe deflects her attempts to make him a case study and confirm a few vampire statistics, he is drawn by her powerful allure. When werewolves join the chase and track her through New Orleans, Joe’s cop instincts tell him there’s a mystery to solve. Intent on protecting her, he must seek help from the last vampire on Earth he wants to ask.

While his hopes for deliverance from his fate dwindle, Lily’s life is forever altered by an unexpected inheritance.