Tiger of Talmare (12 page)

Her pants were tangled around her ankles, and she kicked them off. Her white shirt hung to the top of her thighs. She was almost decent.

Zach washed his hands. He splashed cold water on his face before turning to examine her. His gaze made a leisurely trip from head to toe. He smiled. "You should lie down for a while. You might not feel it right now but being shot by a blaster is a shock to the system."

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you shot me," she replied.

"I didn't have time to do much thinking. Would you rather be dead?"

At his words, a tremor of shock ran through her body. Suddenly, it came to her that he had saved her life, and what that meant. She could be dead now, would have been if not for Zach. "No, I wouldn't rather be dead." She paused. Could she do it? She took a deep breath. "Thank you."

He grinned. "Was that so hard?"

"Close on impossible. You know, I think I will have that lie down now, after all."

She made to clamber onto the high bed but Zach stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Take your shirt off first."

"What?"

"Your shirt," he repeated. "Take it off. You're not going to need it."

She glanced up into his face. His eyes had that sleepy, half-lidded look that sent a shiver rippling through her body. She shook herself. "You're not seriously suggesting we have sex just after I've been shot?"

"Oh, yes I am. I've been as hard as a rock for the last two days, ever since you had your pretty little hands around me." He looked at her for a moment, before continuing. "Do you know how long it's been since I had a woman?"

"Now how the hell would I know that?"

"Well, it's been a bloody long time, and I'm not waiting any longer."

"You're taking rather a lot for granted."

"Am I?"

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Zach held his breath as he waited, trying to ignore the fact that his cock was rock hard, and his balls ached viciously. If he didn't get inside his little pirate soon he was going to go seriously insane.

She was obviously thinking about it carefully, staring at the floor, chewing on her luscious lower lip.

"Come on Mel..." he groaned.

She raised her head and looked at him then her hand went to the top button of her shirt and slowly released it.

A wild flare of excitement roared through his body. "Oh, thank you, God."

She fumbled with the next button, and he reached out and placed his hand over hers.

"Let me," he murmured, closing his fingers around her hand. "Hey, you're trembling. Not scared of a little bit of sex, are you?"

It occurred to him as he spoke that she very well might be scared of sex. Who knew what she'd had to endure in three years in a brothel.

"Of course not."

He searched her face, but could read nothing from her expression. He finished unfastening the shirt. When it was done, he slid his hands inside, parted the material, and his palms glided up over her rib cage to cup her small pointed breasts. He was pleased to see her nipples were already tight buds. They hardened further, turning a deep, dark red as he stroked them with the pad of his thumb.

Sliding his hands up to her shoulders, he pushed the shirt from her, tossed it on the floor.

"You're beautiful," he said.

"No, I'm not."

"Don't argue."

She was lean, no spare fat, with long, clean lines and small pert breasts. There was nothing "soft" about her, but his body reacted fiercely to the sight. He couldn't resist stroking one finger over her tight little nipples, watching the way her skin puckered under his touch.

"Zach?"

He tore his eyes from her breasts to her face. She still seemed nervous, and he frowned. "Hmm?"

"I haven't done this in a while."

"How long is a while?"

She hesitated. "Ten years."

He did the math. "So the last time was in the brothel and that doesn't count. How about before that?"

She shook her head.

"What, nobody? You were a virgin? Then that makes this your first time."

"Hardly," Mel muttered.

A wave of hatred rushed through him at the thought of the men who had put her in that place. And for the men who had paid and used her. He was glad she had killed one of them. He'd like to hunt down the rest and cut off their damn dicks himself. He smiled at the thought.

"What?" she asked.

"Just think I might be catching bad habits—or maybe good ones—from you, that's all. Never mind," he continued as she gave him a blank look. "Up you get."

****

Mel climbed up on the bed and lay flat on her stomach, head to the side, cheek lying against the pillow and watched as he stripped for action.

First, he peeled off the T-shirt. He had a superb chest, ridged with muscle and huge, powerful shoulders. She didn't have time to appreciate the sight fully because he was ripping off his pants.

Her breath caught in her throat; he hadn't been lying. He was rock hard, thick and long, almost vertical against his lean belly, the head purple and swollen.

He noticed her staring at him and grinned. "Told you so."

Her lashes fluttered closed as his large hand stroked down the length of her back, grazing lightly over her buttocks, then pushing gently between her closed thighs. She heard his sigh of satisfaction as he found her already hot and wet for him.

At that first touch, her whole body clenched in anticipation, and his other hand came around to rub her back, massaging the tense muscles.

"Relax, kitten," he murmured. "Just let me do this for you."

His hand moved between her legs, probing the saturated folds of her sex. One long finger slid inside, and her muscles clamped around it. He withdrew then glided higher, making lazy circles, avoiding the most sensitive spot, until she thought she would go mad for his touch. She raised herself up, opening her thighs wider, and not even the sound of his masculine chuckle could stop the instinctive movement.

She turned her head to glare at him. Their gazes locked, and he touched her there, right where she needed it. Her whole world exploded. She collapsed onto the pillow, eyes tight shut, her breath coming in short sharp pants. Still, his fingers moved against her, and she came again, shuddering and jerking.

"Stop," she moaned.

Finally, his fingers went still. She lay unmoving, only the occasional ripple of pleasure shivering through her. At last, when the shudders died down to quiet tremors, she opened her eyes. He was so close, and he leaned down and kissed her on the mouth. A long, slow kiss of possession; his tongue gliding against hers.

He straightened and took a step back, a grin on his face. "That was easy."

Climbing onto the bed, he placed himself behind her, between her spread thighs. His hands rested on her hips, raising her up onto her knees, and she struggled feebly. "Can't," she mumbled, "I've no bones left, everything's turned to Jello."

"Come on, kitten," he urged. "My turn now."

His hands were insistent, and she allowed him to position her as he wanted. She was on her hands and knees in front of him, just as she had imagined. She should have felt vulnerable, but with a start of surprise, she realized that she trusted Zach. The thought made her turn her head and look at him over her shoulder.

He was poised behind her, his expression intent, one hand on his cock. He saw her watching him and smiled. "Ready?" he asked.

She nodded and turned away. A moment later, she felt the head of his cock probing the opening to her body, and with one fluid move, he filled her. She gasped, and he went still, waiting for her to grow accustomed to him.

"Jesus, that feels sooo good," he murmured.

It did, and she bucked against him, wanting more. One hand held her hip steady as he started to move; slowly at first, pulling out of her almost completely only to push back in. The sensation of his cock dragging against her sensitive flesh was exquisite, and she moaned softly.

She sensed the tension radiating from him as he ruthlessly controlled his movements, and she pressed back against him. His other hand came around to touch her between the legs, lightly stroking over the tight little bud. She was still so sensitive that she came immediately, and she screamed.

"Shh," he whispered, "or we'll have Leila coming in here to rescue you."

She bit her lip, muffled her groans in the pillow as he picked up speed, both hands on her hips now. He slammed into her harder and faster, sending shock waves of pleasure shooting through her until she felt his final thrust as he spilled himself inside her.

For a moment, he was still. "Okay, that was a pretty good start. No doubt we'll get better with practice."

"Can't do it again," Mel said. "I've died."

Easing out of her with a groan, he collapsed on to the bed beside her.

A long time later, Mel lay on her side, her body aching. Zach was beside her, lying on his stomach, head resting on his folded arms, eyes closed. She had managed to stir herself enough to do it again. And again. Now it was Zach who was exhausted.

She reached out and trailed her fingers along his back, tracing the pattern of black and gold tiger stripes. They were beautiful. She looked back at his face to find his eyes open. He was watching her.

"Does it bother you, that I'm not classified as human?" he asked.

"No, why should it?" she replied. "With the exception of Darla, no-one on
The Revenge
is."

"Well, I know about Leila, and Angie and Grace are pretty obvious."

Mel grinned. "Yeah, we rescued them from an experimental space station. They're some sort of plant hybrid; they can even photosynthesis. It's cool."

He was looking at her curiously. Obviously trying to work out just what it was that made her "not human".

"So what about you?" he asked.

"You mean it wasn't in 'my records'?"

"I never picked it up."

She twisted to show him the scar on her left shoulder where she had carved away the tattoo.

His eyes widened. "You're a clone?"

She nodded. "Born and bred in a lab."

"So what happened?"

"I left."

He raised an eyebrow in query, clearly not satisfied with her answer. Why not tell him? He already knew the worst bits. "One day we had a visit from my Primary, that's what they called them in the lab, the originals who paid for us to be created. We weren't supposed to know what we were, but I overheard them talking, she was asking when could they do the operation, and I got curious. They were lax about security in that place so when she left, I sneaked out and looked at the records. I was eighteen. I wasn't ready to let my brain be discarded so some rich bitch could have my body.