Captive of Pleasure; the Space Pirate's Woman (The LodeStar Series) (42 page)

He came down to her and brushed another kiss across her lips, then dipped his head to her breast, and licked the hard point of her nipple into his mouth as he lowered his torso between her open thighs. He was just as hard, and hot and deliciously heavy as she remembered.

Zaë cried out as he suckled her, a sweet tugging that intensified with each pull of his hot, wet mouth, until she was writhing in his arms, her hands in his hair, her legs clamping around him.
 

“Joran,” she whimpered. “I...” Then she broke, and her pussy spasmed with joy and frustration at once, because it felt so good, but she was empty, nothing for her flesh to clasp and hold.
 

“Baby.” He cupped her breasts in his hands, and lifted his head, watching her face with sparkling gaze “Did you just...from my mouth on your breast? You did. Fuck me, I’m gonna be back for more of that play.”

“Touch me.” She arched up under him, begging him with her body as well as her voice. “Joran, please, please touch me some more, touch me with your cock. I’ll die if you don’t have me now.”

“Oh, you’re gonna get it, I promise.” He kissed her again, but this time his hand was between her legs, and she mewled with relief as he stroked his fingers up to find her clitoris and soothe it with firm circles.

“Think I might just die if I don’t get inside you, my Zaë,” he told her.
 

He moved, driving his cock against her wetness, slicking himself in her arousal. “You ready for me?”

Her nails digging into his back was his answer. He groaned.

“Fuck me, should do more play, but this time, I can’t wait. Can’t wait another sec for you.” He kissed her hard, and then lifted his head enough to watch her face as he reached between them. Something broad and smooth and hot pressed into her, then drove deeper. His cock, finally.

He pushed deep enough to sting, and then paused. He was breathing hard, as if running, and sweat sprang out on his brow, and sheened his hard face in the glowlamps. His eyes glittered into hers.
 

“Tell me if I hurt you. I’ll ... fuck, I’ll try to stop.”

Because she knew he would, she didn’t tell him, even when it burned as he pushed again. Then he slid deep, and stopped and kissed her until she wanted nothing more than this, part of him lodged deep inside her, and his body weighing her into the bed, his mouth on hers, his breath hers, her arms around his broad back, holding him close.

They were finally joined, and that was all that mattered—his heart thudding so close to hers, his penis deep where no other man had been, his body covering hers. Until he moved, and she realized with a jolt of shock that the best was perhaps yet to come.

He gave her a slow, wicked smile, and moved again, pulling out and then sliding back in again, deep and solid and so hot.

“You like that?” he asked.

“Oh,yes,” she whispered, and then blushed, because he was inside her, and they were conversing. It was incredibly intimate.

“Me too.” Then his eyes closed, and she felt a shudder ripple through him. “Your pussy...so tight, and sweet and hot. Perfect, just like the rest of you.”

His cock was perfect too. So big it stretched her nearly to the point of pain, but more than that, it found and caressed nerve endings his fingers had not, as if it was the perfect piece of his body to interlock with hers. Then he moved, drawing her legs up around his lean hips, so that the next time he moved he struck hard on a magical place deep inside her.

“Oh,” she moaned. “Oh. More, Joran.”

“Oh, yeah, more,” he muttered. “Gonna fuck you so well, my Zaë.”

He gave her more and more, in a rhythm that sped up and up until her world and the night narrowed down and down to his cock in her, and her body tightening around it until she couldn’t bear it, and then it broke in an implosion of pleasure so intense she convulsed around him, and held on for dear life as her orgasm took her.

“Zaë. My God. Zaë!” He put his head down beside hers and went wild in her arms, driving into her so hard and fast the bed shook with it, and she as well, until he froze and arched, a hot flood of his seed inside her as he shouted hoarsely into the pillow.

Zaë lay under him, stunned with pleasure. He relaxed, weighing her into the bed, a hot, sweaty length of hard male, his chest surging against hers with his heavy breaths. She could barely breathe, couldn’t move. Her body felt as if she’d been pummeled from the inside out, and she didn’t care, not one bit.

He lifted his head, and levered himself up on one elbow to look down into her face. Then he pressed a series of small, sipping kisses on her face and lips. He was perspiring, his face damp against hers. A drop of sweat fell on her throat and trickled down, tickling her skin. She didn’t care about that either.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “I’m honored.”

She forced her eyes open, and drew a breath. “Oh, Joran. I liked your cock before. Now I think I love it.”

Then she watched with delight as his face creased and his laughter rumbled, shaking both of them. “Glad to hear it.Means you’ll want more. But now,” his gaze changed, softened. “Need to take care of you.”

He pulled out of her slowly, and glanced down between them. He reached down, an odd look on his face. “You bled a little. Did I hurt you?”

“No, you didn’t. I’m fine,” she began, but then she found herself being swept up and into the lav, his arm around her as he turned on the jets of hot water.
 

“I can wash,” she told him.
 

He gave her a look, so tender and possessive it swept away her objections. “Told you, when I’m on you, I clean you up. It’s my privilege.”

And if she found it unnerving, it was also unexpectedly tender to have this tough warrior care for her, soaping his hands and smoothing them carefully over her tender parts, then making sure she was rinsed off and dried, turning her into the puffs of warm air.
 

“Lucky air,” he muttered, and then distracted her with another long kiss.
 

She felt cherished. She hugged the sensation deep inside her as she watched his face, so beautiful in his satisfaction, his eyes heavy, his firm mouth tipped up in a secret smile.

He looked into her eyes and leaned to kiss her again. “There, all cleaned up. Next time, we’ll linger. So many things I want to show you, so many ways I want to have you.”

Excitement and alarm shivered through her. “There are?” And he wanted a next time?

He chuckled against her mouth. “Oh, bunny. You have no idea.”

No she didn’t—but she wanted to. Oh, how she wanted to.

***

After Joran left the tont, Zaë dressed slowly. As her clothing slipped over places he had touched, she smiled to herself and even blushed, though no one was there to see. She had had him, inside her! And it had been wonderful.
 

A very big part of her wanted to curl up and remember it all over again—every touch, every word he’d murmured in her ear, every hot thrust of his body in hers.
 

But as she looked back at the bed where they’d lain together, reality intruded. She had so much more to do and time was growing short. She felt this like a portent, as if dark clouds were gathering over the plain outside.

She linked Ringi again. Her friend answered with a quizzical smile. “Hmm, have a nice time with the Storm?”

Zaë sighed. “Yes. Extremely nice. Better than nice. But now I need to do more memory work. Can you come?”

“If you’re sure—this is a lot to handle in one day, girl.”

“I’m sure.”

Ringi and Dano were there within moments, Dano waving three bottles of wine. He narrowed his eyes at Zaë. “Later, you
will
tell me all,” he said. “You owe me.”

Ringi laughed. “Careful, Dano, she’s about to bolt like an untamed cata. Don’t think our girl is ready for sex talk.”

Dano huffed. “Well, then, what’s my payment?”

Ringi slapped his arm and he flinched theatrically but winked at Zaë. “I’ll get the details out of you, just wait and see. I’m good at that.”

“Let’s get started,” Zaë suggested.
 

“Wait, wait, first a few drinks of wine.” Ringi followed her to the divan, and the three of them opened their bottles.
 

Zaë toasted her friends. “To you, for helping me.”

 
She took another drink, and set the bottle down on the hovertray. Then, taking a shaky breath, she dove back into the black.
 

‘Aren’t you ready yet?’ A woman’s voice this time, cool and cultured in tone. ‘We must go if we’re to make the ship.’

‘Yes, Mother. Just making sure I have everything the women gave me.’ She felt silent resentment at her mother’s impatience. ‘Oh, no. I can’t find the blue basket. I can’t leave without that.’

The woman’s voice again, tight now. ‘We haven’t time to search for it, and in any case, it’s dark. The moons are down. You’ll have to leave without it. Perhaps the loss will remind you not to get too close to these peoples. We must remain detached.’

Her own distress stronger. ‘I won’t go without it. It was a special gift, they made it just for me. It must be out in the garden. I’ll get it and meet you out front.’

‘Oh, all right. Hurry, your father is holding the transport for us.’

‘I’ll hurry ...’

And she had, out into the warm, damp darkness. Perspiring under her snug suit, her breath quick in her throat as she aimed her light around the edge of the patio, searching for her basket.
 

And wishing as she searched that she could just stay here on Vardos. But at least she got to go home for the summer with Ren and Per, and take a seminar, instead of shipping off on yet another journey, where she would be expected to learn the manners and mores of yet another people, smile politely and watch while others had all the adventures. Because venturing out alone wasn’t safe.

Then the black leapt at her, enveloping her in hot, smothering folds. But it was more than the night, it was captivity.

The black drew her down and in, everything fading in a buzz of static.

Then nothing but her heart pounding, and her own breath stuttering in her throat.
 

Something warm came up and smacked her in the cheek—Ringi’s lap. Voices echoed over her, but soon they too, faded to black.

***

She woke slowly, swimming up to consciousness. Opening her eyes, she saw that she lay on Stark’s big bed. Gazing down at her was the Occulan medic, his eyestalks moving gently as he watched her.

“Ah,” he said. “You return to us. How are you feeling?”

Zaë considered. She swallowed, and spoke, her voice rough and scratchy. “I don’t know.” She frowned and turned her head, taking in Dano and Ringi’s worried faces on her other side. “What happened? Did I pass out?”

“You don’t remember?” Dano cried, his face sagging. “All that for nothing?”

She flinched as bits of memory, bright and jagged, crowded into her mind. “No... not for nothing.” She put one hand to her head, her fingers exploring the cool, damp pac laid on her forehead.
 

“Zaë?” Ringi leaned closer, her warm hand clasping Zaë’s. “You scared us.”

“Sorry,” Zaë whispered.
 

Riley held up a small device and scanned her, head to chest and back again. “Your vital signs are good. Hmm, this is fascinating. The area of your brain that is paralyzed is showing signs of activity.
 

“I suggest no more mental strain just now, however. You must wait a bit. Perhaps tomorrow, perhaps the next day.”

“Okay,” Zaë agreed. She wasn’t exactly in a hurry to repeat her painful, terrifying dive into the void in her head.
 

 
The medic’s com gave a metallic plink, and he rose. “And now I have an injured hand to take care of. You two stay with her a while, yes?”

“We will,” Dano assured him.
 

When the medic was gone, Ringi turned back to Zaë. “You remembered something. I can tell by the look in your eyes, Zaë.”

Zaë nodded. “I did. Zaë isn’t my real name.”

Ringi’s eyes widened. “It’s not? I mean, well, of course it’s not. But, what is your name?”

Zaë wrinkled her nose, her head aching at the effort. “Well, it’s a very strange thing, but I think...I think I’m named after your daughter.”

Dano’s brows flew up. “I think you’re a little confused, honey. I mean, how could that be?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “But my name...they called me Elle.” In fact, the man had called her Lady Elle, but that was just silly. It must be a pet name, or something.
 

“They?” Ringi asked. “They who?”

“Um, my parents.” She told them, slowly and with hesitations as she struggled to tell what had been real, what she’d remembered.

“So your parents are some kind of celebrities?” Dano guessed. “Maybe missionaries. There’ve been lots of those heading out from Earth II lately. I’ll bet that’s it. It would explain the way you blush, for sure.”