Kieran (Tales of the Shareem) (10 page)

“Not like that. And they mostly hire off-worlders to do it for them.”

“Yeah. Well.” Felice tapped the controls to open the door, to find herself facing a woman in flowing robes holding a medical-looking bag.

“I’m Katarina,” the woman said in a smooth voice. Calder was coming up behind her, still wearing a scowl on his handsome face. “Calder said I might be needed.”

Chapter Eight

Katarina d’Arnal was good at her job, Felice decided. She watched the woman competently clean Kieran’s wounds then inject something into the larger wounds that started to close them even as she wiped up the excess.

“Pseudoskin,” Katarina said, seeing Felice’s curiosity. “It acts as a filler while his own grows back. Seals the wound against infection too. Better than a bandage.”

Felice had to concede that Bor Nargans knew about medicine and medical technology—they’d perfected the art of genetic engineering, if the Shareem were anything to go by.

Calder sat in Kieran’s sole chair, frowning as he watched. “You want to tell me why you were beating up the entire crew of a cargo ship?” he demanded. “The patrollers were all over that place after we left. When your victims tell them they were attacked by a giant with blue eyes wearing a black chain, we all go to jail.”

“Shareem aren’t violent,” Kieran said, unworried. “Everyone knows that, right?”

“Those guys were from Cass IV.
They
won’t know that. What the hell were you doing?”

Felice stepped in front of Kieran, who only rubbed his healing skin in irritation and didn’t look upset by Calder’s questions.

“Leave him alone,” Felice said, squarely meeting Calder’s gaze. “He was trying to get away from them. He tells me that someone called Rees sent him to the dockyards in the first place. Who’s Rees?”

Katarina answered, sounding amused. “The ultimate Shareem.”

“The ultimate pain in the ass,” Kieran rumbled behind Felice. “Tell him to do his own dirty work from now on, Calder. I’m busy.”

“Shut up,” Calder snapped. “You want to talk even more? We don’t know this woman.” He gave Felice another glare.

“She’s
mine
,” Kieran said. He reached up and brushed his finger over the back of Felice’s collar. The touch made her warm all over. “She won’t say a word.”

“For now,” Calder said. “What about when she goes?”

“By then it won’t matter.”

Felice had no idea what they were talking about, but she sensed it was something important. Deadly important.

“I won’t go to the patrollers with anything you tell me, or anything I see,” Felice said. “You have my word. I have no interest in talking to them, and all kinds of interest in leaving Bor Narga as soon as I can.”

Calder flicked a gaze over her. “So buy a ticket and get on a transport.”

“More complicated than that.”

Felice expected Kieran to explain to his friends that she was in hiding, having escaped from near-slavery to TGH Corp, and that she wasn’t about to expose herself. Kieran, however, simply sat back on the sofa, rubbing his forearm and frowning. Though his bare torso was covered with angry cuts, now cleaned, he hardly seemed to notice them.

“Why is it complicated?” Calder asked Felice.

Katarina busied herself putting away her medical accoutrements and didn’t join the conversation. She looked as though she agreed with Calder about not trusting Felice, and Felice couldn’t blame her. No one knew Felice. She could be anybody, and the Shareem, she was coming to understand, didn’t trust lightly.

“I told you,” Felice said. “I will say nothing, and leave as soon as I’m able.”

Kieran came off the sofa. “Give it a rest, Calder. I got this.”

Calder didn’t look happy, but he closed his mouth, and Katarina shot both men a look of relief.

“Besides,” Kieran said, moving into his tiny kitchen and coming out with a large tumbler of water. “That crew won’t remember
me
. They’ll remember Felice.” He grinned. “You should have seen her. She had their asses on the ground before I could get in more than a few punches.”

Katarina returned her attention to Felice. “Really?” she asked, interested.

Felice shrugged, her heart beating faster. “It’s just something I learned how to do.”

“It was fucking amazing,” Kieran said. “I’d have her demonstrate, if we weren’t going to be busy for the next couple of days.” He gave Calder a pointed look. “Seriously busy. Thanks for patching me up, Katarina.”

“No problem,” Katarina gave him a big smile. “You know I love helping Shareem.”

“Good, then help Calder find his way to the door.”

Calder rumbled something, but he took Katarina’s arm and steered her to the entrance. Felice had the feeling, though, that if Calder hadn’t wanted to go, hadn’t thought it all right to leave Kieran alone with Felice, he never would have.

Katarina resumed the fine-clothed robes she’d arrived in and gave Felice a friendly smile. Then she wrapped veils around her face and stepped out into the darkness of the Bor Nargan night, Calder close behind her.

Felice shut the door and tapped the key to lock it. She turned around to find Kieran right behind her.

He could move so
fast
. And without a sound.

“I have a problem,” Kieran said.

“What?” Felice took in his flushed face and his eyes filling with blue. “I thought getting cleaned up and poked at hurt you—you were certainly grumbling. Don’t tell me it turned you on.”

“Not that. I hate doctors.” Kieran gripped Felice’s arms and kissed her throat above the collar. “It was the fight. Got me all worked up—jumpstarted my effed-up metabolism. And then seeing you, kicking and spinning and smacking, and knowing that was
my
woman, coming to my rescue . . .”

“They were going to kill you,” Felice said, losing the rage that had kept her going for the last hours. “I saw that. I was so scared for you.”

She ran her hands along his chest, feeling his heart pumping hard beneath too-hot skin.

“You were scared?” Kieran sounded puzzled. “For me? Why?”

“Because you’re kind of wonderful. I didn’t want to watch you die.”

Kieran stared at her. The blue in his eyes didn’t recede, but he stilled his hands on her, didn’t continue the seduction.

“Kieran?” Felice asked. “You all right?”

He didn’t speak for a time, then said, “I don’t know what to do.” His voice was what Felice thought of as his normal one, not the dark-toned Dom. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

She looked up at him, perplexed. “About what?”

“You don’t say the right words, the right triggers. You’re supposed to want rough play, and either be afraid of me or turned on by me. Nothing else.”

Felice blinked. “Why not anything else?”

His grip tightened on her arms. “Because I’m Shareem. I’m
Kieran
. I’m nothing when I’m not the level three. I’m just the dumbass who runs everyone’s errands.”

“What are you talking about?” Felice jerked away. “You mean, I’m not supposed to like you when we’re not having sex?” Her anger rose, but not at him. “I’m not supposed to be grateful you helped me get away, that you didn’t tell your friends what I was?” Tears started, and Felice dashed them away. “I’m not supposed to think you’re funny, or be happy you gave me a place of refuge, where I can relax for the first time in years? Not supposed to be glad you’re keeping me safe?”

She was crying now. Not exactly sobbing, but tears streaked down her cheeks.

Kieran leaned down and kissed a falling tear from her lips. And the next one. His arms went around her, pulling her close, as he continued the kisses. Not like the Dom, but gently, almost tenderly, and Felice, shaking, kissed him back.

*** *** ***

Kieran’s body and brain were doing crazy things to him as he held Felice. The fight—he hardly ever fought physically—had him hot, his heart pounding harder than it should.

Felice’s words:
You’re kind of wonderful
, had him on fire.

He wanted her, but he wasn’t supposed to
want,
except in the most basic, physical way. He’d been created to teach, to please, to give a woman an experience she’d never forget.

He shouldn’t want to bury himself in her, pull her close, and forget all about Shareem, transports, getting to Sirius III, and other unimportant shit like that.

Felice’s mouth was a place of heat, soothing his torment. Kieran pushed her against the wall next to the door and gave up the struggle inside him. Felice’s hands locked behind his neck, and he lost himself in kissing her.

Kieran’s fingers brushed her collar, and he smiled into the kiss. This woman—this strong, wild fighter, had been tamed to his touch. She wore his mark and didn’t fight it, the same way she’d worn the ropes with interest and courage.

Kieran slid his fingers beneath the collar to rub her soft throat. He eased the kiss to its finish but remained pressed against her, gazing into her eyes.

They warmed under his scrutiny, the strange gray-green hauntingly beautiful. Kieran kissed her eyelids, loving the feel of her lashes on his lips.

His body held hers in place. Kieran was mostly naked, having stripped down so Katarina could heal him, but Felice still wore the coveralls.

Kieran seized the clasp that held the coveralls closed and jerked them open to her waist. “Off,” he said. “You’re not allowed to wear clothes, unless you have my permission.”

Fire danced in Felice’s eyes, making his cock ache. “Or if someone else comes over?”

“Unless you have my permission,”
Kieran repeated. “If another Shareem or his lady, or Judith, sees you naked, too bad. They can’t have you.”

“Oh.” She looked puzzled. “Why would they want to have me?”

Kieran couldn’t stop his laugh. “You’re joking, right? Judith was ready to come here with me and climb all over you. And she’d never even seen you.” His laughter died. “But they don’t touch you. Not without my permission. Now . . .
off
.”

Felice quickly pushed the coveralls from her shoulders and kicked them from her legs. She was naked beneath, which Kieran had known from the way the fabric had caressed her. He’d been hard since they’d gotten home.

Gone were her inhibitions from when she’d first arrived, and Kieran’s heart warmed. He’d taught her to trust him, at least with baring her body.

Felice’s skin was soft to his touch. In spite of her fighting ability, and the fact that she’d been worked hard and had plenty of muscle, her skin was silken, a joy to his fingertips.

Kieran leaned to the collar again, but this time bit her throat. “Suck me,” he said.

Felice’s eyes widened, but Kieran didn’t need to explain. After giving him a quick, stunned look, Felice slowly slid to her knees. Kieran took a step back and slid off his loincloth, twisting it in his big hands.

He was going to come just watching Felice study his cock, which was stiff and aching, her lashes sweeping down as she looked it over from balls to tip. Her lips parted, her tongue touching them with moisture. Kieran tightened his hold on the loincloth, holding in the climax that would kill him before she even started.

He didn’t have any of his crops or floggers at hand, so he snapped the ties of his loincloth across her back. “Suck,” he said sternly.

Felice jumped at the slap of the cloth, though it would have nowhere near the sting of the lash. She steadied his cock in one trembling hand and kissed the tip.

“No.” Another snap.
“Suck.”

Felice only smiled, because she knew she was making him crazy. She licked the underside of his cock, a teasing flick of tongue. Fire raged from that point of contact, and then she slid her mouth over him.

Holy fucking shit.

Kieran held his breath as Felice closed her eyes and began to suck. She pulled him straight into her, without fear, without shame. She rubbed the underside of his tip with her tongue, her mouth moving, making his breath catch and his throat dry.

“Hell,” he whispered.

Felice increased the intensity, and Kieran groaned. She was punishing him—yes—maybe for giving her so much ecstasy yesterday, in this very same room. Why could Kieran not be angry for that? Oh, yeah, because it felt like heaven.

He laced his fingers through her hair, bunching it in his fist. Felice held on to his hips, strong fingers pressing his skin, eyes closed in concentration. He should have bound her, her hands behind her back, while he commanded her, but gods of the universe, her holding him and doing him like this was too damn good to stop.

Kieran tapped her with the laces of his loincloth, gently mimicking how he’s use a flogger or crop. Spank her while she sucked him—that would have both of them wild.

“No, no,
no
.” Kieran heard the words come out of his mouth as he fought his climax.

He should have the control to let her suckle him until her mouth was raw, and still he wouldn’t come. Then he’d punish her for not bringing him off and make her start again.