WarlordsBounty

Warlord’s Bounty

Cynthia Sax

The bigger the bounty, the more dangerous the fugitive.

Khan, a Chamele warlord, has a huge bounty on his head. His
enemy is willing to pay an outrageous amount to secure him. Khan
wants
to be apprehended, especially if the bounty hunter is a particular brown-eyed
female with razor-sharp daggers and an even sharper tongue. He’ll allow her to
subdue him sexually, his passion and prowess not inhibited by restraints, and
when she collects her bounty, he’ll collect his revenge, killing his enemy and
claiming his little bounty hunter forever.

Zeta doesn’t do forever. She captures the worst scum in the
galaxy and trades them for credits. Khan is fierce and sexy and the most
dominant male she’s ever encountered, but he’s also a fugitive. Once she sates
herself with his body, she’ll betray him. That’s her job.

Warlord’s Bounty

Cynthia Sax

Chapter One

“Your condition is unacceptable, fugitive.” Zeta glared at
the dried torso pinned under a twisted piece of black panel, the male’s flight
suit shredded and faded, his head and limbs missing. “I need you alive.”

Currents of scorching hot air wafted up from the
reddish-brown sand,
Chamele 4
barely inhabitable, its extreme temperatures
legendary. An anonymous tip had led Zeta to the arid planet. The highly visible
scattered remains of the single-manned ship had narrowed her search.

“I must be mistaken. You can’t be him. Fate isn’t that
cruel,” Zeta muttered, knowing firsthand that it was. She jabbed the tester
deep into the male’s chest and the brittle skin cracked on impact, all moisture
long evaporated from the corpse.

She squinted at the tiny screen. A trickle of perspiration
ran down her spine, her shirt sticking to her torso, the heat absorbed from the
leather straps holding her daggers and guns burning through the coarse fabric.

“Target confirmed,” the machine chirped happily.

“Son of a
Palavian
whore.” Anxiety twisted Zeta’s
stomach into tight little knots. The client required the intergalactic jewel
thief retrieved alive.

“I traveled across two galaxies for nothing, no thief, no
bounty.” She tilted her head back and stared at the giant blood-red sun,
finding no solution to their precarious financial situation there, the rent for
their bounty-hunter school due in fifteen universal days. “I can’t go back
empty-handed. I can’t disappoint the girls.”

Rough fingers drifted across her forearm, sending waves of
sweet sensation rippling over her body, the caress tightening her nipples and
lighting flames of desire deep within her.

“Touch me again and I’ll shoot your invisible ass,” Zeta
warned, her inappropriate arousal irking her. Since her arrival on the planet,
the male had tracked and tormented her. At every opportunity, he’d stroked her
skin and fondled her curves, building a need she couldn’t tend to, her personal
time limited.

Her yet-to-be identified stalker chuckled, the sound low and
pussy-moistening deep.

She turned slowly, surveying the landscape, searching for
signs of him. No shadows fell upon the viewscreen lodged in the sand to her
right, the clear surface cracked, feathered with fine fractures. Behind her,
only a single set of footprints marred the otherwise untouched sand dunes. The
fossilized remains of what might have once been a tree loomed to her left, as
dead and lifeless as the planet it inhabited.

“Spirits,” Zeta grumbled as she trudged toward her ship, the
wind biting at her back. She hunched her shoulders in defeat, leaving the
headless corpse of her target to disintegrate to dust, baked by the relentless
sun.

“Behind you, Zeta,” her mysterious male urged, his gruff
words spoken in the universal language.

She extracted a dagger from her waist sheath and pivoted. A
giant featherless creature swooped silently downward, the weather-worn hide on
its wings stretched tight. Its talons reached out for her, its prey. Its huge
beak opened, revealing multiple rows of sharp teeth, the beast designed for
killing.

Zeta snapped her wrist, releasing her favorite dagger, the
action as natural to her as breathing. The weapon whistled through the air and
lodged with a juicy smack in the creature’s right eye socket, bursting the
eyeball. The beast screeched and reared upward, flapping its great wings.

Zeta grabbed another dagger and carefully aimed. The
creature rolled in the cloudless sky, spinning away from her, its velocity too
fast for her to lock upon.

“Your hide is mine.” She ran after the predator, determined
to down her attacker and retrieve her mother’s dagger, that last gift from her
now-dead parent having once served as her only protection.

You have to look after yourself now, Zeta.
Her
mother’s final words echoed in her ears as she sprinted, her gaze fixed on the
creature’s fading silhouette, its monstrous form etched against the bright sun.

With three more beats of its great wings, the animal surged
out of range, and Zeta skidded to a stop, sand spraying her ugly black boots,
her clothes soaked with perspiration.

“No thief, no bounty and now, one less dagger.” She kicked a
large red boulder, its varying shades of color delineating centuries of soil
settlement. “This day couldn’t get any worse.” Zeta sheathed her remaining
dagger, disgusted by her failure.

“It could have been worse. You could have been eaten by the
rock vulture.”

Him again.
“Is that what happened to you?” She cocked
her head, her hair sliding over her shoulders, hanging loose, her fastener also
lost during the assault. “Are you a spirit, destined to walk the sands of
Chamele
4
, warning others of your mistake?”

“I’m no spirit, little hunter. And I don’t make mistakes.” A
muscled form materialized from the nearby wall of rock, his skin turning from
red to tan, his long hair darkening to black. He was dauntingly large, his
biceps huge and defined, his broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist
and then disappearing into nothing.

“You have no legs.” Zeta frowned, meeting his midnight gaze,
his face as hard as the stone he faded into. “What are you?”

His lips quirked upward. “I have legs.” A long silver scar
slashed down his cheek from his left eye to the corner of his mouth. “My
invisibility, as you call it, is for your benefit. I’m in hunting mode and
Chameles
hunt naked.” He spread his fingers and long, deadly claws extended from his
knuckles.

“Oh.” Zeta’s face heated, the urge to see him, all of him,
tremendous.
Is he as big all over?
A pulse throbbed deep in her womb,
her starved sex drive demanding her attention, too much of her life spent
alone, untouched, emotionally safe.

I don’t need him.
She bit the inside of her cheek,
smothering her arousal with pain.
I don’t need anyone.

He breathed deeply, his nostrils flaring, his chest rising
and falling, the sun’s rays casting shadows over his muscles. “This isn’t the
time nor place for rutting,
gerel
.” His dark eyes glittered. “The rock
vulture is a vengeful creature. She’ll return.”

Zeta instinctively stepped closer, drawn to him. “She’ll
return with my dagger.” She touched her empty sheath, feeling its loss.

His gaze remained locked on her face, his focus thrilling.
“She’ll return with her flock. They’ll peck your stubborn skull open and feast
on your brains.” He retracted his claws, reached out and circled her wrist with
his fingers. “Come.” He dragged her forward, his grip unbreakable.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,
Chamele
.” Zeta
leaned back, digging her heels into the sand, slowing his progress.

“My name is Khan.” He tugged on her arm and she winced, her
muscles straining. “Walk or be carried. That is your choice.”

“Suck on a loaded gun, Khan.” Zeta clasped a rock
outcropping with her free hand. “I need my dagger back.” She yanked on the
wrist he’d restrained, struggling to liberate herself from his barbarian
clutches.

Khan held her easily, standing before her as though he was
one of the giant unmovable stone spires surrounding them, not a bead of sweat
forming on his slightly sloping forehead. “I’ll supply you with everything you
need.”

“I doubt that,” she grumbled, tiring, her energy dissipating
under the hot sun. “Unless you have a bounty on that arrogant head of yours.”

“I have several bounties on my arrogant head.” Khan raised
his chin proudly, his countenance harsh and unforgiving. “The lowest bounty
would pay for your ship three times over.”

“Sure.” Zeta snorted, a bounty that large reserved for the
deadliest of criminals. “And I’m the empress of
Chamele 4
, queen of all
you survey.”

“
Chamele 4
is a hunter planet only, unfit for
permanent settlement.” Khan informed her, his voice flat, devoid of any humor.
“And
Chameles
have no Empresses. We are fierce warriors. We have
Warlords and their ladies.” He pressed his fingertips into her wrist, his touch
appealingly possessive, as though he had claimed her. “I offer you the
Warlord’s lady position on
Chamele
2
, a lush, rich planet.”

“I’m no one’s lady.”
He sounds serious and he looks as
tough as the planet he inhabits.
Zeta studied him through lowered
eyelashes.
Could he have a bounty on him?
She twisted her arm, unable to
loosen his grip yet too stubborn to give up. “You shouldn’t joke to a bounty
hunter about being wanted.”

“I don’t joke and I lose patience with you, foolish female.”
Khan stalked closer to her and a frisson of excitement zipped up Zeta’s spine.
“You’ve made your choice.” He released her wrist, leaving a ring of pink on her
pale skin.

“I’m free.” She held up her hand, her triumph tempered with
disappointment, expecting, needing, wanting more resistance from her brutish
savage.

“Not free. Never free,” Khan rumbled. “Carried, it is.” He
spanned her waist with his huge hands and slung her over his shoulder. Her
stomach collided with unyielding muscle and she gasped, the air whooshing from
her lungs.

“Let me go.” Zeta twisted her torso, pushing against his
shoulders and yanking on his long hair, the strands surprisingly soft, the
musky scent of him filling her nostrils.

He strode quickly toward her ship, leaving no footprints in
the sand, no trace they’d ever been there.
I could disappear forever and no
one would ever find me.
Zeta renewed her efforts to escape.

“Stop squirming.” Khan smacked her fabric-covered ass hard,
an arousing warmth radiating from the point of contact.

“Stop carrying me.” Zeta leveled a blow where his invisible
ass should be, the flat of her palm connecting with firm skin, the sound
shockingly loud. He grunted, jerking forward, and his speed increased, the
barren landscape blurring around them.

“Put me down.” She kicked her feet into his stomach and
pummeled his back with her fists, his body impressively solid.

“I said stop.” He cuffed her ass, the impact sharp, the
delectable pain drawing more moisture from her already drenched pussy.

“Never,” Zeta spat, wiggling, grinding against him, striving
to find release. Khan’s big hand rained down on her curves, heating her skin
through her clothes, rewarding her with the punishment she craved.

This was what all of my previous casual encounters were
missing. This dominance. This pain.
Zeta writhed, stroking his back wildly
with her fingers, passion coiling around her tighter and tighter.
Close. So
close.
She panted, tilting her ass into his descending hand.

“No.” Khan stopped abruptly and Zeta gritted her teeth,
swallowing her scream of frustration, one blow away from fulfillment. “Not yet,
gerel
.” He propped her against the side of her ship, trapping her between
the metal panels and his body, his thighs wedged between hers, solid yet
unseen. “You won’t come until I allow you to.”

“I’ll come when I want to come and I want to come right
now.” She flicked her leg coverings open and defiantly slipped her fingers
inside, reaching for her clit, determined to finish the job her own damn self.
I
don’t need him.

“No.” Khan pulled her hands out of her leg coverings, his
dark eyes turbulent. He appeared as aroused as she was, his chest heaving and
his invisible cock pushing against her, long and hard and thick. “You’ll listen
to me first.”

“No.” She glared at him, arching into his body, silently
asking for more.

“Yes.” He spread her arms to the sides, looming over her, in
complete control. With his claws, his size, his brawn, he could strip her naked
and fuck her senseless, taking whatever he wanted from her restrained body, and
she couldn’t stop him. Zeta breathed heavily, more stimulated than she’d ever
been in her long, solitary life.

“When I release you, you’ll return to your ship.” Khan
leaned his forehead against hers, the tips of their noses touching, his breath
wafting on her lips, his tenderness unexpected, confusing. “You’ll lock the
door behind you and you’ll open it only for me.”

“Why would I open it for you?” she asked, clinging to her
rebellion, showing him no weakness.

“Because I’ll give you this.” Khan cupped her mons and she
inhaled sharply, his strength, his grasp, thrilling. “I’ll give you what you
need.” He smiled smugly, kneading her with his fingers, building her desire,
her thighs shaking uncontrollably under him.

“I’ll lay you upon that rock so all of
Chamele
4
can see your passion, your beauty.” He glanced at the flat boulder near the
path they’d taken and Zeta swallowed hard, her throat dry, her nipples taut,
aching for him.

His gaze returned to hers. “Then I’ll climb on top of your
small body and mount you with one hard thrust, filling your wet pussy with my
big cock.” He thrust his hips forward, driving that big cock against her, and
she moaned, trembling with need. “I’ll rut into you with such force, such
vigor, that you’ll scream my name, and I won’t stop until you beg for my seed.”

Stars.
Zeta curled her fingers into fists, digging
her fingernails into the palms of her hands. “I never beg,” she whispered,
blatantly lying, a plea for more of his rough touch dangling on the tip of her
tongue.

His lips lifted in a smile, an emotion resembling respect
reflecting in his eyes. “You will for me.” He pushed down with his thumb,
pressing the seam of her leg coverings against her clit, and she froze, unable
to move, to think, to breathe.

“Come for me, Zeta.” He rubbed, grinding the coarse cloth
into her sensitive flesh, giving her the roughness she craved, pushing her over
the edge.