CHAPTER FIFTEEN
She walked up the ramp and into the ship, where she headed straight to the frig for a cold bottle of juice. She was thirsty, and still shaky in the aftermath of adrenaline.
By the time she'd finished, Arek stepped inside. "Everything all right?" she asked.
He nodded, then seemed to shake off whatever he'd been thinking about.
The hatch closed behind him, he unfastened his helmet and pulled it off, then reached to do the same for Mia, his big hands gentle. And such was her state of mind that she let him, standing as docile as a child as he unfastened her vest, then her body armor, tossing it all on the floor, and reaching to tip her chin up, examining her face with the fires of rage burning in his pale gaze. "This face should not be bleeding," he muttered. "Get in the shower-dry, Mia. Then we'll tend to those cuts."
"You're bleeding more than I am," she protested. "You first. I'll get the med kit."
He gave her a warning look, and pointed at the lav. She swallowed, and went where he pointed. Some battles were best ceded.
She undressed, stuffed her clothing into the cryo-cleanse unit and paused to bring up a holomirror. She gasped when she saw her face—it was covered with smears of blood, a nasty scratch across her cheek, and blood trickling from her temple. Her neck bore the worst wound, a nasty slice under her ear.
When the hot water of the shower sprayed on her, she remembered the scratches on her legs, hissing pain. But then she gritted her teeth and got busy, washing and drying herself in the jets of warm air. The cuts continued to bleed, however, and soon she was dry, naked, and wishing she'd brought the medkit in with her.
The hatch slid open.
Mia let out a mrrowp of shock, clapping both hands to her mons. Arek stood there, clad only in pants, his upper half bare.
And he was... magnificent. His shoulders were broad, she'd known that, and his arms powerful. But she hadn't known his hard chest was such an inviting plain of satiny skin, lightly tanned and spangled with a few freckles, or that his male nipples were small pinkish coins. That his hard, ridged abdomen was so... lickable. Or that a faint trail of ginger curls traveled down into his pants, inviting a female to learn where it went from there.
One of his hands moved, lifting toward her. She blinked, stirred from her trance, and looked at the cloth he held. It was a soft towel. She reached one hand for it, and tugged, but he held on.
She looked up. His bloody face was hard in a new way, his eyes hooded as his gaze traveled down over her and back up, lingering on her bare breasts. She took her hand away from her mons, set it on her hip and glared at him. "See anything you like?"
He made a deep sound in his chest, staring at what she'd uncovered. "Oh, I like it all, kitten. Every sweet millimeter."
Then his gaze met hers, and she lost her breath, realizing that the fire inside her, now turning liquid and traveling both down into her loins and up, tightening her breasts, her nipples to stiff points, wasn't anger. It was sheer, powerful, heady desire.
She wanted him more than she'd ever wanted a male. And the slow smile curving up his mouth said he knew it.
"Come out, kitten," he told her, his deep voice enwrapping her in intimate heat, as surely as if he were touching her. "And let me in. I need to get cleaned up before I touch you." He let go of the towel, and she lifted it to cover herself, holding her arm over her breasts.
"Who says you're touching me?" But her voice was low and breathy, and probably didn't fool him anymore than it did her.
His gaze heated even more. "It's gonna happen. You have a choice—do you want me clean, or dirty?"
She wanted him now, she wanted him anyway he chose. But part of her was also backing away in feminine caution. He was male—bigger, more powerful, and he wanted her under him, opening to him, allowing him the right to her body.
She raised her brows and gave him a haughty look. "Have your showerdry. Then I'll let you know what I decide."
He stepped back just enough to let her brush past him. Since she hadn't bothered to cover her bare ass, she knew exactly where his gaze was as she walked away. "You do that, kitten."
The towel wrapped around her sarong-style, she hurried up and tended to her own cuts and scratches, hissing as the medgel touched the cut on her neck and the one on her face. But the clear gel did its work quickly, soothing the sting as well as solidifying in a malleable layer over the wounds. She was applying it to her legs when he walked into her sleep cubby.
She looked up and then set the tube of medgel down on the coverlet as he prowled close.
He wore nothing, not a single stitch of clothing covering his tall, lean, muscled body. And from head to toe, he was male rampant.
Odd, she thought hazily as he moved in on her, she'd always considered the broader, brawnier Tyger males the epitome of male perfection. But Arek was... well, there was not a part of him she would change. Even the look in his crystalline eyes that said she was his for the taking.
She rose, and gestured to the bed. "Let me care for your cuts."
Without a word, he sat, hands fisted loosely on his thighs as she picked up the medgel, touched his head to tilt it so she could better see the cut across his cheekbone. His skin was hot under her fingertips, his jaw smooth, freshly-shaven. This close, his scent filled her nostrils, heady and intoxicating as if he exuded legals from his pores along with pheromones.
She was breathing quickly, her fingers steady but the rest of her trembling as she carefully painted medgel along the oozing cut and then over the top. He didn't move or flinch, only his thick, auburn lashes lifting as he looked to her face.
"Settle, kitten," he murmured. "It doesn't hurt me."
"It has to," she breathed. "You're not impervious to pain."
He lifted his hands as she moved on to another cut on his temple, and the towel slipped, falling away. "With you this close, I can't feel a thing," he said, and put his hands on her. "Okay, I feel you… like silk in my hands."
Somehow between one breath and the next, she found herself lifted and set astride his thighs, both of them nude.
She mewed with shock and pleasure as his cock filled the yielding furrow of her sex, sliding against her wet labia as he pulled her close, one big, calloused hand full of her bare ass, the other hand sliding up over her back in a slow caress, not stopping until his hand was cupped over her nape under the fall of her hair. Holding her captive as he tipped his head and kissed her.
"You're still bleeding," she mumbled against his lips. "More cuts on your arm, and your neck."
"They'll wait," he told her, and kissed her again, this time claiming her mouth with his and driving all thought of talk straight out of her head.
She kissed him back, starving for the taste of him, for his tongue against hers, his plush lips suctioning on her own. And for his big, hard body under her hands, satin skin over the bulge and play of muscle. For the way he quivered under her touch, holding her so close that when she moved, arching her back to ride him, the satiny rod of his cock slid against her just where she needed him.
He groaned, his chest abrading her nipples as it expanded with his breath. He slid long fingers between her ass cheeks, finding her labia and driving one long, calloused finger inside her, testing her readiness for him. The stretch of that motion and the rub of her swollen clitoris on his cock sent her over the edge. She mewed into his mouth as pleasure imploded in her pussy.
"Fuck," he grated, shuddering under her, his cock jerking against her mons. "I need you now."
"Yes," she breathed, stroking his shoulders eagerly, his skin hot and damp under her touch. "Yes, Arek." More, she wanted more of him. She wanted all of him.
"You want to ride me, or you want me over you, taking you?" he asked, nuzzling her throat, his hand tightening possessively on her nape.
"I don't care," she managed, nearly cumming again as he nipped the juncture of her throat and shoulder.
"Then I'll take you," he growled, and the room tumbled around her as she was flipped onto her back, with him between her thighs. He leaned up on one elbow, watching as he took himself in hand and opened her with the broad head of his cock, forging a little way inside.
"Fuck, so fucking gorgeous. Tawny skin, dark curls, and pink pussy. So small, but you'll take my cock, won't you?"
"Yes. Arek, oh goddess." He was big, too big, but somehow just right, filling her to bursting, stretching her until her pussy almost burned, and then filling her so tightly that when he came down over her and kissed her again, all she wanted was for him to stay inside her like this.
He flexed his lean hips, drawing out and then thrusting back in again and she mewled her pleasure to him. "Fuck yes," he told her, reaching down to draw her leg up. "Knew you'd be a noisy one. Wrap your legs around me and hang on, kitten. I'm going to make you scream, and then I'm going to make you purr."
If he had not been distracting her so effectively, she would have hissed at him for his arrogance. But he thrust harder and faster, his amazing cock raking and caressing her deep inside, and all she could do was cling to him and meet him thrust for thrust, their bodies slapping together in perfect rhythm, pleasure rising through her in a relentless tide that carried her up, up and then flung her out into utter, carnal bliss.
He tipped his head down hard beside hers on the pillow and stiffened in her arms, his cock pulsing inside her, heat flooding her depths. He let out a muted roar, muffled by the pillow and her hair, and shuddered long and hard.
Then he moved again in her, slow lazy strokes that drew out her pleasure, making her purr.
Slowly, Arek lifted his head enough to look down at her. His handsome face was flushed, damp with sweat, his eyes heavy. He gave her a smile laden with smug, male satisfaction. "Like the way you purr for me, kitten."
Then, while she was considering whether she was too happy to snarl at him for being arrogant, he patted her hip—her legs were still wrapped around him, her body reluctant to part with his. "Now unwrap your pretty legs, and let me up. We need to get to my team's compound and share intel."
And that, it seemed, was all the post-coital cuddling she was going to get. Well, okay then. It was just sex, that was all.
Until he shattered her irritation by giving her a long look as he rose onto his hands and knees. He set his palm on her chest, collaring her for a moment, and then stroked his hand slowly down, over her breasts, her abdomen, and her flat belly, pausing with it cupped over her mons, to shake his head once with clear regret.
"So much more I want to do with you," he told her. "Next time I'll taste your pretty breasts, and your sweet slit."
Cheerful again, Mia sat up and flipped her legs past his knees, slipping off the bed to head for the lav for a quick wash. "I may have a few other ideas for you as well, Aurelian."
* * *
Mia disappeared into the showerdry, and Arek dragged on his uniform pants and black tee, then ran his fingers through his hair before sinking onto the bed. He pulled a pair of clean socks from his duffel, but instead of donning them, he sat for a moment, pulling absently at the stretchy fabric.
His body was still relaxed, sated. The sex had been beyond a doubt some of the best he'd had. His little Tygress was as hot as a magflint, and as quick to fire. God, driving into the depths of her hot, sweet little body had been mind-blowing.
It was just... what was he doing with her? They had survived two explosive, nearly deadly challenges together. And this last time, she'd fought at his side like a berserker, killing bots with her bare hands. Well, Tyger-clawed hands. He shook his head—he hoped she never came after him with those.
And that was the crux, wasn't it? She was a Tygean, not Aurelian. And no matter how hot their passion, no matter how much he wanted her again... this was all they'd ever have. After the race, she'd go back to Bryght, and he'd go back to some Aurelian military post. Possibly on Bryght, though, if the Aurelian Ruling Council had their way and the Tygeans invited them to set up an embassy there. Arek could visit her, at the very least.
Although from what she'd said about her brother, Arek doubted the man would appreciate his younger sister being a pussy call for an alien warrior.
Unless Arek found a way to make her more.
"Ah, Prince, here you are," cooed an all-too-familiar voice.
A holovid image of the Egg reporter sprang up before him. "Time for another little visit. And I have something very interesting to show you."
"Starry," Arek said, not even trying to sound polite.
And then the Egg played him Mia's first interview. And he was left with her words ringing in his ears like unpleasant echoes that would not stop.
'As a race partner?' she'd sneered on holovid. 'I find D'Arek A'Renoq cold, cruel and exceedingly arrogant, like most of his kind. As his partner, I will have to be the voice of reason and temperance... if I don't kill him first.'
He set his jaw, and when he strode out into the cabin, his gaze was cold, his demeanor that of a warrior, not a besotted lover. She thought him cold? She hadn't seen anything yet.
Mia wasn't sure, but as she slipped into the showerdry, she thought she heard Arek mutter, "That's what I'm afraid of."
He was worried that they'd have more good sex? What was that about? Her smiled slipped away, and as the showerdry came on again, the warm water could not reach the chill of doubt niggling inside her.
Their sex had been fabulous, the best ever, at least for her. Not that she had that many to compare him to.
But dared she trust him with more of her, such as even the smallest piece of her heart? Or was he just another over-bearing male, who wanted her only on his terms?
And did he truly respect her? He'd been so sure at first that she was useless baggage. He'd even urged her to stay on the ship, out of his way, and let him handle the challenges. Had that been out of chivalry, or because he thought so little of her?
Freshened up, she slipped back into her sleep cubby. Needing all the confidence she could get, she took the time to pull her hair up, falling down her back in waves, and apply a bit of smoky eye-makeup and lipgloss. She wore one of her own tees, a caramel lii silk knit, with the black pants of her GSR flight suit.
Thus, when the Egglantian reporter appeared and offered to show her something fascinating, even though Mia was highly suspicious of Octiron's motives in this little tete-a-tete, she acquiesced as graciously as possible.
A few moments later, she was no longer smiling, nor did she expect to do so again in the near future. Not until she was rid of Arek A'Renoq.
Oh, Goddess. The way he'd raised his brow and curled his lip in that interview—in front of the entire universe.
'Tygeans?' he'd said. 'As a race, they are vain, sly, and quick to anger. With one of them as my partner, I will be the voice of logic and reason... if I'm not forced to immobilize her to keep her out of trouble.'
He found her quick to anger, did he? Oh, he hadn't seen anything yet.