KIVIAN

“So, you got all of the crystal?” Fran’s eyes are still reddened from her weeping fit earlier, making me feel guilty despite the beaming smile on her face. I rub my stomach, not sure if I’m more upset that I’m going to have a sore gut for the next day, or that Fran was so terrified she felt she had to attack.

It’s the latter, of course. I hate that my mate was so frightened. “The crystal’s unimportant,” I say, and gesture that she should come sit by me on my bed.

We’re in my quarters. I needed to bathe after working up a sweat in the ooli ship, since they keep the temperature at a swampy heat that made me swim in my own juices moments after we boarded. Fran followed me in, still rattled. The others are in the mess hall, celebrating our victory and the crystal we’ve brought on board, as well as all of the other plunder we took while on board. We should join them, but I think Fran needs a few minutes to herself to gather her thoughts…and I just need to be around her.

I’ve never felt such fear until she rammed me in the gut with a priceless Ilsi vase. Not over the vase—though I like to think of it as a retirement plan of sorts—but the fact that she was so terrified. I immediately thought she was in danger, and I’ve never felt such intense terror. Such intense need to protect another person. She’s become everything to me so very quickly.

Even thinking about her in danger still has me rattled. Truth be told, she wasn’t even at risk. The situation was handled. And yet…

We can’t go on like this.

We got the crystal from the ooli. That much is true. We cleaned out their stores and emptied their stash of credits into our own coffers. I tell myself that’s what they get for dealing with contraband. Truth is, I don’t feel bad in the slightest for stealing from them. Physical credit chits are only used to buy illegal things, like banned technology, crystals…

And slaves.

Along with trunks full of chits, two cases of crystals and enough wine and weapons to make me wonder what kind of party these ooli were going to throw, we also retrieved their ship’s logs. Included in those logs are the usual chatter…and several communications between Jth’Hnai and an unnamed trader. The ooli had lamented to him about his toy being stolen from him on Haal Ui Station and wanted a replacement. The trader agreed and made an agreement to meet up on a nearby station—a seedy one—so Jth’Hnai could pick out a new plaything, free of charge for being such a good customer.

A few months ago, I would have taken that information and robbed both the ooli when they showed up and the slaver of his credits and been on my way. Now, I can’t stop thinking about the human females that are being held captive even now. Are they strong and brave like my Fran? Or terrified?

I can’t leave them to their fate, no more than I can leave Fran to hers.

She’s not mesakkah. To our race and dozens of others, she’s nothing but a walking, talking toy. A pet. She knows nothing about our world or any of the other cultures that populate the galaxy.

All she’s ever asked for is to go home.

A month ago, I’d said no. Said I couldn’t ask that of my crew. Now, everything’s changed. Fran holds my heart in her delicate hands and I can’t bear the thought of not being able to protect her. She’ll be safest on Earth, away from all of this.

I’ll take her back to her home planet. It’s a long, dangerous journey, but she deserves happiness and a long life. As a pirate’s captive toy, I don’t know that she’ll have either. The thought makes me ache, but I can’t sacrifice my contentment for hers.

I want to immediately vid my brother and ask him how he keeps Chloe safe. How he handles the stress of having such a person as his mate, but I know the answer—he’s chosen to live as a farmer on some backwater planet where no one ever goes, because he can’t give her up. My brother, who was once one of the most feared mercenaries in six galaxies, grows crops and digs in the dirt…all for the love of a female.

Would I do the same?

“I would, but I’m a terrible farmer,” I murmur.

“What?” Fran gives me a curious look, sniffing.

I pat the bed again. “Come sit.” I want to demand it, not ask, but I know my Fran. I also know I need to touch her, if nothing else than to reassure myself that she’s all right. Her fear is gnawing at my soul.

Fran moves cautiously forward, her eyes luminous, and she sits next to me. Her gaze is locked on mine and she looks so fragile and lonely that it hurts me.

I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself—I haul her into my lap, tucking her under my chin and holding her close. She stiffens in my arms for a brief moment, and then yields when she realizes I’m not going to attack her.

“Are you all right, little one?” I murmur against her soft hair. “Shall we talk about why you’re so upset?”

She relaxes against me for a long moment, silent, and then punches my shoulder with one small fist. “You assholes left me behind.”

I want to laugh, except she’s truly upset. “It was for your safety, I promise.”

“Really? What am I supposed to do if something happens to you?”

I shake my head. “It was an easy fight. Once we boarded, the ooli ran and hid from us. No one fired a single shot. All we did was round them up and sent them into cryo-sleep. It’s one of the easiest takeovers I’ve ever had.” It was so easy, it was practically laughable. I suspect she would have enjoyed it, if she’d have been there. She would have liked to see the outraged look on Jth’Hnai’s ugly face when he realized it was us boarding his ship to rob him a second time. Ah, that was a good moment.

“The computer told me it only saw four life signs.” Her voice is hard. Flat. Accusing.

Is that why she was so panicked? “Mm. Yes, when there are people in cryo-sleep, most systems don’t count those as technically ‘alive.’ You are but you aren’t, and so it likely only picked up our signals.”

Her jaw clenches with mutinous anger, but she nods, understanding.

I’m still surprised at her frustration. “You’re angry,” I say, wonderingly, and touch a finger to her jaw. “Why?”

To my surprise, her mouth begins to tremble. “You left me.” Her voice is hoarse with emotion. “What am I supposed to do if something happens to you?”

She’s already said that once, but her emphasis changes everything. My heart pounds and my body aches with what could have been. I know what I have to do, though. She can’t stay here with us. She’s right—if anything were to happen to me, she’s a target for every deviant male on this side of the universe. “My sweet Fran,” I murmur, stroking her cheek. “I haven’t been fair to you.”

“No, you haven’t,” she murmurs, her gaze on my mouth. “You should have let me come with you.”

I don’t know whether to laugh or groan in agony. The heated looks she’s sending my way are the most delicious torture possible. She shifts on my lap and her thigh rubs against my aching cock in the most incredible—and frustrating—way. If only I’d pushed harder, taken her when I had the chance—

But then it would be that much more difficult to let her go, and let her go I must. Keffing hell, but I hate having to be virtuous. It’s not a trait that suits me well. “I wouldn’t risk you, little one.”

“You’re not risking me,” she tells me in a soft, soft voice. Her arms go around my neck and she moves closer to me. I’m helpless to resist the lure of her words, her sweet lips, her nearness. “I’m the one that’s ‘risking’ me.”

“I won’t let you—”

She puts a finger to my lips, stopping my words. “You don’t get to decide,” she whispers, and leans in to press her mouth to mine.

I’m so fascinated by this strange movement that I forget all hygiene laws and remain utterly still as her lips brush against mine. I’m not revolted—in fact, I’m more aroused than I think I’ve ever been before, and I groan. Her breath fans against my skin and I feel the tip of her tongue slide along the seam of my mouth. She pulls away a moment later, a hint of a smile on her face as she meets my gaze. “Do your people not kiss?”

“Is that what this is, then?” She’s mentioned it before. No wonder she stared so hard at my mouth just now. I can’t stop gazing at hers. It’s shiny and her lips are so fascinatingly plump. It makes me want to do that all over again.

Fran nods and rubs up against my chest, her mouth close to mine, so close that our breath is mingling. “Want me to show you how to do it?”

I shouldn’t. I should be virtuous and push her away—again, not one of my better qualities. Instead of telling her no, I groan and cup the back of her neck, leaning in and pushing my mouth against hers.

It doesn’t feel quite the same when I do it—my lips mash too enthusiastically against hers and she goes still against me, waiting. I feel like a callow youth that’s never gotten his cock wet, and I inwardly command myself to do better. She was gentle when she caressed me, and I can’t help but think that I should follow that lead. I soften my mouth, caressing her lips with mine in soft, exploratory nibbles.

That elicits a moan from her, one so throaty and achingly gorgeous that the hairs on the back of my neck stand up…along with my cock. Ah, she’s sweet, my Fran. Her lips are marvelous, and I can’t stop kissing them. Such a deviant sort of hobby, this kissing. No wonder people keep snatching humans to take as slaves—

I jerk away from her, hating my own thoughts. Slaves.

She gazes up at me with confused eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“We can’t do this,” I tell her, caressing her cheek with my thumb. “It’s not right.”

“What’s not right about it? We haven’t even gotten to the tongues yet.”

Tongues? Have mercy. I’ve never been so keffing hard. I close my eyes, trying to stay in control of my body. Her fingers play against my nape, and I can feel the swell of her large, bouncy breasts pushing against my chest, can feel the slight weight of her hips on my thigh. Why is everything about her so perfect?

I bury my face against her neck, inhaling her scent. I can’t resist a little lick of her skin there. Another hygiene law broken, but I’m not sure I care. Judging from her gasp and the way her fingers tighten against me, she doesn’t care either.

But that’s all I’ll allow myself. Reluctantly, I pull back. I can feel the throb of need from my horns to my tail, but I can’t give in to it. It’s not fair to her. “We need to talk, Fran.”

Her dark eyes widen and she gives me a worried glance. “You know, when humans say that kind of thing, it’s never good.”

“This is good, I promise.” I pull one of her hands from my shoulder and clasp it in my own, against my chest. “Remember how you said you wanted to go home? Back to your planet?”

She tilts her head and gives me a narrow-eyed look. “Don’t.”

I ignore that little statement and continue. “On the ooli ship, we pulled their records. They were going to pick up another human slave for Jth’Hnai. The trader he was in communication with mentioned him picking his choice, which means he has several. I know the others aren’t keen on traveling to Earth, but with the money we’ve made off of these shipments, we’ll have more than enough to go off the maps for a bit and take the scenic route back to your galaxy—”

“No.”

“—Along with a few friends we pick up along the way. We’ll rescue the others and bring you all back to Earth—”

“No.” Her expression gets even more stubborn.

“—And it’ll be a good deed for all and we can return to our lives, knowing that those ooli won’t be touching another human female. I think it’s a very good plan, don’t you?”

“No,” she repeats firmly. She looks furious, but her lower lip trembles. “Is that what you want, then? You want to go back to your regular life without me around?”