Dark Cure Page 5

  “Yes.” Her head tilted back. “That is—”

  He captured her lips once more, claiming her mouth before she could deny him. She pulled away. He cupped the back of her head, holding her to him, and whipped his tongue against hers, punishing her for her resistance.

  She matched him strike for strike, slapping her flesh against his. His chest shook with mirth. His gerel was fierce. He liked that…a bit too much. She made him dizzy with passion.

  He leaned more and more of his weight against her until she had to recline, her strength no offset to his. Sliding his body over hers, he pinned her in place. She was now at his mercy, unable to escape him.

  Not that she would admit that. She thumped his shoulders with her fists, her beating more arousing than hurtful, and arched her back, attempting to push him off her.

  That action pressed her breasts against his chest. It was an offering no male could resist.

  Yet he had to do exactly that if he wanted their relationship to progress.

  “You want my mouth on your curves, don’t you?” He drew his head back and met her gaze. The passion in her eyes scorched him to the bone. “I’ll give you what you desire…for a price.”

  He wouldn’t allow her to use him solely for his skills in the private chamber. If she wanted him, she would have all of him.

  “Tell me one thing about yourself I don’t already know.” That was his demand. “And I’ll grant your request.”

  “I’m not bargaining with you.” She frowned at him.

  “Then I won’t do this to your breasts.” He licked her bottom lip, inhaled it, played with it. She wiggled under him, her nipples teasing his pecs.

  He slowly closed his teeth over her flesh and she lifted against him, her spine bowing. A needy sound came from her throat. His human liked pain with her pleasure.

  He released her bottom lip and she sagged against the sleeping support. Her gaze was dazed. Satisfaction filled him. He had done that to her.

  He’d do more if she capitulated. Oghul looked at her expectantly.

  She sighed. “I’m the lead medic in the Refuge.”

  “That was one of the first things I learned about you.” He wanted more, something that would help him understand her.

  She glared at him.

  He maintained her gaze, not backing down. She wouldn’t appreciate his retreat, and their relationship couldn’t move forward unless she shared information about herself.

  “I’ve worked hard for that role.” She glanced toward the schematics for the ships. “And I won’t give that up.” Her gaze returned to his face. “Not for a male, not for offspring, not for a domicile and a lifespan of luxury.”

  “You can have all of those things and still be a medic.” Many of the medics on Chamele 2 had warriors and offspring and domiciles.

  “The designs on my wall tell me I can’t have everything.” She rolled her eyes.

  He glanced at the images. His gerel had mentioned earlier they were the reason she wouldn’t spend more than one planet rotation with him. She wouldn’t make her mother’s mistakes.

  One of those mistakes must have been giving up her role for a male or an offspring.

  “I told you something about myself.” His enigmatic female stuck out her chest. “Now suck my breasts.”

  That was an order he couldn’t refuse. He bent his head and mouthed over her curves. She sank her fingers into his hair. A small smile lifted her lips.

  He would prove her wrong, show her she could be a medic and his gerel, ease those fears. Healing was important to her, appeared to be key to her happiness. He would ensure she didn’t have to give it up, not for him, not for anyone else.

  And he would reward her for sharing that truth. He licked around her right breast and she hummed, that erotic sound stripping his control.

  Her grip on his hair tightened. She might be reluctant to share her concerns about their relationship but she was open about what she liked during bonding.

  That made pleasing her physically much easier. There was no guessing, only feeling, savoring, showing his devotion.

  He squeezed and released her left breast as he teased its twin with his mouth, circling her nipple, nearing yet not touching that taut pink flesh.

  She squirmed under him, her face flushed, her eyes shining. This beautiful, strong, passionate being was his. Pride and wonder heated his soul. He would overcome any obstacle, solve any problem, fight battle after battle to keep her by his side.

  Not merely for this rest cycle. Permanently.

  He switched breasts, ravishing the left with his lips and the right with one of his hands. She panted, every inhalation pushing her curves into his mouth, almost smothering him with her bounty. Her fingernails dug into his scalp, that hurt thrilling him.

  He was as aroused as she was, his balls aching, his shaft hard against her. When she found release, he would also.

  He yearned to be inside her when that happened, wanted her body enveloping his. “I’ll remain as still as possible.” He wouldn’t give her more pain than she wished. “I need to feel you around me.”

  “Yes.” She spread her legs, angling her hips to receive him.

  Zondoo. She was magnificent.

  He entered her slowly, relishing the rush of warm wetness up his shaft. She fit him like a sheath fit a dagger, her form custom-made for his.

  He meshed completely with his gerel and gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to come. His instincts, primitive and savage, demanded he claim her again immediately.

  That couldn’t happen. He ruthlessly clung to his control. His Medic would remove both of his balls if he selfishly took his own pleasure first.

  The pressure inside him eased. He rounded his back, licked and nibbled and mouthed over her breasts, showing them the adoration they warranted.

  His gerel undulated under him, brushing her skin against his, gently massaging his shaft with her inner walls, sending waves of sensation crashing over him.

  They teased each other, driving their desires upward. He rumbled with wanting, the sound vibrating his lips, and she clasped his skull tighter, holding him to her.

  Her grip was unnecessary. There was nowhere he’d rather be.

  He pressed his face into her curves, slowly working his way toward her left nipple. She gasped and wiggled, her responses crazing him.

  “Warrior.” She pulled him toward his destination. “I need. I need.”

  “Oghul.” He wanted to prolong their second bonding, make it last. His form had a different agenda, his cock swelling inside her.

  “Oghul.” A sexy little growl followed his name. His gerel was growing impatient. “You know what I want.” She bared her teeth, her aggression stripping more of his restraint. “Give it to me.”

  “You are demanding.” He loved that about her.

  Her eyes flashed. “If you don’t—”

  He bit her nipple and her entire body straightened, his female almost shooting off the sleeping support. She screamed, clamping down on his shaft, severing his control.

  He roared, driving deeper into her, and exploded. Cum shot from his cock with an intensity that rocked both of them.

  She clenched around him and released, clenched around him and released, draining every drop of his essence, every bit of his energy.

  Bliss hit him again and again, smacking the thoughts from his brain, causing stars to detonate in front of his eyes. Every muscle in his body flexed, tremors rocking him, while she danced against him, quivering, quaking.

  Not wanting to flatten his gerel, he battled to hold himself upward. Sweat dripped down his back. His arms violently shook.

  “Can’t.” His limbs folded under him. He collapsed on top of her.

  “Rest.” She wrapped her arms and legs around him, absorbing his weight without protest. “We’ll fuck once more before you leave.”

  His eyes closed and his lips curled upward. His gerel was insatiable.

  Chapter Five

  Gisella woke at sunrise. He
r body was sprawled over her big barbarian. Her cheek rested on his chest. He held her, cupping her ass with his huge palms, his eyes closed.

  She studied his scarred face, perturbed by the emotions churning inside her. They’d fucked three times over the rest cycle and she wanted him again. That had never happened with any other male.

  They couldn’t be bonded. She slipped off him, her bare feet smacking against the floor tiles. That possibility wasn’t to be considered.

  Chameles must exude higher levels of pheromones. Her gaze drifted along his form. Her barbarian must be more than her previous partners in all ways.

  The body part she was admiring hardened. “If you continue ogling me like that, you’ll find yourself flat on your back.” Oghul growled that warning.

  The damn male wasn’t asleep.

  “I have to go to the medic bay.” She dragged her gaze upward to meet his. “You can see yourself out.”

  “I’m walking with you to the medic bay.” He swung his legs over the sleeping support, sitting up. “I’ll train while you tend to your patients.”

  “I’m tending to my patients for two shifts.” Her role encompassed most of her waking moments. “And we’re not seeing each other again.”

  “I’ll compress my training into that short duration.” He shrugged, the muscles in his chest rippling.

  Into that short duration? She frowned. How long did he train every planet rotation? “If beings view us together—”

  “They won’t view me.” He stood, unashamedly naked. “I’m aware this isn’t Chamele 2. I won’t embarrass you and walk around the Refuge with my bare ass on display.”

  It was a fine bare ass, as she recalled. “You can accompany me to the medic bay.” She didn’t have a logical reason to deny him that task. “But then we’re parting…for good.”

  “I’ll meet you before your second shift is done.” He picked up a viewscreen. “I’m taking images of your designs.”

  She didn’t know why he wanted images of her mother’s work. He was a barbarian, not a ship fabricator.

  His interest in the designs pleased her, however. Not that she’d ever admit that to him.

  “Do what you want.” She grabbed her flight suit and white jacket, turned and stalked into the cleansing chamber.

  “I usually do.” His voice followed her. “Your mother had a steady hand.”

  Fuck. How had he figured out who had designed the ships?

  “She had help toward the end of her lifespan.” The pain inhibitors robbed her mother of her fine motor skills.

  “You can’t save every being.” That was his scarily perceptive reply.

  “If I have the proper equipment, I can,” she muttered.

  He continued to talk to her as she went through her sunrise rituals, cleaning herself, donning the garments, tidying her hair. She ignored his probing comments, refusing to give him more information about herself.

  Their relationship was over. She was dedicated to her role. He was returning to his home planet. One rest cycle was all they were to share.

  Maybe if she repeated that silently enough times, her body would get the message. It had been mere moments and she already yearned for his touch, aching for him.

  “What did you do to me, barbarian?” she grumbled, taking one last look at her image in the reflective surface.

  “We’ve bonded.” His hearing was better than any human’s. “You’ve done the same thing to me.”

  The desire would wear off. Soon. Her body would forget him. The emotional solitude would be her normal once again.

  She reluctantly exited the cleansing chamber. He was looking down at the private viewscreen.

  His long black hair flowed down his back, the tips of the tendrils grazing his fine ass. Every part of his form was sculpted, not a pinch of excess flesh on him.

  He was the image of a savage warrior, naked and untamed. Her need for him escalated.

  His nostrils flared. His head lifted, turned, his dark-eyed gaze meeting hers. Light flashed in his eyes, the expression of his admiration of her not requiring any words.

  “Your information on Chameles is limited.” His openness about snooping through her devices earned him her begrudged appreciation. He wasn’t trying to hide his activities.

  “We only have one Chamele in the settlement.” She slipped her feet into her boots, fastened them. “He avoids answering my questions.” She straightened.

  That moved her into her warrior’s waiting arms. Before she could step back, he kissed her. She drew back. He splayed his fingers over her hips, holding her in place.

  One last embrace wouldn’t change anything. She capitulated, opening to him. Their tongues tangled and tumbled.

  Oghul must have found a freshening square during his explorations. He tasted good. She sucked on him, drinking in his flavor.

  The tension inside her dissipated, leaving satisfaction in its wake, a rightness that both appealed to her and scared her.

  She wanted him and he wanted her. His hard cock pressed against her stomach.

  There were other medics. She could forgo her duties and spend the planet rotation naked with him. No one would—

  Fuck. She froze. What was she thinking?

  “No.” She pushed at his chest.

  “No?” He backed away from her, dropping his arms.

  Their gazes met. His jaw firmed and she braced for an argument.

  “No.” He nodded, surprising her with that response. “You have to tend to patients and I have to train my males.”

  He understood about her priorities because he had priorities too. “Thank you.”

  She placed her gun, handheld device, and emergency medical pack in her pockets. They were always on her form.

  Gisella couldn’t look at him, couldn’t talk to him. Her control was that frayed. She gathered her things and walked out of her private chambers.

  The barbarian followed her. Closely. He placed one of his big palms on the small of her back.

  “You said you wouldn’t—” She looked over her shoulder and stopped talking. He wasn’t visible. Only she knew he was touching her.

  “I do what I say I’ll do,” he murmured into her ear, his breath caressing her skin. “You can believe my words, gerel.”

  There was no need to believe his words because the two of them were over. She walked through the structure, passing warriors. They shrank back from her.

  She didn’t like being feared, but the alternative was being constantly bothered by horny males. That would make it impossible to hold her role.

  “My brother, like all Chameles, was taught to avoid answering outsiders’ questions.” Oghul’s deep voice stroked along her spine. “The less the enemy knows about us, the more likely we are to defeat them.”

  “I don’t care about battle strategies,” she whispered, trying not to move her lips. Appearing as though she was talking to herself wouldn’t gain her respect from other beings. “I require knowledge about his physique should I ever have to treat him.”

  Judging by Oghul’s scars, she doubted Hulagu would ever seek her help. The Chameles clearly didn’t believe in medics.

  That was why a relationship with Oghul was impossible.

  She strode through the doors. The rising sun was too low to be seen, concealed by the structures. The sky was painted pink and orange.

  Merchants set up their stalls. Supplies were delivered by other beings. Residents left their domiciles, waving at their neighbors.

  Not all beings had a roof over their heads during the past rest cycle. Some males slept in the open, slumped against structures. The pathway cleaners navigated around them.

  She surveyed everyone she passed, looking for signs of illness, watching for the rise and fall of chests, the hint of injury. Disease could spread quickly and the health of the Refuge residents was her responsibility.

  “I’ll transfer knowledge about my physique.” Her warrior continued to trail her, a solid presence protecting her back. “You can ask me
any questions you wish.”

  She wanted to do that, her curiosity piqued, yet she resisted. Her interest in his kind would send the wrong message to her persistent barbarian.

  “I’m not seeing you again.” The information for her databases could be obtained another way.

  “You’ll want to see me.” He spread his fingers, touching more of her.

  “I’m a grown female.” Irritation rose within her. “I know what I want. I—”

  “Come here, pretty female.” A bleary-eyed humanoid male lunged out of the shadows. He grabbed her by the shoulders.

  Terror coursed through Gisella. She searched her pockets for her gun.

  The stranger yanked her forward, toward him. “I want—”

  There was a crack and he abruptly released her. His arms dropped, hanging unnaturally by his sides. Bone pierced his skin. Blood spurted.

  His face darkened. His mouth opened.

  He flew backward, howling with pain. His body slammed against a structure, the impact announced by a sickening crunch.

  The male’s wailing stopped. He slid to the stone-covered ground, silent and still, no longer a threat to anyone.

  Gisella shook. The male was badly hurt. He would feel the repercussions of what he’d done for many planet rotations, perhaps solar cycles.

  But that wasn’t enough for her. He had touched a medic. The reprimand for that offense was set, had to be delivered.

  She approached her attacker, her gun in her right hand. The male didn’t move. She doubted he was aware of her presence.

  “Don’t touch him.” Oghul’s voice sported a hard edge. “You’re not tending to that male. Not here. And not in the medic bay.”

  “I’m not tending to him.” She pressed the muzzle of her weapon to the male’s forehead and tapped the trigger.

  The pain jolted him into consciousness. He screamed, vibrating against the wall. Urine scented the air. Blood gushed from his broken arms, painting the stone crimson.

  “Any male who touches a medic…without permission”—she added that requirement, differentiating the male’s unwanted actions from her barbarian’s welcomed advances—“is zapped.”