Enslaved
The truck rolled to a stop. The muscles in her legs flexed as she pressed on the brake. Surprise lit her eyes as she looked down. “You’re awake.”
“Just.” Was that his voice? Damn, it didn’t sound like him. It sounded as if he’d swallowed a mixture of sandpaper and gravel. And why the hell weren’t his eyes working? He could see her, but everything else was fuzzy. He should be over the effects of freezing those daemons by now.
“I thought I’d have to wake you. How are you feeling?”
“Tired. And sore.” Add to that light-headed as hell. And horny.
Shit. He hadn’t been horny in months. And after what had happened back in that motel… Yeah. He didn’t need a repeat of that. What he needed was to get his fucking head on straight and refocus on what was important. And figure out why the hell she was having this strange effect on him.
He tried to sit up and move away from her, but rethought it when the truck spun. Sweat broke out on his forehead. He lay back down.
“Wait here.” She popped the driver’s door, carefully climbed out of the cab, and threaded her fingers into his hair so she could ease his head onto the seat. The vinyl was warm from her body. And her fingertips…Tingles spread all along his scalp wherever she touched, seemed to shoot sparks straight to his dick, brought every inch of his body to life. And oh, damn, it was good. So good.
It was also gone way too fast. The door closed softly behind her. Her shoes crunching on gravel echoed through the cab, then faded. His skin chilled, and panic spread through his chest when he couldn’t hear her anymore. Darkness pressed into the truck. No streetlights, not even the moon, shone in through the windows. He tried to sit up again to figure out where she’d gone, only his head spun with such ferocity, he was afraid he might pass out.
Doooulas…
Fuck. He closed his eyes tight, pressed the heels of his hands against his eye sockets. He didn’t need this right now. Where the hell was Maelea? He breathed deep. Tried to get the damn truck to stop spinning. Tried to block out that fucking voice.
Long minutes later, the passenger door opened, and the darkness inside leaped with excitement, telling him Maelea was close. Followed by a wicked curl of heat through his abdomen and hips when she slid those tantalizing hands under his back and helped him up.
“Easy,” she whispered.
Easy. Right. Not the word he was thinking. Hot. Sultry. X-rated. All were words more suited to what was flooding his veins. All were words he shouldn’t be thinking. Her fingers skimming his bare back were electric. And her scent…sweet jasmine flowers…was way too exotic. She took the bloody towels from his stomach and dropped them on the floorboards of the truck as she helped him out. Cool air washed over his skin, tightened his nipples, did shit to cool him down.
“Where are we?” he managed, trying like hell to stay focused.
“Outside Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. Come on.”
He had no idea where they were heading, but he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to protest. So long as they weren’t going back to the colony, he didn’t care.
She wrapped an arm around his waist, propped his over her shoulder so she could help support his weight, then closed the truck door with her hip. Gravel crunched under their feet as they moved at a snail’s pace. He had the impression of tall trees in the darkness, a narrow path, a downward slope, and the sound of water lapping a shore somewhere close. But it all swirled together in front of his eyes, making zero sense. And his legs and chest ached as if he’d taken the mother of all beatings, which made walking and focusing at the same time fucking hard.
“Why?” he asked as he kicked up gravel.
“Why what?”
“Why Coeur d’Whatever?”
“We needed to get as far from that motel as we could. I should have stopped sooner but didn’t want to risk it. You need bandages.”
He had no idea what she was rambling about. The forest swayed. His feet stilled. He reached out to brace himself on the base of a pine tree so he wouldn’t go down. Holy Hades, his head was seriously fucked-up and his legs felt like they were about to give out at any second. “I’m just gonna”—he let go of her, eased down onto the ground—“sit here a minute.”
He dropped to his butt. The ground was cold but solid. Yeah, that was better. Sitting kept the spinning to a minimum. Maybe he’d just lie here awhile too. He drew in deep breaths of mossy air, rested his head back against the tree trunk.
“Come on, Gryphon. It’s just a little farther.”
“No, you go. I’m…good.” He closed his eyes. Yeah, this was definitely better. With his eyes closed, he didn’t feel like he was on a freakin’ Tilt-A-Whirl.
“Dammit, it’s wearing off,” Maelea murmured.
Her hand brushed his side. Heat seeped from her into him, reigniting the arousal he’d experienced before when she touched him. Then her soft and silky fingers grazed his jaw, tipping his face her way. “Here, drink this.”
Something small and glass brushed his lips.
He opened his mouth to tell her he didn’t want anything, that he just wanted to sleep, but sweet liquid flowed across his tongue, and on instinct, he swallowed.
Warmth immediately spread straight down his chest, exploded in his belly, sent wicked flares of electricity through every limb that bounced back and condensed in his groin. His eyes rolled back in his head. Every muscle in his body relaxed, then surged with anticipation, quad-rupling the arousal from before until it was all he could focus on.
He dragged his eyes open, looked up to find Maelea cradling his head in her lap, her shadowed face expectant and worried.
Dark hair fell like a curtain around her face, but he could still see her mesmerizing eyes. And her small nose. And that luscious, kiss-me-crazy mouth.
Gods, he wanted to taste that mouth again.
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Ss..fine. Better zan fine.”
Shit. What was wrong with his lips? He knew what he wanted to say, but it was coming out wrong. He frowned. Or tried. The muscles in his face weren’t working either.
Whatever. He didn’t even care. He just wanted her.
“Let’s get you up,” she said.
She pushed up on his shoulders, all but dragged him to his feet, then slid her arm around his waist again, wrapping his around her shoulder like before. Only this time, heat exploded everywhere they touched, drawing him to her like a magnet, making him want to curl around her, slide inside her, lose himself in every inch of her sweetly scented skin.
Gravel turned to wood beneath his feet. And through the haze ahead he saw something moving. Something big.
“Step over,” Maelea said. “Careful.”
The ground rocked, adding confusion to his already messed-up head. She pushed against his chest. His back hit something hard. Water slapped a solid surface nearby.
“Stay here for a second.” She eased her hips against his, using her weight to hold him upright. Heat and electricity flared once more in his groin, tightening his dick where she pressed against him. The door directly to his left opened. Her scintillating voice drifted to his ears. “That was easier than I thought it would be.”
She pulled him into the darkened room before he could ask what she meant, closed the door at his back, and helped him down a set of steps. As the floor rocked again and he tried to make sense of their surroundings, he realized they had to be on a boat.
“Where…we?”
“Someplace no one will see us.” She pulled him forward. A click echoed in the dark, and a steady stream of light illuminated the small cabin. “This way.”
He had trouble seeing, especially the way his vision kept coming and going, but it looked like they passed a small galley off to his left, a U-shaped padded bench and table. Ahead was a door that had to lead to a bedroom, and relief flood
ed through him at the thought of dropping on a soft, supple mattress. But Maelea turned him before they reached it, and pushed open a different door.
She shined the light around the closet-size bathroom. After pushing him in, she pressed down on his shoulder. He dropped onto the closed toilet lid. “Wait right here. And don’t fall over.”
He didn’t have much of a choice. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. Gods, he could fall asleep right here, if it weren’t for that damn rocking. And the ruckus from the other room.
Drawers rattled. Shuffling echoed. When footsteps sounded close, he opened his eyes to a watery image of Maelea holding what looked like a handful of first-aid supplies.
She set the flashlight on the small sink ledge so light shone straight up, rippled off the ceiling, and illuminated the small space. Then she flipped on the water and ran a hand towel under the flow. “You’re not going to get sick, are you?”
Sick? No way. Seeing her kneeling in front of him like that, looking up with those wide eyes and that made-for-sin mouth, blood flowed straight into his cock, making him hard as hell all over again.
She squeezed water from the towel, turned toward him, and leaned close. “This might be cold. I’m not trying to hurt you.”
Her stomach brushed his erection as she splayed the cool rag across his abdomen. But it did nothing to cool him down. He closed his eyes, groaned at the wicked sensations running through his body. Fuck, if she touched his dick the way she was touching his chest, he’d let her do whatever she wanted. He wouldn’t stop her, wouldn’t even try.
“Sorry,” she said in a pained voice. “I just need to get the blood off to see how it’s… Oh.”
His eyes fluttered open. She was staring at his stomach. And oh, hell, her breasts hovered right over his cock, close enough to touch. As she wiped his skin, each brush of her fingers sent shards of desire swelling in his groin.
“This is nearly healed,” she said in surprise.
Like he cared about the wounds right now. Like he cared about anything but her skin on his, her mouth, her tongue…any part of her body she wanted to rub against his. He shifted his legs wider to make more room for her. Wished like hell she’d stop talking and fucking touch him again. “Heal fast.”
The words came out slurred, but when she lifted her gaze to his, she either didn’t notice or didn’t care. “I see that. I’m glad. I was afraid…” Emotion passed over her face, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Couldn’t make much sense of anything but his own burning need. Then she shook her head, looked back down at his stomach, and resumed wiping away the blood. “How do you feel?”
“Hot.” He eyed her breasts. Noticed for the first time that her T-shirt was covered in dried blood and that streaks of something green marred the skin of her hands. “And dirty.”
So dirty. Oh, man. Suddenly all he could think about was getting nasty dirty with her, right here on the bathroom floor.
“I brought extra clothes.” She left the washrag on his stomach, pushed to her feet, and was gone before he could stop her. Disappointment flowed, but she returned seconds later. And as she stood in the dim light of the doorway, he realized she was holding a backpack. The backpack he’d picked up at that army surplus store.
She opened the flap, pulled out new clothes for both of them, set them on the counter. Then she knelt in front of him all over again and reached for the button of his pants. “Here, let me help you get these off.”
Holy…hell. She wanted to take off his pants. Something way in the back of his mind warned he should stop her, but he was too far gone to care. All he could think about was her touch. About how it would feel. About where it would lead.
Please let it lead somewhere.
His dick throbbed in anticipation. She freed the button. He lifted his hips as she tugged to pull off the stained cotton. Didn’t even try to stop his boxers from sliding right down with the pants. When she realized she’d stripped him completely naked, her eyes grew wide and a small gasp escaped her lips.
Her hands froze. But he was suddenly wide awake, even with a spinning head. He toed off his boots, pushed his pants the rest of the way down his legs, and kicked them off. And when she only continued to stare, his erection swelled, growing harder and hotter under her watchful eyes.
He sat up. His cock bobbed against his belly as he reached for her shirt and tugged it up and over her head. She didn’t stop him, seemed to be in shock, and he was glad, because he wasn’t sure he could call things quits right now, even if she wanted him to.
He groaned when her naked breasts came into view. No bra. Nothing but heavenly, perfect skin. Her nipples hardened as he took her in. Her stomach tightened in the dim light. He flipped on the water in the sink at his side, ran the washcloth under the stream, then brought it dripping back to her chest.
She drew in another gasp as he ran it all over her breasts, down her belly, then back up again, washing away every last bit of that battle. He cupped her left breast with his free hand, ran his wet thumb over her nipple, pinched it gently, and watched it harden into a tight little nub.
“Gryphon,” she whispered.
In his foggy head he couldn’t tell if the word was a warning or a plea. But he felt the shiver that ran down her spine. And the way it pushed her a fraction of an inch closer.
He took that as his cue. Dropped the washrag on the floor. Slid his wet hand around the nape of her neck and pulled her tight to him as he closed his mouth over hers.
She opened without hesitation, pressed her hands against his bare chest, moaned as his tongue slid into her mouth and he tasted her all over again. Heat and life pulsed through his veins as his erection pressed against her bare belly. As her arms slid around his neck and her breasts brushed his chest. As she tangled her tongue with his and kissed him back with all the urgency and hunger he was showering on her.
Ah, gods. This was what he wanted. More of her heat. More of her skin. More of this feeling in the center of his chest, telling him he was alive. But she wasn’t close enough. He needed to get inside her. Needed to feel her. It was all he could think about. All he could focus on. He tried to drag her up onto his lap, but her knee knocked into the counter and she pulled back from his mouth, cringing at the pain.
He surged to his feet, lifted her around the waist before she could find her footing. The room spun but he ignored it. Couldn’t see anything but her. “Wrap your legs around me.”
She gasped as his hands slid down to cup her ass. He closed his mouth over hers again, stumbled through the door. She kissed him back. Harder. With more insistence. Her tongue slid along his, and the silky, sultry feel of her mouth made his balls tighten to near painful levels.
He pressed against her mound, only to groan when another shudder rushed through her body. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted more. Wanted all of her. He made it as far as the table before he lost his footing.
She landed on her ass on the hard surface with a grunt. Her arms came around his shoulders to keep him from falling on top of her. “Gryphon. Are you okay?”
Okay? Okay? The room spun again. But the throbbing ache between his legs was all he could think about. The ache only she had the power to ease.
He leaned down, brushed his mouth over hers. Couldn’t wait any longer. He needed her. More than he’d ever needed anyone before.
He reached for her hand and brought it to his cock. Then shuddered as her fingers brushed his shaft. “Not okay. Not even close. Just touch me, dammit. Touch me like I’ve been wanting you to for months.”
***
Maelea’s heart raced beneath her breast. She knew she shouldn’t. She knew this wasn’t the time or place, that they were trespassing on a private dock, on someone’s boat, in the middle of the night, and could be caught at any moment. She also knew that Gryphon likely wasn’t even aware of what he w
as doing, thanks to that concoction her mother had given her. Not to mention there could be daemons out there searching for their trail. But…
She didn’t want to stop. The ache between her legs was too strong. The pull toward him too great. And the fact that he’d said he’d been dreaming about her for months and wishing for her touch was the tipping point that sent her right over the edge.
She brushed her fingers over his cock again, reveled in the way he groaned. He was hard and hot, smooth skin over a rock-solid center, and bigger than she expected. Oh, she wasn’t a virgin, not by a long shot, but it had been quite a while for her. She’d pretty much given up on sex when she’d given up on the notion of falling in love. What was the point, after all? But right now, she didn’t care about a future or about what would happen next. All she cared about was touching him. About the fact none of the human men she’d been with over the years came close to having the power and strength pulsing in the palm of her hand right this very second.
Her thighs ached. She tightened her muscles to ease the throb. It didn’t work. If anything, it made her need greater. Wrapping her hand around his length, she slowly slid her fingers up to the tip, squeezed the head, used her thumb to brush a bead of fluid over his tip. He moaned, pressed into her hand. She answered by sliding her fingers down, stroking him from tip to base.
“Sotiria. Gods, that feels so good.” His hand slid into her hair, his fingers playing with her long locks as he eased even closer, drawing her toward him.
She knew what he wanted. The same thing she suddenly wanted. She moved her hand up his length again, licked her lips, leaned close. And as she lifted her gaze to his, she flicked her tongue over the tip and watched in awe as his eyes rolled back in his head.