His Fire Maiden (6 page)

“Get. Off. Me,” she ordered again.

“You’re not in a position to give me orders.” He studied her carefully.

“You’re in the middle of deep space on my ship. You’re not really in a position to not take my orders,” she answered.

The battle of wills between them was palpable, and she wasn’t sure who would come out the victor.

D
ev pushed to his feet
, letting go of the woman he held prisoner against the floor. He’d trapped her on instinct, only seeing who she was once he had her pinned beneath him. Violette.

Beautiful Violette.

The impression of her tone flesh stung his hands and legs, arousing the deep passions he’d worked so hard to suppress. He never thought he’d touch her, not like this. His skin tingled until it ached. In the darkest hours, he’d imagined this woman, convincing himself that the only time he would see her was in battle should she try to harm Josselyn.

The rush of his nocturnal fantasies filled him, and he wished with all his might that this was a dream. If it were, she’d kiss him soon, and they would have angry, hard, sweaty sex right there on the floor. His cock ached at the very notion. All it would take was one gesture on her part to show she was willing, and he’d have her naked and impaled before she could blink.

Her voice matched her eyes—filled with passion and determination. He craved to hear her whisper his name with those sweet lips. If he’d been hopeless before, he was completely captured by her spell now. There was no explaining it. She pulled him to her like a magnet. It took everything in him to resist.

As he stood, he wanted to stretch his cramped muscles. The cargo container had not been the most comfortable of cages, but he’d been locked inside worse. While confined in the dark, the old fear had threatened him. His type wasn’t exactly safe from religious zealots, and their way of ridding the world of his kind of “evil” usually involved a rather painful and public execution.

Seeing Violette calmed that panic. This foe he could handle. She was one woman…one very exquisite, delicate, starbeam of a woman.

Blast it all!

Maybe he couldn’t handle her.

Oh, please let her kiss him. It wasn’t in him to take an unwilling woman but a single sign, that’s all his body needed.

Suddenly, she began to chuckle as she pushed herself up from the floor. He wasn’t expecting the sound, and it took him off guard. Dev wasn’t sure if he should be offended, so he held perfectly still. Her laughter grew. When he could take it no longer, he asked, “What?”

“I was just thinking,” she said, calming herself, “no one would ever mistake a great beast of a man like you for a little semikin.”

Dev didn’t share in her humor. He saw the irony, but couldn’t force himself to smile. At his lack of participation, she sobered. He was sorry to see the merriment fade from her eyes but did nothing to bring it back.

Already he calculated a way to overtake the vessel. Seeing the captain, he could well deduce he was on
Racing Banana
. The ship was small. He could man it solo until he was rescued. Now, all he would have to do is determine if the layout matched what he’d studied in the VR, subdue the crew, and fly himself to a safe port if
The Conqueror
wasn’t close enough to answer his distress call. It should be simple enough.

“I see we are beyond pretending my being brought here was an accident,” he stated. Her lack of answer was answer aplenty. “I thought as much. What’s the plan? Ransom? Trade? Torture for information?” He arched a brow. “Slavery?”

“All valid reasons to have someone taken,” she agreed. “But I didn’t order you—”

The door slid open behind her, drawing their attention around to the front of the cargo hold.

Dev’s eyes narrowed, and he tensed. An Angelion? His hands balled instantly into fists. His father’s people were at war with the treacherous race.

“Gil, do—” Violette began.

Gil stopped, his wings spreading slightly in shock as he stared at Dev. He held an injector in his hand. It was filled with yellow liquid. This was the man who’d been trying to keep him sedated.

“What did you do?” Gil yelled at Violette. “Quick, get down!”

The injector dropped from Gil’s hand as he reached for his waist to grab his gun. Without waiting to assess the full situation, he lifted the weapon and fired. Violette jolted in surprise. Dev didn’t hesitate. He grabbed her by the arm and dove out of the way, taking her with him behind a large crate. She struggled against his hold, but he pressed her firmly to the ground to keep her safe.

“Captain?” Gil yelled. Violette moaned an answer.

Dev jumped up to face Gil. He grabbed a high crate and leaped, pulling his weight up to get a better vantage point. As he landed, he saw Gil hovering above the ground. The Angelion swung his arm up. Dev lunged at his target. He slammed into the flying brute, drawing an arm around his neck.

“Stop,” Violette yelled below them. Dev wasn’t sure which one of them she meant to command.

Gil fired off a shot. It went wild in their struggle, the blast ricocheting off a metal container. Dev swore, thinking of the woman below them. The Angelion was careless. He squeezed the trigger a couple more times. Violette’s short cry sounded more annoyed than hurt.

“I said stop! That’s an order,” she yelled. The men didn’t listen. Dev couldn’t back down. Gil wouldn’t. The war between the Angelion and Bevlon had been raging for a millennium, possibly longer. In truth, neither side could remember how or when it started. Though both races were small in number because of it, none of them stopped the fighting. Dev didn’t feel the hatred like his father’s people did. The way he saw it, his father’s kind didn’t care much for him because of his human mother. They used to call him a halfling, a changeling, tainted, half-breed, rotted, spawn… They didn’t want to accept him and, well, in return, he wouldn’t care about their stupid blood feuds. Evidently Gil didn’t get that memo.

“Obey your captain.” Dev didn’t want to hurt the man, but he would.

Gil’s wings flapped, slamming Dev against a wall before lowering him against the sharp edge of a crate. Dev growled as the pain racked over his already sore muscles. Angrily, he reached for the base of a large wing and pulled hard. He heard a loud snap as he broke the appendage. Gil cried out. Dev let go of him as they both plummeted to the hard floor.

He listened for the gun hitting the ground, intent to dive after it. Metal slid against the grated floor. When he landed, he rolled toward the sound. As he came full circle, his forehead pressed into the pointed barrel of a laser.

“That’s enough,” Violette said, her tone stern. “This is my ship, and I will have order.”

“I’ll kill you,” Gil yelled. “My wing, you demon spawn, you broke my blasted wing!”

“Stow it,” Violette ordered. “Or I’ll break the other one.”

Dev didn’t move as he looked up at her. The barrel slid to the bridge of his nose, pressing hard. The captain held a gun on Gil as well. Her hand was steady, lethal. The weapon was an extension of her, and he had no doubt she could use it if called upon.

Violette’s eyes turned toward him. “I warned you what would happen if you misbehaved. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t eject you from this ship into the black?”

“He attacked me,” Dev stated simply. “By the injector he was carrying, I’d say you found your insubordinate.”

Violette’s hand dropped as she stepped back. He was sure the weapon would rise at a moment’s notice. “You have no fear of death, do you? I can see it in your eyes.”

“Captain,” Gil said. “My wing. He broke my wing.”

Violette made her way to the discarded injector on the floor. “You should have considered such outcomes before you brought him on the ship.”

“I told you the Bevlon was mine. You didn’t protest,” Gil held tight to his wing as if he was too frightened to move the appendage.

“And that is why I didn’t shoot either one of you just now.” Violette eyed the injector. “Is this lethal or sedative?”

“How could you ask that? What fun would it be to kill a Bevlon in a box?” Gil spat, glaring at Dev.

“By the looks of your broken wing, Angelion, it would have been the wisest decision,” Dev answered, just as angrily.

“How dare—” Gil began, trying to surge to his feet.

Violette grabbed him roughly by the arm and plunged the injector into his flesh. He blinked, dazed before passing out onto the floor.

“I could have handled him,” Dev protested at her interference.

“This is my ship, and he is my crewman. You’ll not be handling anyone.” Violette made a move to adjust Gil’s wing. She examined the wound. There wasn’t a lot of blood, but the support shaft was in two pieces. “This will have to heal naturally. Medical units don’t repair broken wings.”

“I am aware,” Dev answered. He didn’t move. His eyes followed the stroking of her hand, oddly aroused by the delicate actions of her fingers, yet jealous of the way she touched the other man. He studied her hands, her wrist, the subtle shift of muscles in her forearm, mesmerized by the movement. For a moment, he let his guard down. A rush of sensations overwhelmed him, and he quickly hardened himself.

Violette struggled to lift Gil but didn’t ask for his help. She managed well enough under the dead weight of her burden. Dev sighed, leaned forward to edge her out of the way as he pulled the Angelion onto his shoulder. Violette looked surprised, but she didn’t speak as she motioned him to follow her from the cargo hold.

V
iolette ordered
Gil sedated for much longer than was medically necessary. Regardless, Isaac followed her command without question. She had a feeling Isaac would enjoy nursing the unconscious man. Nothing inappropriate would happen, but for Isaac, it would be a fantasy come true to have Gil under his care.

With his wing broken and on a very long natural mend, the Angelion would be in a black hole of a mood. But that wasn’t why she didn’t want Gil awake. The last thing she needed was the age-old battle between Angelion and Bevlon being played out on her watch. She’d seen the look on their faces. Neither would back down from a fight, and she feared they’d take her ship out in the process.

“There is only room for one fight on this ship, and that is mine,” she swore under her breath, thinking of her father and Josselyn. Though she was a woman always up for adventure, this wasn’t exactly the kind of experience she felt like dealing with. Lifting her hand to the door scanner, she opened her quarters and stepped in. Dev stood pretty much where she’d left him, in the middle of the room, black eyes stormy and expression stoic. He filled up the space, intimidatingly so. A small thrill worked over her, filled with a very feminine awareness.

That was something she didn’t want to deal with either.

“Gil is being managed,” she stated, drawing her mind back to the business at hand. “I contacted Quazer ground, but your friends only spent that one night in the Glamour District before they left the next day. A computer error corrupted their registered travel log.”

The side of Dev’s mouth twitched up a small degree.

“I suspected that wasn’t an error,” Violette said in response to the look. “Without it, we have no way of tracking your ship. Unless you know where it’s going?”

Dev’s expression blanked. “It’s hard to say.”

Violette nodded. “There are a couple of fueling docks in this part of the X quadrant, but not much else. Unless you insist, I wouldn’t recommend you staying behind at any of them. Travel options off the docks are limited, and the accommodations are lacking in everything but space pests.”

“What are you offering as an alternative?” The deep, rich tone of his voice gave nothing away.

“I didn’t order you brought here, but I am responsible for what happens on this vessel. We’ll try to find your ship for you and arrange a meeting—”

“So I can lead you to them?” he inserted.

“Or we can leave you on a planet of your choosing as we fly past. I don’t need your help tracking Josselyn. I’ll find her.”

He stayed quiet.

“Our next stop is to meet up with an HIA ship for a liaison with the Federation.” Actually, it was only an offer to join some unit heads in a toast to her father. She didn’t have to be there.

Dev didn’t move.

“HIA. Human Intelligence Agency,” Violette explained.

Dev’s brow lifted. She couldn’t tell if he was insulted or amused.

“Of course, you know what it is,” she said under her breath. “I have no intention of turning you over as a space pirate. However, if you feel it is too much of a risk to—”

“Who said I was a pirate?” He took a step toward her. The small space felt nearly claustrophobic with him so near. It required sheer will to stand her ground against his menacing figure.

“Your docking reports gave it away.” She wished her voice sounded stronger.

“Perhaps we just like our privacy. Perhaps we were worried that someone in a yellow ship would come looking for one of our crewmen. Perhaps this is all an elaborate game set up by you and your crew to either lull me or scare me into some kind of confession. I wouldn’t tell you how to find my ship if I even knew where it was. I won’t help you find your sister. If Josselyn wishes to seek you out that is her business.”

Her eyes inadvertently went to his mouth. She liked the way his lips moved. They were firm, the texture of them begging to be touched. “That is not what I was doing.”

“Then perhaps your agenda is political, or religious, or mercenary? You seek to gain my compliance by speaking to me in your soft, feminine way, batting your bewitching eyes and smiling your little seductive smiles. You saw what I was when we landed at Rifflen, and you think to sell me to the highest bidder. You would not be the first to try.”

“I do not traffic in…” Her words trailed off. Did he call her bewitching and seductive? “You think I look feminine?”

At that, his guard slipped. Black eyes traveled down her body and back up again. The dark gaze lingered on her hips and breasts a little too long. She felt the tingling warmth of desire erupt between her thighs. The sensation curled around her, flooding her body with the kind of desperate hormonal reaction that would be hard to fight.

“You know the effect you have on men,” he stated. It wasn’t a question.

“Are you saying I have an effect on you?” She swayed toward him. Her legs shook. This wasn’t supposed to be happening.

“Are you trying to get me to confess attraction?” he countered.

Was she? Violette didn’t know how to answer that. Well, if she were honest with herself, the truth was she didn’t want to think about the answer. “Are you confessing attraction?”

“Are you inviting attraction?”

“Perhaps I should…” Violette glanced at the door. She had to get control of her emotions. “This is my room. If you like, you can stay in here—”

A low growl sounded as he shot forward. Before she could even end her sentence, she was pressed back against the hard metal of her wall by a solid block of pure, hot, male muscle. She moaned. She’d been about to offer the room as his temporary quarters while she bunked elsewhere, but Dev took it more as an invitation to her person. How could she blame him? She had been flirting.

Flirting? Space captains didn’t flirt. That couldn’t have been what she was doing.

Oh, but then why was she kissing him back? Sliding her tongue into his hot, wet mouth, she let him suck it between his teeth.
Sacre
, but it felt nice the way he flicked his tongue against hers. Heat radiated from his body, warmer than other humanoids. His body hovered close to her, not touching save for their lips. His hands pressed against the metal wall, trapping her before him. There seemed a great fire burning beneath his surface.

Her fingers lifted to his forearms. The fine red lines that decorated his flesh appeared to darken as his kiss deepened. She kept her eyes open, even as they wanted to drift closed. He was staring at her, probing her with his piercing gaze.

She’d wanted him since first seeing him standing on the docking plank to his ship. All the emotions she worked so hard to suppress surged forth—grief, anger, passion, need, they all poured over into him. Their touch became a losing battle for control.

The muscles beneath her fingers flexed as he pulled his mouth from hers. She gripped his arms, not wanting him to stop. Violette opened her mouth to speak, but only a loud gasp escaped her as she drew in a long breath. One of his hands lifted to the front of her tight black shirt. With a jerk, he pulled the neckline and tore the material from her breasts. Her breathing became raspy and her head light.

Heat enveloped her. Violette pressed into the wall. Dev’s mouth found her neck as his hand found an aching breast. Her nipple practically exploded against this palm when he touched her. How long had it been since she’d felt the intimacy of a man’s flesh? At the moment, she couldn’t remember.

There was something to his stoic nature that called to her, a sadness buried deep inside of him, but also a repressed passion that smoldered beneath the surface. If his body heat were any indication, it would do more than simmer once unleashed. She wanted to feed into that passion until his blood boiled like hers. None of this made sense, and yet, here she was, kissing Dev and forgetting about everything rational in her life.

Oh, to feel something beyond sadness and duty. To not have to think.

Her hands moved to his clothing, intent on undressing him. She could feel he was shaped like most humanoid males, yet she wanted to explore the look of him. Bevlons were a rare breed, and this was the first she’d come across in all her travels. She had heard plenty from Gil’s incredibly biased accounts, enough so that she’d been curious to read up on her own. She knew his kind kept to themselves, typically residing on some hot frying pan of a planet.

His body seemed cut from a pliable metal. Solid muscles attested to a life spent in exercise. It was evident by the way he fought Gil that he was trained in combat. There had been a fearlessness in him that captivated her and a borderline recklessness that stirred her curiosity.

Material peeled from flesh until nothing separated them. He didn’t speak, so neither did she. Violette worried that the spell between them might break should they utter a word. Something inside her shook free, like a laser missile bursting out of its shell toward another starship, making contact, exploding, destroying itself and its target in the same stellar process. It was hot and dangerous and in many ways stupid, but she couldn’t keep away from the flame of that gloriously bright moment. She locked her sights on him, fully aware that the decision she was making was a bad one that could destroy them both, if not physically at least metaphorically. Her crew would never forgive her, especially Gil. They would feel betrayed. They might not even respect her. This man was part of the ship that protected her sworn enemy, even if that enemy was her sister. Not to mention, she could dress up the facts all she liked, but he was technically a prisoner of her ship. Captain and prisoner. On opposites sides of her sworn sense of vengeance. Enemies by every logical rationing of the situation.

But Violette couldn’t stop kissing him. He was heat and passion and insanity. He tasted like dark liquor, and his touch was just as intoxicating.

Dev’s hands massaged her breasts. She moaned weakly at the sensations flooding her. Thumbs tweaked her nipples into tight buds. Tiny shockwaves found their way down to her pussy. He moaned in the back of his throat. Lips slid from hers as he worked his way over her jaw to her earlobe. He nipped at her ear. Her hands ran through his dark hair, pulling him closer. She angled her throat in offering. He took the invitation, sliding his mouth down her neck. Teeth skimmed her flesh. She tensed, thinking he might bite her. Instead, he drew his tongue in a delicately teasing trail to her shoulder.

Dev’s fiery skin and fierce demeanor belied his gentle touch. She wouldn’t have guessed he’d be such a tender yet forceful lover. His hands seemed to be all over her body, moving and gliding, caressing and touching every inch of her flesh. He brought his kiss lower, along her collarbone to the valley between her breasts.

Violette stroked his arms and shoulders. Her fingers found hold in his thick hair. Ah,
sacre
, but his kisses felt wonderful.

She rocked her hips toward him as he moved lower. The hard metal at her back gave her leverage as she pushed her hips forward and spread her legs. He licked her navel before dipping his head between her thighs. Violette gasped. His hot tongue probed the softness of her sex, parting the lips to find the sensitive bud of her clit buried between them.

Violette cried out, unable to hold back. His kissed deepened at her response. He tested her reactions, quickly adapting the movements of his mouth to give her ultimate gratification. Her skin was flushed and her breathing became hard. She slammed her fist against the wall as the pleasure built. A loud, satisfying bang resounded over them so she did it again.

Dev jerked his head back, looking up at her. Those dark eyes seemed filled with the promise of sin, though perhaps it was only her imagination, or the look of his red skin, the stark depths of his eyes.

Violette grabbed a fistful of his thick hair and roughly pulled him to standing. His hands hit on either side of her body to trap her. He breathed hard, each harsh sound puncturing the silence. She still held his locks, pulling at the roots. A low growl sounded in the back of his throat. Her lips parted, and he licked between them, flicking his tongue to dance teasingly along the edges. His hand slid into her hair as he used the locks to jerk her away from the wall. She instantly let go of his hair as he walked her backward to her bed.

Her legs hit the low mattress. Thinking he’d let go, she swept her leg into his in a maneuver to get him on his back. He didn’t release her hair, and she ended up falling on top of him. The loud smack of their flesh slapping together sent a tingle over her body. She had never felt so alive in her life. His heat, his taste, his smell, all her senses were overwhelmed.

She began to move over him, straddling his waist. The firm press of his cock slid against her ass. She hadn’t looked as they stripped from their clothing. The length of it didn’t surprise her. He was such a large man. It made sense that all of him would be in proportion to that fact.

Tiny dark red lines ran haphazard patterns over his entire length, like a tattoo inked in blood. The design was natural, beautiful, mesmerizing. She traced her fingers along the lines. Her actions caused him to tense. He looked down at her hands.

Violette could see the threat of the rational dawning in his eyes. She covered his mouth with her hand before he could speak and quickly maneuvered her body over his. The first intimate contact of his shaft probing into her depths caused her to gasp. She trembled as she forced herself lower. He didn’t move, didn’t stop her. She lifted and then slowly sat back down. It didn’t take long before a natural rhythm struck up between them.

Dev began to thrust his hips, pressing up as she came down. Their actions became almost angry, like a fight both of them could win. His hands slid onto her hips, guiding her over him. She loved the mindlessness of the moment. Pleasure didn’t have to make sense, it just was. Before long the tremors of climax were washing over her. She dug her fingernails into his chest. Heat exploded inside her as he came. The eruption was everything she expected it might be—mindless bliss with an aftermath of consequences.

As she pulled off of him, she shivered at the sudden rush of cold air that hit her body. He’d been so warm, and the room’s temperature seemed to drop without his touch. She backed away from him. Violette was too practical to ponder senseless things like “What have I done?” and “What was I thinking?”. She’d known exactly what she was doing. And now, she was going to have to figure out the best way to minimize the ramifications.