No Limits (18 page)
The boy shook his head. “Stop it.”
You’re losing him!
Marshal made a desperate grasp for control, ready to drain the boy dry of all feeling, but Rhys shoved him back, snarling, “I can handle this!”
Marshal made a desperate grasp for control, ready to drain the boy dry of all feeling, but Rhys shoved him back, snarling, “I can handle this!”
The child fought Rhys’s onslaught, his will stronger than anything Rhys had ever experienced. Holding on to the threads he needed was akin to gripping oiled snakes. “You’re trying to trick me!”
Rhys dove at the same moment the boy pulled the trigger.
18
M
arshal intercepted the laser blast aimed for Gen’s chest at point-blank range. He barreled into the young marksman and knocked him off his feet before crumpling to the ground. The kid’s eyes were wide as his laser pistol clattered to the deck. Gen’s heart skipped a beat. Smoke emanated from Marshal’s body, the smell of burned meat and singed hair making her gag. Still, she kept the presence of mind to command, “Put your hands up, now.”
arshal intercepted the laser blast aimed for Gen’s chest at point-blank range. He barreled into the young marksman and knocked him off his feet before crumpling to the ground. The kid’s eyes were wide as his laser pistol clattered to the deck. Gen’s heart skipped a beat. Smoke emanated from Marshal’s body, the smell of burned meat and singed hair making her gag. Still, she kept the presence of mind to command, “Put your hands up, now.”
The kid’s panicked brown eyes fixed on her, as shaking limbs extended at a perpendicular angle to his body. “I didn’t mean to—”
Gen took a roll of gauze from one of the supply cabinets and stuffed it into his mouth.
“Don’t play with weapons if you don’t mean to hurt people,” she snapped, and wrapped another roll around his head to keep the gag in place. Methodically, she tied his hands behind his back and bound his feet at the ankles for good measure. The entire universe had slowed to one heartbeat at a time. Dread filled her when she imagined turning Marshal over, seeing the damage the weapon had inflicted.
Rhys.
The sorrow she didn’t actively express threatened to overflow the part of her mind not aimed toward survival. She needed to stay numb, to be cool and levelheaded, but reason became murkier, harder to hold.
Why did you do that?
The sorrow she didn’t actively express threatened to overflow the part of her mind not aimed toward survival. She needed to stay numb, to be cool and levelheaded, but reason became murkier, harder to hold.
Why did you do that?
The question was pointless, totally irrelevant. She knew why he’d thrown himself in front of her, shielding her with his own body. That’s what heroes did in real life.
Die.
Look at him!
The shrill voice came from somewhere deep inside her, and even as Gen shook her head, she reached forward to touch his bare shoulder.
The shrill voice came from somewhere deep inside her, and even as Gen shook her head, she reached forward to touch his bare shoulder.
Biting the inside of her cheek, she turned him to face her. Marshal’s dark eyes stared sightlessly up at her. A sob broke out of her thin-skinned emotional prison, followed by another when she took in the gaping hole burned into his chest cavity. White ribs were clearly visible, the ends charred black by the heat of the laser. The thick metallic tang of blood caught in the back of her throat.
No one deserved to die like this.
Grief slammed into her like a ship caught in a planet’s gravity, sucking her down to the dense core of madness. Two lives gone, two men dead with the twitch of a nervous trigger finger. “Why didn’t I stun the kid when I had a clear shot?”
Because you are not a killer, Gen.
Her mouth went dry as hope welled. “Rhys?”
I’m here, sweetness, inside you.
She shuddered in relief, scarcely able to believe that he was still with her. “Are you all right?”
A long pause, long enough that she started to panic on his behalf. God, what if he was dying on her?
I am
...
undamaged. But I cost a man his life, Gen.
Rage coursed through her, a helpless gut-churning fury with no outlet. She sensed him struggling to suppress it, locking it back in those hidden depths deep within his psyche. His admission was filled with utter despair.
I don’t know what I’m doing. With Marshal, with you
...
it’s all been a horrific mistake.
...
undamaged. But I cost a man his life, Gen.
Rage coursed through her, a helpless gut-churning fury with no outlet. She sensed him struggling to suppress it, locking it back in those hidden depths deep within his psyche. His admission was filled with utter despair.
I don’t know what I’m doing. With Marshal, with you
...
it’s all been a horrific mistake.
She flinched at the last. His spiritual foundation had been badly shaken. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, not knowing what else she could say to him. “But I’m glad you’re alive.”
He didn’t respond. Leaning forward, she passed her hand over Marshal’s eyes. “We had fun, didn’t we, you evil bastard.”
Marshal let me do it. He wanted to save your life. If he’d truly fought me, I wouldn’t have been able to.
...
...
Eyes misting over, she finished the thought for him. “To save me. Thank you, Rhys.”
She glanced down at the kid, whose eyes almost bugged out of their sockets as he watched her have a conversation with herself. “What do we do now?”
With Marshal dead, Zan has no reason to hold you here,
Rhys thought in a sullen tone. Some part of him had died inside Marshal, his light noticeably diminished.
Rhys thought in a sullen tone. Some part of him had died inside Marshal, his light noticeably diminished.
“Can I do anything for you?”
No, sweetness. I need to pray for Marshal’s empathic light. Meditate for a few hours.
So much for their great escape plan. She couldn’t help but feel abandoned, shoved aside when she became inconvenient to him. Why did he have to shut down on her? She’d gladly help him through whatever crisis of faith he was coping with. In that moment, she accepted that watching out for Marshal had been an excuse that allowed her to follow her heart after Rhys on his madcap mission. And look where it had brought her.
Gen sighed. She was truly on her own now.
“What’s going on here?” Zan had the standard villain timing down pat. She said nothing, well aware that Rhys couldn’t do anything more to help her and that her leverage was sprawled dead on the floor. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on taking deep, calming breaths.
The creak of leather marked Zan’s progress into the room. His hand brushed over hers sensually, taking the weapon from her grip. She didn’t fight him. Even if she killed him, she held no hope of getting away. Marshal might have shot himself out into the cold embrace of the universe, but Gen didn’t want to live that badly.
“And your man?”
She cracked an eyelid and found Zan squatting down to examine the corpse. His big, leather-clad thighs bulged with well-developed muscle. Funny the things she noticed at a time like this.
A tear streaked down her cheek. “He’s just a friend.” She spoke the words clearly, giving Rhys plenty of time to challenge her statement, afraid he would but more afraid he wouldn’t.
The corner of Zan’s mouth kicked up. “I meant, what happened to him?”
She couldn’t stare him in the eye and lie, say that Rhys was no more, so she turned her head away, letting all the loss she felt show in the slump of her shoulders. Let the pirate make of that what he would.
He moved toward her then, offering her a bow. “My apologies. I would have liked to meet him in the flesh. Come to the mess hall and have a drink, soothe the jagged edges. Little indulgences help to quell the grief.”
She didn’t protest as he led her from the medical chamber, afraid to give herself away with the slightest inappropriate reaction.
Rhys stayed quiet, meditating probably. She wanted time to talk to him, to plan out a strategy of what else they could do, but whatever he was going through seemed to demand all his attention. He’d abandoned her to her own devices.
She wished she could stop allowing him this power over her. As her bare feet padded woodenly across cold metal grating, Gen came to an understanding.
No one else had her back. Though Rhys might have cared if she died, it meant no more to him than the fall of his enemy. His stringent system of beliefs dictated that he hold all life sacred, regardless of personal connection. She didn’t know whether to laugh at her own absurdity—because she had thought she meant something to him—or cry because she was so damn desperate for someone to give a shit.
Zan steered her into a small, poorly lit room. The large viewports boasted a magnificent view of the stars, and Gen wanted nothing more than to stare out into the endless reaches of space until she crumbled into dust.
“Here.” Zan handed her a cup made out of some transparent material she’d never seen before, more sturdy than glass, colder than metal. The liquid inside was an amber color and twinkled like the stars as it settled. “Really, it ain’t poison. If I wanted you dead, I’d use my hands.”
“Good to know.” She stared into it, mesmerized by the play of light, like liquid fire. Tipping the cup back, she let the beverage slide down her throat. Her tongue didn’t pick up any sort of taste at all, like water from a fresh stream. The concoction warmed as it went, burning her esophagus raw. The heat spread through her chest, lighting her up from the inside out. She coughed heartily and then wheezed, “Damn, that’s got a hell of a kick. What’s it called?”
He refilled her empty cup. “Risgalie. It’s brewed on my home world and exported across the cosmos by freighter pilots who will then barter it for other ... favors.” His gaze went unfocused.
Gen drained her cup again. “I know that look. Who is she?”
Zan scowled. “I don’t follow.”
“The woman you’re pining for. What’s her name?” Though her thoughts had grown fuzzy, she still recalled the time with Javier and Steven. “Unless it’s a him?”
Zan stared down at her before knocking back his own drink. “No, you were right the first time.”
She changed her tactic, wanting to keep him talking so he wouldn’t ask her questions. “So, is she waiting patiently for you to come home, keeping the fires burning and all that warm-fuzzy shit?” A hiccup escaped.
Zan threw his head back and laughed. “No, not at all. She was not one for home and hearth, more of a shoot-first-and-let-God-sort-out-the-details type.”
Was. Oh, ouch.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dredge up painful memories.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to dredge up painful memories.”
Zan raised an eyebrow. “Loving her was the biggest mistake of my life.”
Gen laughed. “I hear you. Love is a sick-bitch mistress, never satisfied and always willing to take another strip off your hide.”
He seemed to like that, his eyes warming a fraction. “Takes one to know one, yeah?”
She scrunched up her face as she tried to determine if he’d just insulted her. “Whatever you say, Zan.”
“I like the sound of those words.” He took the glass from her hands, set it down on a nearby table. “You know, I think it’s about time I find a new sick-bitch mistress.”
His intent was obvious, but in her inebriated state, it took a moment for his meaning to register. “Where do you suppose you can find one out here on the edge of nothingness?”
His thumb stroked over her cheek, the point of her chin. “I’m a pirate, remember? I take what I want.”
She stared into his eyes. “I’m not her.”
Golden gaze burned hot, penetrating her, just like the booze. “And I ain’t him.”
Gen shrugged. “So, if you can’t be with the one you love—”
His mouth claimed hers, cutting off her droll quip.
Love the one you’re with.
Love the one you’re with.
Rhys said nothing.
Rhys wished he’d been the one to die. Forget his all-important mission, his people, his sister. He’d cost another soul his life. The price for his freedom was too high, and he doubted he deserved to exist outside the candle.
And he certainly didn’t deserve Gen.
She was attracted to the space pirate. And Zan wanted her, had wanted her from the moment he’d seen her. His lust was sharp, a splinter in Rhys’s mind. Here was a man who could give Gen everything Rhys couldn’t. Zan wouldn’t hesitate to kill another to defend her life. Rhys’s ideological belief that all life should be preserved had almost gotten her killed.
Just like he had killed Marshal. He was no one to judge what the other empath had done. Yet Rhys had acted as his judge, jury, and executioner. Gen deserved so much more; her bright colors needed to be matched with an intense personality, not Rhys’s slashes of rage and guilt. Always the guilt pressing on his shoulders, weighing him down.
He’d lied to her, practically kidnapped her, and coerced her until she helped him. Invaded her body in every way possible. He didn’t deserve the memories of her soft touch, the heat of her body, the scent of her lustrous hair. No, he had stolen those bits of her sweetness and would cherish them always.
He sensed her pause, trying to clear the alien alcoholic fog from her mind. She wanted him to object, to tell her not to enter the pirate’s lair. Not to share herself with him. Her hurt when he didn’t respond tore him up inside.
Allowing that he was a bastard ten times over for breaking his promise, Rhys found the pleasure center of her brain and pulled on her need. Manipulating her emotions once again. The light pink cravings flushed as he stoked her fire, letting it build slowly, naturally, as the best part of himself turned to ash.
Her time with Zan would be his punishment. Tonight he would silently endure the sensation of his woman’s body being loved by another. If a more potent kind of torture existed, he couldn’t think of it. Tomorrow he’d proceed with his mission and let go of Gen for her own good.
Rhys prayed he would be strong enough, but he worried his conviction was no match for his aching heart.
19
T
he doors to Zan’s cabin whizzed shut with a hiss, cementing the fact that they had been sealed in together. The noise cleared some of the alcohol-induced haze lingering in Gen’s mind, and she tensed in the dimly lit room. Zan hadn’t touched her since that deep kiss, and he kept his distance between their bodies. She wished he wouldn’t; she didn’t want the time or the space to think—to remember what she had been struggling so hard to forget.
he doors to Zan’s cabin whizzed shut with a hiss, cementing the fact that they had been sealed in together. The noise cleared some of the alcohol-induced haze lingering in Gen’s mind, and she tensed in the dimly lit room. Zan hadn’t touched her since that deep kiss, and he kept his distance between their bodies. She wished he wouldn’t; she didn’t want the time or the space to think—to remember what she had been struggling so hard to forget.
“Do something for me?” Zan murmured. The pulsing green light of his cabin cast him into a stripe of shadows, dark slashes masking the extent of his expression. She had planned to seduce this man? Gen could have laughed at her own idiocy. It was like a young virgin trying to entice a jaded whore. Yet Zan still seemed to want her.
He handed her another drink, and she debated a moment, wondering if more booze was the answer. Was there even a right answer? “What’s your pleasure?”
“I got something real special I want you to wear.” The corner of his mouth kicked up, and her eyebrows climbed practically to her hairline.
“What, some sort of sexy costume?” Maybe it came with boots. Heat pooled in her belly at the thought of being fucked in fuck-me boots. Wasn’t that why she continued to buy them, the constant hope that maybe someday a man she was with would say
, Leave ’em on, babe. They really do it for me.
, Leave ’em on, babe. They really do it for me.
He didn’t respond verbally, just moved over to a high alcove. There was a sharp click, and the bulkhead behind him slid away. Zan beckoned her to follow and stepped through the uneven passage.
“Whoa, Mama.” The lighting in the room matched its sparkling interior. Gold, silver, and jewels of all colors, shapes, and sizes ate up the enormous space. Gen spun around, trying to take it all in. “I thought pirates were supposed to bury their treasure.”
Zan threw back his head and laughed. She enjoyed the sound all the more because she doubted he did it often. “Where some poor slob could dig it up and win the jackpot? I need it on hand to spend whenever we reach quasi-civilized space. But not too civilized—they want no part of me, and I want less than that from them.”
She pivoted, somewhat drunkenly, trying to take it all in. “So you stole all this from luxury liners?”
Zan moved closer and tipped the drink to her lips. “Not all. Something like that is a special and rare circumstance. Too high-profile because now there will be an alert out for us, for this vessel. We need to avoid the Milky Way galaxy for a long time. So you see, I can’t exactly bring you home.”
Gen turned to him, narrowing her eyes. “Was it worth it, to see Marshal dead?”
He shrugged. “I took no pleasure in his death. Some people just need killing, especially if they’ve harmed me or mine. If I hadn’t hunted him down, my crew would mutiny, simple as that. Demonstrations of might and ruthlessness earned me my rank, and I ain’t willing to jeopardize that position for no one.”
His tone held warning as well as explanation. Gen shivered.
Zan reached out a hand and hesitated, letting his fingers drift an inch from her skin. “Have I scared you off? Am I too evil for you?”
Her heart thundered in her chest and her head swam. He smelled of dark spice, exotic and mysterious. “I’m starting to understand that what I once thought was evil is just the necessity of people trying to scrape by. I’m in an odd position here, Zan. Alone without the connections or resources to get home. If I say no, will you have me killed?”
Slowly, he shook his head. “Not for that.”
She could read between the lines. There were other reasons, other missteps she might make that would result in her death at his hands. Zan wasn’t offering her immunity or protection, just physical comfort, a few moments of bliss. Knocking back the rest of her drink, she closed the gap between them, leaning into his caress. Golden eyes lit with lust took her in, reflecting the stacks of wealth around them.
“What did you want me to wear?”
His thumb stroked over her cheekbone twice before he took her empty glass and set it on a golden table. Bending at the waist, he scooped up something and turned, offering the object to her. “This.”
She frowned. “A mask?” An exquisite mask to be sure, woven of fine golden threads and decorated with rubies and sapphires. It was designed to cover the top portion of the wearer’s face, from forehead to nose. “Is this so you can pretend I’m someone else?”
“No, Gen. I know exactly who I want to fuck.” Circling behind her, he slipped the mask over her face and then led her back to the other room. “The illusion is for you. Something to help you forget who you are, so you can enjoy.”
He was right, she realized as she touched her fingertips to the valuable covering. She felt like a different person behind the mask, someone bolder, braver, hotter, and demanding. Someone who had no trouble unfastening her dress and letting it pool around her ankles. Bare to his gaze, she stepped forward and trailed a long fingernail down the dark exposed skin revealed by his leather vest.
He gripped her hand as she touched his naval. “Rules first.”
Her hand tingled where he touched her, like his hand was a conduit for electrical current. Zan was ... intense, and hidden behind the mysterious mask she craved another hit.
Her body called the shots now, thrumming and throbbing with need; all her worries and concerns waited elsewhere. The freedom was heady and a little bit frightening. “I’m not really a whore, and I don’t expect payment. And I’m going to utilize my health guard, no matter what you say or do.”
He nodded. “Fair enough. Now, there are certain parts of my body I won’t permit to have touched in any way. Can you live with that?”
She licked her lips. “Just tell me where and I’ll avoid those spots like the space pox.”
Tilting his head to the side, he surveyed her hungrily. “My hair, my feet, and my ass, all off-limits.”
What a strange combination. She wanted to ask why but doubted he would tell her. “Agreed. Anything else?”
He pushed her back onto the mattress. Encouraging her to splay her thighs, he then gazed down on her body. “It’s been too damn long since I’ve had a woman.”
She spread her legs wider for him, reveling in the way his golden gaze fixed on her sex. “Should I give you a refresher course?”
Without waiting for an answer, she slid her hands up to cup her breasts, pinching the nipples until they stood at attention. His hot breaths tightened the bud of her clit and made her ache all the more. Slowly, she trailed her hand down over her stomach, creeping lightly over her mound to circle the throbbing nub.
His gaze transfixed, Zan shifted, shrugging out of his vest and pants, his eyes never leaving her body. She opened her mouth to remind him to lube up but then stopped. He wasn’t from earth, didn’t have a germ shield in place. While she wouldn’t receive any of his genetic material, he would be coated in her lube. Unshielded sex, half of the forbidden thrill she’d witnessed with Steven and Javier. That she’d felt with Rhys/Marshal. Her channel clenched at the thought, her fingers working her clit harder, faster. Viciously, she shoved all thoughts of Rhys to a corner of her mind and slammed the door. Rhys had made it clear they had no future together. With no hope of a future, there could be no relationship, and with no relationship, she was a free agent, even if she didn’t want to be. He’d had his chance to say something, but he’d been too busy sulking. Was she really just going to pine for him for the rest of her life? The way her libido worked, she doubted she could, even if she wanted to. This man wanted to touch her, and she wanted to be touched; there was nothing more to say.
Kneeling between her spread thighs, he continued to watch, consuming her with his hungry gaze. Rough hands started at her ankles and slid up over her calves, massaging behind the crook of her knees and up to stroke the inside of her thighs. He licked his lips, and she groaned when he finally touched her, dragging one blunt finger through her wet folds.
Circling the opening to her body, he spoke on a low murmur. “Did I get you into this state?”
She knew what he wanted to hear—yes, he and his massive cock had worked her into a frenzy. But she respected him too much to lie. “No, I’m just catching up on too much time spent repressed and distracted, ignoring my body’s needs.”
His gaze lifted up to her face, piercing her with that ruthless intensity. “What does your body need, Gen?”
Wearing the mask made her bold, allowed her the freedom to talk dirty, the way she’d always wanted to. The words forced themselves out on a breathless gasp. “To be fucked, hard, until I come.”
He groaned and rose to his feet, aligning his throbbing shaft with her sex. Spreading her legs until her knees rested over his elbows, he nudged forward, impaling her. She gasped as he slowly filled her, the precum beading at the crown of his shaft causing her germ shield to snap up his genetic material before it could touch her. Her channel was slick enough, though, and he closed his eyes as he surged forward in a sharp thrust.
She could feel him, that large cock throbbing deep inside her, every muscle pulsing as she made room for him. Her eyes slid shut when he withdrew and then rocked back into her slowly. “What happened to hard and quick?”
“That ain’t what you need.” His voice sounded sure, and he continued his slow and steady advance and retreat, dragging his staff out of her sheath and moving slowly back inside.
The way he held her, she had no leverage, couldn’t slam her hips to his or wrap her legs around him and pull him inside. She was totally at his mercy. No matter how she writhed or tried to spur him onward, he kept up the slow, brutal strokes.
She cursed at him, using words to enrage him into giving what she couldn’t forcibly take. He smiled and withdrew altogether, his greased staff bobbing at the mouth of her womb. He turned her over, pushing her facedown into the mattress and clambering up behind her.
“Would you just get on with it already!” she shouted at him.
Zan leaned over her, pressing his front to her back so he could cup her breasts. “So damn impatient,” he murmured while his fingers pinched her nipples. “What’s your hurry?”
She opened her mouth to say something snotty, but she didn’t have a concrete answer for him. Why
was
she trying to rush this? Not like she had anything better to do.
was
she trying to rush this? Not like she had anything better to do.
His rough palms scraped across her skin, and his prick bobbed between her splayed thighs. He rocked again, just as he’d done inside her, and the tip of him nudged her clitoris in a sharp stab that made her buck.
“That’s it,” he crooned in her ear as her body fell into rhythm with his, her hips undulating so the head of his cock swirled over her throbbing bud more on each pass, dancing, lingering, reveling in hedonistic glory. The contact was small but intense. She focused on each meeting of their flesh, aching for more. Again, he speared her and she came in an unexpected rush that erupted from her molten core like a solar flare.
“Now you’re here with me,” he growled in satisfaction. His fingers delved into the wetness she’d yielded. “Now I can fuck you hard and fast until you come all over my cock.”
He surged inside her on a brutal thrust, catching the end of the rippling wave that still washed over her. Fisting the sheets, she could do nothing but hold on for the ride. His hands left her breasts and clamped onto her hips, holding her wide open to his invasion. The way he held her, greedily, possessively as though he would never let her go, made her moan.
Sweat beaded under her mask. Her mouth hung open as she panted and gasped as he drove into her, again and again. The sharp tang of sex filled her nostrils because even though she was protected, their fluids mixed on his body.
“This is only the beginning,” he said. “I am going to take you all night, in every position I can imagine till you beg me to let you rest.”
Sounded sublime to her, but she wasn’t about to cave so easily. “And if I don’t?”
He released her hips so he could fondle her clit again. “A woman always breaks first. You aren’t made to withstand the sexual torment I could rain down on you.”
She squeezed her inner muscles, clamping down on him as he tried to withdraw from her.
“Tough words. I’ll believe them when I see them.”
A hand landed on her ass in a light stinging slap. “You gonna fight back?”
This time when he plowed into her, she shoved back. “Count on it.”
He withdrew and flipped her over again. “Ah, Gen, you are just what I needed.”
His lips met hers as he thrust into her again. The crispness of his dark pubic hair rubbed against her clit as he ground into her, stirring his cock inside of her channel.
Wrapping her legs around his waist, she took him deeper still, bucking as the head of his cock stabbed against the sensitive spot inside her until she cried out in another release.
His hips bucked in a wild, erratic pattern, and his golden eyes slid shut as he found his own slice of paradise.
Her germ shield sizzled as they lay twined together. Hesitantly, she ran her hand up along his back, tracing the deep cuts of well-defined muscles. She waited for guilt to assail her, guilt that she’d betrayed Rhys, had given her body over to Marshal’s murderer, but nothing happened.
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