Warlord Reunited: 3 (Barbarian Claims) (2 page)

“I see.” Berke turned his head, his hair flowing over his shoulders. He studied her for five long heartbeats and Elle held her breath, concerned that he saw too much.

“You can run your experiments on me first,” Berke declared. “And we’ll discuss your proposal with my brothers.”

Elle hid her relief behind a curt nod. “I agree to that.” She slipped her gun into her right hip holster. She trusted Berke to keep his word. The Warlord prized honor more than life or love or their relationship.

“Once that is done, you’ll leave the Chamele system.” He breathed deeply and his nostrils flared. “But before you depart, we’ll rut. I smell your need,
gerel
. It matches my own.”

Her face heated. She knew lust had been he had ever felt for her. ‘‘That’s not how I gather fluid samples.” She backed away from him, away from temptation, unwilling to risk her heart again to please her body. “And you have other females to satisfy your needs.”

“We are bonded.” Berke stalked toward her, maintaining the distance between them. “There aren’t any other females for me. Only you make me hard.” He swept his palm over the ridge in his leg covers, his length and girth daunting. “I need you.”

“Have you also suffered?” Elle raised her gaze. There was a starkness in his eyes, an aching void she’d never seen before. Their separation had cost him as it had cost her.

“I have suffered.” He inclined his head. “It has been too long between ruttings.”

Between ruttings.
Elle bristled at the implication that was all he needed her for. “And whose fault is that?” She twisted her lips. Berke’s lust for her wasn’t enough. It had never been enough. “You left me on Dorian 2.”

“I left you there to protect you.” His jaw jutted. “I was fighting a war.” He raked his fingers through his long black hair, brushing the strands back from his tanned face. “I continue to fight a war. Our enemy Tolui is building a clone army, creating an endless supply of warriors. You’re not safe, Ellie.”

Elle snorted softly, expressing her disbelief. “I’ve never been safe.” She unfastened her cold-temperature suit, revealing the circle of scars around her neck. “Not even on your Dorian 2.”

Berke stared at her and his cheeks paled. Silence stretched between them as long and as cold as a Chamele 1 storm. She waited, wondering if he cared enough to question her about the scars.

“How?” he finally asked, his voice lowered to a husky whisper.

“I turned my back on someone I shouldn’t have trusted.” Elle shrugged away her carelessness. That lesson had been learned and would never be forgotten. “He was twice my size but I managed to flip him over and shoot his great green ass,” she declared proudly, relishing that memory. “I was fortunate he hadn’t used the laser wire or he would have decapitated me before I—”

Berke threw back his head and roared, the animalistic sound chilling Elle to her now-thawed toes. Claws extended from his hands and his muscles flexed. His body shimmered, fluctuating in and out of view. Chameles
had the envy-inspiring ability to turn invisible.

Stars.
She gazed at him with awe and wonder and desire, having never seen Berke lose control.
This is why he sees me as weak.

The Warlord rushed forward and flung her over his shoulder, the impact driving the breath from her lungs. Her gun clattered to the stone floor. She pounded his back with her fists and kicked his stomach with her boots, instinctively trying to free herself.

Berke ignored her struggles and stomped into another chamber, carrying her as though she weighed nothing, his bare feet slapping on the floor. He dropped her onto a huge bed, the silver fabric covering the structure decadently soft. She bounced and sputtered and he covered her with his big body, stilling her flailing arms and legs.

“Ellie, Ellie, my foolish Ellie,” Berke murmured into her hair. “I failed to protect you. You were supposed to be safe.” He pulled her suit down over her shoulders and dragged his lips along her scars. “If you had died—” His voice broke.

Elle blinked, not knowing what to do with this new emotional Berke. “You would have been free.” She squirmed, trapped under his massive physique, unable to bear his tender touch, knowing what he felt was guilt, not love, not deep caring. “You could have then bonded with someone else, a female more suitable to be your
gerel
, a
Chamele mate.”

“You’re my
gerel
.” Berke braced his body upward, his gaze fixed on her face.

“You said our bonding was a mistake,” Elle reminded him of his hurtful words, that surprising admission coming from a male who prided himself on always being right. “My death would have been one solution to your problem.”

“Your death is no solution to anything.” Berke scowled, his gaze returning to her neck. “I should have chosen a safer planet.”

“Chamele 1 is a safer planet.” Captured by his big body and her undeniable need for him, Elle accepted the inevitable. They’d rut but only on her terms. “There are other skills than strength.” She stripped off her gloves and splayed her fingers over his back, savoring the pain-free touching. Berke’s skin was warm and ridged with scars, the marks providing visible proof of the battles he’d been fighting. “If you weren’t so stubborn, so arrogant about your own abilities, you would have known that.”

She bent her knees, cradling him between her thighs, pressing her mons against the hard ridge in his leg coverings. “I could have fought by your side and we could have won your war…together.” Desire flowed over her, sweetened by memories of their past ruttings, clandestine encounters between a young bounty hunter and the Warlord whose planet she’d crashed upon. “There would have been no need for separation, for pain.”

“It was too dangerous.” He laved her scar with the flat of his tongue and she arched, pushing into his mouth, the sensation exquisite. “I had to protect you.” He grazed his teeth along her neck and she trembled.

“You didn’t have to protect me. I have skills. I can take care—”

Berke surged upward and Elle turned her head, denying him her mouth. His lips skimmed along her cheek, hot and firm.

“No kissing,” she told him. “Kissing is for lovers. If you want to rut, we’ll rut, but that’s all I’ll give you.”

“That’s not all you’ll give me.” He gripped her chin tightly, his fingers pressing into her skin, and he forced her to face him, his eyes glittering with dangerous intent. “I’m your mate. You’ll give me everything I want.”

Berke smashed his lips against hers, smothering her retort, taking what she vowed to never again freely give him. He stabbed his tongue into the seam of her lips, demanding entry.

Elle clenched her teeth, blocking his sensual assault, knowing if she allowed him inside her, she’d lose more of her heart to him, a male determined to reject her. She pounded on his shoulders with her fists, writhing under him.

Berke growled his discontentment and smacked his hand over her cloth-covered right breast in a primitive act of ownership. He squeezed her roughly, pinching her nipple between his fingers. Elle gasped and he invaded, plunging his tongue into her mouth.

She clung to him as he possessed her, explored her, his mouth tasting of charred meat, spices and dominant male, her male. He’d hurt her again, her fierce Warlord. She should push him away from her, maintain her dignity, her pride, her soul.

Their tongues slid together, tangling, tumbling and the warning sounds ringing in Elle’s mind faded, replaced by the roar of rising passion. Berke pulled her suit lower, freeing her breasts, and she wiggled under him in delight, anticipating his coarse touch, having dreamed of his hands during the endless nights they’d been apart.

He cupped and caressed with firm, knowing fingers, and she moaned into his mouth, needing more, needing him. Berke tightened his grip, pinching and releasing, pinching and releasing her nipples, flooding her senses with an arousing combination of pleasure and pain.

Elle raised her hips and ground herself against him, the layers of leather and fabric frustrating her. He drove her back, pinning her ass to the bed, controlling her movement. She raked her nails over his back, punishing him, and he hissed, his breath streaming over her lips.

“Be still, female,” Berke rumbled, his cheek pressing against hers, his lips tickling her earlobe. “I want you too much.” He moved his hips in slow, sensuous circles, coiling her need tighter.

“I want you more.” Elle licked down his neck, tasting salt and him. His veins pulsed under her tongue, the rapid tempo belying his emotionless expression.
He desires me.
She nipped at Berke’s collarbone and his cock bobbed, covered by black leather. “Take me, Warlord.” She glided her palms over his stomach, eager to touch him.

“I said be still.” He yanked her hands away from him, pressing his fingers into her wrists, and he stretched her arms above her head, holding her with one big hand, pulling her body tight underneath him.

“And I said to take me.” She arched, pushing her breasts into his chest, savoring the feel of skin on skin, reveling in his dominance. No one had ever mastered her as Berke had, the Warlord’s strength and control unmatched. “Rut into me hard and fast. Punish me for our bonding, for taking that choice away from you. Release some of the anger you must feel.”

“I knew bonding was wrong yet I couldn’t resist you.” Berke’s eyes darkened to the unrelieved blackness of open space and Elle trembled, wondering if she had pushed him too far this time. “I put you in danger, made you a target, failed to protect you.” He glanced at her scars and his grip on her wrists intensified even more. His claws extended and the lethal tips pricked her skin, dangerously close to her veins.

Elle stared silently up at Berke. Although she was smaller, weaker, unarmed, with no defense against his rarely revealed rage, she trusted in his code of honor. She trusted him not to physically hurt her.

“I would have sent more guards, moved you to a safer planet.” Berke grazed the claws of his free hand over her suit, shredding the material, leaving her completely naked, exposed and unprotected. “And you should have stayed where I placed you. You promised to wait for me.” He threaded his claws through her private curls and she spread her legs, opening to him, giving him access to all of her. “To obey me.”

“I never promised.” She shuddered as he dragged a sharp tip over her clit, leaving a trail of pleasure, his control of his natural weapons awe-inspiring. “You told me to wait but I knew.” The claw slid into her entrance and Elle panted, thrilled by the possible danger. “I knew you’d never fully claim me.”

“I said I would return.” Berke retracted his claws and plunged three thick fingers into her pussy, stretching her ruthlessly, as though he wished to punish her for her lack of faith. He worked her hard, drawing more moisture from her core, and she rocked into his hand, needing this, the combination of pain and pleasure, needing him, the only male she trusted to subdue her.

Her passion rose quickly, primed by many solar cycles of denial, of never-ending nights of building need with no satisfaction. He leaned his forehead against hers as he stroked in and out, in and out, the scent of her arousal filling the sleeping chamber. His breath wafted on her lips, hot and real, grounding her in reality.

“Berke, please,” Elle moaned, yearning for more, his fingers not enough for her. “I need your cock inside me.”

“You don’t deserve my cock,” he rumbled and her pussy clenched around his fingers, the added friction making her writhe. “You questioned my vow to you. You didn’t trust me, your mate, your only.”

“Wanted to…fix…mistake,” she panted, close, so very close to coming.

“How?” Berke stilled and she whimpered, needing one more pump of his hand to push her over the edge. “How would running away fix any of our mistakes?”

“Berke,” she pleaded, past pride, past everything, her worlds revolving around the rough, calloused fingers teasing her pussy folds.

“Tell me,
gerel
.” The command in his voice made her head jerk upward.

Berke stared at her, his chin squared, his jaw jutted. Elle stared back, seeing the inevitable outcome in his black eyes. He wouldn’t relent. He never relented. She was always the being to bend, to break, to hurt.

She closed her eyes, hiding from that all-seeing gaze of his, shielding herself emotionally. “I thought time and distance would sever our bond,” she admitted “That leaving you would fix our mistake.”

“Look at me,” he ordered softly.

Elle shook her head, unable to face him, to see the truth in his eyes, that he had never cared for her, had never wanted to bond with her
.

“Look at me.” Berke shook her shoulders and she met his gaze, compelled by his dominance. His black eyebrows had lowered over his glittering eyes, his scars a stark silver against his tanned angular face.

“We’re bonded for life.” He spoke slowly as though he wanted her to note every word, to remember this moment, this message. “This isn’t one of your experiments. This is Chamele biology.”

His face hardened even more. “If you ever run away from me again, I’ll smack your ass so hard you won’t be able to sit down for eight planet rotations, do you understand?”

Stars.
Elle stared at him, her pussy gushing, the moisture wetting her inner thighs.

“Do you understand?” Berke repeated, his tone harsher, stimulating her even more.