Читать книгу Primal Heat - Crystal Jordan - Страница 8

Brenna couldn’t sleep.

She sat at her kitchen table, wrapped in a bathrobe and nursing a mug of decaf. Two in the morning was no time to pump caffeine into her system. It sure as hell wouldn’t help. She wasn’t an eighteen-year-old army private who could go days without sleep and not feel it. That time had come and gone over a decade and a half ago. When she was on duty tomorrow, she’d be hurting and wishing to God she’d found a way to get some shut-eye. A sigh slid from her, and she scrubbed a tired hand over her forehead.

This wasn’t the first sleepless night she’d had recently, and they were becoming more and more frequent. The plus side was her house was spotless. The down side was…well, she was parked in her kitchen at o-dark-thirty blinking grit from her eyes. Again.

She focused on the only thing out of place in the pristine room. The little device sitting in the middle of her table. It was round, had a dome-shaped speaker on top, and could fit snugly in the palm of her hand. Reaching out, she pushed down on the dome and a high-pitched static with a buzzing, electronic squeal issued from the speaker. Wincing, she clicked it again and turned it off.

It was hard to believe that something so small could dull the massive psychic powers of an alien. Her commanding officer had had scientists working on the prototype for months, but now it was ready for use in their war against the Kith. She wasn’t sure how it worked exactly, or even how they’d tested it to make sure it did work, but there were a lot of things she wasn’t sure about anymore.

Which was what was keeping her up at night, if she was honest with herself. Not that she wanted to be. She’d be a lot better off if she could stuff her head back in the sand. Taking a sip of her coffee, she closed her eyes and slumped in her chair.

“Jesus,” she groaned.

Pushing to her feet, she wandered into her living room, flipped the television on to the news, and plopped onto her couch. The headlines scrolled by, reports about the imminent alien invasion and what the military was doing to stop it. She shook her head and set her mug down on the coffee table.

It all came back to General Arthur and the Kith. An entire armada of alien warships had shown up almost a year ago, and they’d been orbiting Earth ever since, a constant menacing presence in the sky. They claimed to be from a planet called Suen. They claimed Earth was an abandoned colony settled by slaves of the weaker Kin race—weaker humans. They claimed they had no interest in Earth except to find their emperor’s soul mate, his One, who was somewhere among the unwashed of humanity.

Right.

As if a fleet of warships traveled all the way across the universe for one human woman. Bren snorted and flipped her long braid over her shoulder. They could have at least come up with a story that didn’t insult people’s intelligence.

Leading the campaign of bullshit was Lord Farid Arjun. Her mind provided an image of the tall, blond, and gorgeous Kith diplomat. She shivered, a frisson of excitement, longing, and loathing went through her. The alien was her enemy, cold, condescending, and rude, but he could do things with his mind that were indecent, and since the first day he’d met her, he’d never stopped toying with her. She stomped down on that thought, embarrassed that she couldn’t control her reaction to an alien with a smooth tongue gilded with lies.

No matter what diplomats like Arjun said, the world had devolved into mass hysteria when the Sueni arrived. Some people wanted to roll out the welcome wagon, but most were just afraid of a vastly more powerful race of people with technology and weaponry the likes of which had never been seen on Earth before. People were scared. Bren was one of those people. But more than scared, she was mad. Mad that anyone thought they had the right to show up after a couple of millennia and say, “Oh, we’re back, slaves. Thanks for looking after things, now get back in your cage.”

Hell, no. Earth wasn’t going down without a fight, and she was determined to be on the front line. She’d been William Arthur’s right hand for fifteen of the eighteen years she’d been in the service. She was behind him when he ordered a preemptive strike against the Sueni that had blown one of their ships out of the sky, and she was behind him when he worked to consolidate the military forces of Earth to create a global defense system.

But more and more often in the last few months, she’d questioned the orders Arthur had given. His new campaigns seemed to be less about protecting people than they were about gathering more power for himself.

She swallowed, clicked off the TV, and scrambled to her feet, all but running to her bedroom and slamming the door behind her to shut out the truth. Dread cramped her belly. She didn’t want to think about this, didn’t want to consider what it meant.

The ramifications were even more terrifying than the Sueni shuttles that came and went despite the warnings and missiles fired from Earth. Other than the one ship down, the Sueni hadn’t lost a single person and had deflected further attacks. So far they’d done nothing violent. They hadn’t even retaliated for the lost ship. It made her uneasy. The shuttles stayed no more than a few hours in one place before leaving again. They could be searching for something—someone—as they’d said, or they could be scouting out vulnerabilities for a violent, bloody endgame.

How much would Arthur’s little white noise device, his new secret weapon, actually help them in driving away the Sueni? She didn’t know. No one did. Yet. The one question that kept resurfacing in her mind was: when did it end? If they finally managed to get rid of the Sueni, what would be left of the world? Would Arthur hand military control back over to individual countries? If they tried to break away from him by force, who would win?

No one. That was the answer. Everything circled back to this being a no-win situation. Shrugging out of her robe, she flopped into bed and beat her pillow into a comfortable shape. If she could learn to nap through bombs going off outside her tent in a hellish desert, she could snooze through stress and doubts—doubts that might not be founded in anything other than sleep-deprived paranoia. She closed her eyes, shut down her mind, and willed herself into slumber.

But it wasn’t dreams that found her. It was him. Again.

Heat screamed through her body, a sudden sexual awakening that was as much pleasure as pain. The shift was so abrupt, it was almost terrifying. Almost.

The moment sleep claimed her, he was over her, on her, in her. Her body arched on the mattress as his cock filled her. And filled her. Her pussy throbbed, clenching tight. Her fists bunched in the sheets, her hips writhing as pleasure rocketed through her. She tried to jerk back, tried to escape the onslaught of ecstasy, but there was no escaping her own mind. He came to her like this, in her dreams, flooding her thoughts with sensations so real she couldn’t tell where the fantasy ended and reality began.

She wished it were just a dream, a fantasy, but she knew it wasn’t. It was him. Farid. He was doing this to her. The Kith nobleman was using his mind to fuck her senseless. As much as she craved it, she hated it—him—hated the power he wielded, hated that the sensual alien had shredded her world when he’d landed on Earth.

Fire licked at her flesh, and she bit her lip hard enough to draw blood, fighting him, fighting herself. It was no use, she knew. She’d struggled every time he’d reached for her psychically, and every time she’d failed. He sucked her into the maelstrom of carnality, drowned her in feelings she usually avoided at all costs. She hated the lack of control, the inevitable betrayal of her own body.

God help her, it felt so fucking amazing.

The sensation of being stretched beyond bearing was so vivid, she thought she would die. The last tethers between her and reality ripped loose as he began thrusting inside her. Then she was there, somewhere lost in a dream. The bed was still beneath her, the soft sheets rough against her sensitized flesh, the thick, hot summer night breeze still brushed across her naked breasts, and yet he was with her, in her.

His green eyes sparked as he looked at her, a physical manifestation of his power. The more excited he was, the faster the sparks would come, bursting like tiny fireworks in his irises. A distant part of her wondered if the sparks would stop when the white noise device was turned on, then she tamped down on the thought as fast as she could. The man was inside her head. He could read her thoughts.

He froze over her, as though he sensed that her mind had strayed to something besides what he was doing to her. She struggled to lock away the secrets she knew, scrambling for something to distract this enemy who was deep within her. Licking her lips, she watched his gaze zero in on her movements. His cock throbbed in her pussy, and she squeezed her inner muscles around him. He shuddered, groaned, and began thrusting again, caught in the tempest as much as she had been. She gasped when he ground his hips against her, forcing her thighs wide. A whimper escaped her when his big hand closed over her breast and he pinched her nipple hard between his fingers. Her body bowed under the lash of pleasured pain.

“Brenna,” he breathed, and the word echoed in her mind. His need crackled through the connection between them, driving her desires higher. “Bren. My little khalaa.”

Her hands left the sheets, reaching up to bury in his hair. The silken strands sifted through her fingers and they both shivered. He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing as something beyond ecstasy flickered across his expression. Some part of this had to be pure dream. The man was never this open in real life.

Then he withdrew his long cock, only to slam deep inside her pussy, and nothing mattered but this moment. There were no secrets and no lies, no hiding. She didn’t care what was genuine and what wasn’t, only that he could give her what she needed. His heavy muscles played against her, the heat of his flesh branding her as their hips rolled against each other. The friction of his rougher flesh on her clit made her cry out, ecstasy reverberating through her. His strong hands slid under her, his fingers bit into her ass, and he lifted her into each hot, hard penetration.

“Oh, my God.”

Sweat slipped down her temples to tickle in her hair. She shivered, sobbing for air as her nails dug into his flesh. A low growl rumbled in his chest, and the other side of his nature flashed in his eyes. The animal, the beast, the shape-shifter. Long fangs curved from his mouth and he hissed softly when she grinned at him and raked her nails down his back.

“Always pushing me, Bren.” He shook his head.

She laughed up at him, mocking him and his control. If she had to be stripped of her control and if she couldn’t win the fight against him or herself, she was dragging him down with her. Clenching her internal walls around his thick cock, she closed her eyes and smiled when he gave a low, helpless groan of pure need. His muscles bunched and released beneath her hands as he hammered into her, his thrusts picking up speed and force. The impact of his skin slapping against hers echoed in her bedroom, the sound shockingly carnal.

Her heart raced and her excitement built to a screaming fever pitch. She could feel an orgasm rising like a tide inside her, threatening, beckoning. God, she wanted it, threw herself toward it. If she couldn’t have the self-discipline she always craved, she’d revel in the lack of it. It made her blood rush in her veins, her breath come faster, her muscles shake with pleasure and fear of how that pleasure overwhelmed her.

“Now.” She wrapped her legs around his flanks, digging her heels in to lift herself higher into his thrusts. “Make me come.”

“Yesss.” His groaned tangled with an almost feline hiss. His chest heaved in bellowing breaths, great shudders wracking his body. “I…can’t hold on much longer.”

“Don’t. Come with—” She went over the edge before she could finish the sentence, the heat and need and ecstasy coalescing into one blinding explosion. Her sex pulsed around his cock, milking his hard length. He ground his pelvis against her clit and sent another wave of orgasm slamming into her, dragging her deeper. Her body arched and she screamed, the sound drowned out by the deafening leonine roar from him as he followed her into orgasm.

She clung to him, squeezing his hips between her thighs as he flooded her pussy with his hot fluids. His eyes widened, meeting hers, the green sparks coming so fast the entire iris seemed to glow.

He was so beautiful.

The smile that kicked up the corner of his mouth told her he’d heard her thought. She could only hope that was the only thought he’d heard. Ice flowed through her veins. If anyone ever found out about this, her career was over. If she found out he’d dug information from her while mind-fucking her, she’d never forgive herself. It might be worth it to see if sleeping with the white noise maker on could ward him off, but she had her doubts. The man had power that wouldn’t quit, and she hated that she needed a machine to help her control the situation.

She swallowed, let her arms and legs fall away from him, and collapsed back to the mattress. His gaze shuttered, withdrawing as she had. His mouth opened and closed again. Sighing, he shook his head. At her or at himself, she didn’t know. She worked hard to control her breathing, to slow her heartbeat down to normal levels, kicking herself as she always did for losing out to her baser needs.

He brushed tender fingers down her cheek and over her eyes, closing them. “Sleep now, khalaa.”

A soft, replete sigh escaped her, and still she struggled against a command that went beyond words. He used his powers to fog her mind, to make the sweetness of dreams take her all the way under into real sleep, and she knew when she awakened he’d have evaporated like so much smoke on the sultry midnight breeze.

And she’d spend the day cursing herself for losing the battle of wills between them.

Again.

Farid clawed his way out of the dream, his skin aflame, his pulse still racing as his muscles shook with his recently spent orgasm.

Only he knew it was no dream, no phantasm. It had been a mental connection with his One. He rolled to the edge of his gelpad, tossed aside the soft rishaami bedclothes, and sat up, burying his face in his hands.

What was he doing? This was utter madness. He had no desire to bond with the woman or even tell her that she was his One. He’d seen long ago how such a bond could destroy people. No one would ever get close enough to him to be allowed that kind of power. It was never to be. Not for them. It was only when he slept, when the tight reins he kept on his control slipped, that his mind reached out for her.

“You did not sleep well, Lord Arjun?” The androgynous voice of the Vishra sounded through his chambers. The semi-sentient ship could read limited emotions, its technology inlaid with just enough psychic power to allow the Kith to link with it.

His hands fell away from his face. “No, I didn’t.”

A beat passed while the ship processed that information. “Would you like me to adjust the temperature or add a somnolence dose to the air?”

“Thank you, no. I’m going to rise and begin my work shift early.” Trying to sleep now was an unappetizing prospect. He pushed to his feet, drawn to the wide windows across from his bed. Another warship like the Vishra drifted beside them in space, framed by stars. The ship looked like a great bird of prey, ready to dive on an unsuspecting planet at any moment and wreck havoc. A sharp beak at the front was the command deck and behind that graceful metallic curves formed the wings. Beautiful. And deadly.

The razer cannons on the wings could bring a planet to its knees. The fleet of ships could rule the galaxy. They’d had no intention to use the weapons, but when escorting an emperor across the universe, it was always best to be prepared. Not that that had saved those they’d lost along the way.

He shook his head to rid himself of his morose thoughts, his fatigue from too little sleep and too many worries, and his need for his One. It always came back to her for him. And he doubted she had the same trouble dismissing him from her thoughts. A low growl issued from his throat, and he spun on his heel, padded into his sanitation room, and went straight to the shower. A sigh slid out as he sent a mental command for the water to flow. It pelted him from multiple directions and he set his hands against the slick metal wall, bowed his head, and let the heated liquid slide over him, washing the scent of his own passion away.

The connection between his One and him was still open, and it narrowed as she transitioned into true dreams, but a final wave of her lust slammed into him, almost dragging him to his knees. His cock went hard in an instant, aching with need he’d just spent. Such passion under her cynical exterior. If he wasn’t so attuned to her, he’d never have guessed it. The knowledge drove him wild, though, and the beast he always wrestled with for dominance purred in satisfaction as echoes of Bren’s pleasure rippled through his body.

Anun save him. He groaned, and the sound resonated within the small, metal-walled room. The need for her nagged at him, his body demanding what he couldn’t have. Closing his eyes, he slid his hand down his stomach until he grasped his cock. Another groan ripped from his throat. He pumped the length of his dick between his fingers, and the rhythm was fast, punishing.

He wanted her with him as she had been before and cursed his weakness. Testing the connection between them, he found she’d awakened. He drew away from the link between them so she wouldn’t be forced to feel what he felt, though the beast within him struggled against the loss of contact.

Instead he conjured an image of her in his mind, allowing himself the true fantasy this time. Her long, rich brown hair spread over his bedclothes. Her toned body arched, her nipples tight with need. By Anun, she was beautiful. The hot water sluiced over his flesh, a liquid caress that only served to arouse him further. His breath sped and sweat slid down his face to mingle with the shower water. The sound of his heart pounding filled his ears as he pictured Bren’s hands clutching at his shoulders, her legs wrapped around his waist as she demanded he take her, touch her, fuck her harder.

“Yesss.” The feline within made the word a hiss, and it echoed in the sanitation room. His cock throbbed, his hips slamming forward to plunge his shaft into the tight ring of his fingers. Too easily, he could imagine the slick sheath of her body. When the mental connection snapped into place, it was strong, and he knew her body as she did. Every curve, every smooth inch of skin.

His muscles locked as he came, the mere thought of her enough to shove him into orgasm. Come erupted from him in spurts, waves of heat flowing through him. He shuddered hard, stroked his cock until there was nothing left, and held tight to the fantasy of his One in his bed, where he knew she would never be.

He didn’t want to bond with her, but given the opportunity to fuck her, he wouldn’t hesitate. He craved her and he could never touch her, not truly, not with the way things stood between their people. Something painful wrenched deep inside him at that thought. So many tangled wants and needs, so many barriers and obstacles. He shook his head, slumping against the wall, as exhausted as if he hadn’t slept at all.

Anun, he was tired of it. He wanted all of this madness to end.

“Shower off. Dryer on.” The water stopped flowing and instead gusts of warm air shot from the same spigots that had spouted the water moments before. Even though the air was hot, he shivered as it hit the moisture on his skin, gooseflesh breaking down his arms and legs. Shoving his fingers into his short hair, he rumpled the wet strands and sent droplets flying.

A few minutes later, he was dressed, neat, and ready to start his workday. Walking toward the door, he stopped short when his gaze caught on a hologram flickering across one wall that he’d programmed his imager to display. It was the only part of his room that had any personal meaning. A hologram of his family, smiling and happy, mocked him silently. He had no family now. He was the last Arjun.

His gaze moved over his mother’s face. She had laughter dancing in her eyes. His father radiated pride, one hand on Farid’s shoulder, the other holding his mate’s. In the center was his sister, beautiful and bright as a sunbeam. Cilji. She’d been so young then, and Farid himself had been barely of age. So long ago, so many wonderful memories that would never be more than that now. Gone. All gone. He’d lost them one by one, each death more heartrending than the next.

The image dissolved and a holofilm his mother had taken of his graduation from the academy began playing. He drew himself up, took a deep breath, and tugged at his sleeves to be certain they were in place. Turning away from what no longer was, he left his room.

It was rare he allowed himself to think of that time. He preferred the happier version of his family captured by the imagers. It must be this dilemma with Bren that had him tripping over the past, unable to get out of its way and let it rest.

But the past was what made him what he was, the loss of his family was what made the very idea of bonding with his One so abhorrent to him. He shuddered, Cilji’s lifeless eyes flashing through his memory, her blood drying on his skin as the warmth left her slender body. He’d never understand the actions she or her One had taken. He just knew that he’d been left to pick up the pieces. He’d been left to answer the questions of others. And he was the one left wondering why.

The only answer he had was that he never, ever wanted to be in a position to make those same choices. He was of an age that he’d thought he could rest assured he didn’t have a One, that he could marry a Kith of appropriate social standing and rebuild his line. He still intended to once they returned home. If they ever returned home. He ruthlessly subdued the feline’s screech of protest at touching anyone besides its mate. The man had a duty to the Arjun name that the instinct-driven beast would never understand. Duty that had nothing to do with Bren or Ones or even desire. His body throbbed at the reminder of the desire Bren and he shared. If the dreams were so intense, it was dangerous to even allow himself to imagine truly touching her.

He sighed, rubbing the grit from his eyes.

“You look terrible.”

Farid was chuckling before his hand left his face. The ship’s second in command came striding down the hall, a wide grin on his face. “Haakesh. Diplomatic as ever, I see.”

Haakesh gave a brief salute, the light overhead glinting off the short man’s shiny pate. “It is amazing I’ve advanced this far in the fleet, is it not?”

“I think you have your One to thank for that. How is Mythri?” In truth, Haakesh was too likeable for anyone to ever take offense. His men loved him and would follow him anywhere. Add that to being a fearless soldier and it was no mystery why he’d achieved the rank he had. Whatever he lacked in finesse, his One more than managed to smooth over in her position in the diplomatic corps. To Farid’s mind, the two of them were the perfect Kith pairing. His parents had been like that before they’d met their tragic end. One more reason to avoid Bren—even when things seemed perfect in a bond, they were always a single step from pain, disaster, and death.

Haakesh grinned wickedly, his white teeth flashing in contrast with his dark skin. “I left Mythri resting in our rooms. She’ll be recovered sufficiently when her work shift starts.”

Farid coughed into his fist to hide a smile, unable to withstand Haakesh’s good cheer. “As her superior, I can only express the diplomatic corps’ gratitude at your restraint.”

The older man laughed, clapped Farid on the shoulder, and continued down the hallway and around a corner. The main shift was about to start. Farid’s shift. When not guided by the sunlight on their home planet of Suen, they divided the day into three shifts. Mythri and Haakesh worked the second shift, which meant they could spend the other two together. Farid was glad for both of them that the emperor had seen fit to bring diplomats on this voyage.

Then again, it could be because Farid had suggested it to his younger cousin, and Kyber was an intelligent leader. Considering how poor their reception on Earth had been, Farid was even more grateful he’d convinced Kyber to allow his small coterie of diplomats.

Somehow, his attempts to explain the concept of a One, a bond between two minds in perfect sync, had gone awry. Humans were unwilling to believe that they would have come so far to find the emperor’s One. It was only because he was the emperor that they were here. Not because the Kith wouldn’t travel across space to find their One, but because only the emperor was powerful enough to sense his One from so great a distance. Even Farid hadn’t managed to sense his until they’d arrived on the planet and he’d been face-to-face with her.

The Earthans’ stubborn irrationality knew no bounds, and a wave of rage went through Farid as he remembered how their hysteria had cost Sueni lives. Thousands and thousands of Sueni lives. General Arthur had gathered the motley armies of Earth together and they’d launched nuclear missiles at the Anshar, the smallest ship in the Sueni armada. They’d choosen the spacecraft least able to defend itself, and the result had been devastating. Everyone on board had died. The loss of lives had reverberated along his senses, ripping him from a deep sleep. Their panic and pain had flooded his mind in a great wave. He swallowed, closing his eyes. It was a mistake the Sueni would never make again, and their razer cannons vaporized the almost daily warheads that launched into the sky, but it didn’t bring back those who had died so needlessly.

Kyber had ordered his people not to fight back. He wanted his One and only his One. Once they found her, they would leave this rock hovering on the back end of space and never look back. Farid had been the one left to handle whatever fruitless negotiations were to be had with Earth. He knew he was merely dragging matters out until the emperor’s One was found, but it didn’t stop him from trying to do his job. If it rankled that Kyber had effectively tied his hands by allowing no retribution, he knew his frustration was nothing compared to those who had lost family and friends in the bombing.

Sighing, he shoved away the anger, the fatigue, and the relentless, completely unacceptable desire for Bren that nagged at him. He hurried his step to reach his office.

He had work to do.

Bren patted her hair to make sure it was in its usual tidy knot at the nape of her neck, resolutely pushing the erotic dream with Farid the night before from her mind. Again. There were some women who liked the titillation of sleeping with the enemy, but she didn’t think much of those women. It didn’t matter that the Kith could make a woman come with a mere glance, a simple thought.

Lord Farid was not welcome in her mind or in her dreams. He was a cold, heartless bastard. Condescending, smug, ruthless.

She clenched her jaw and shoved a loose bobby pin into place with more force than the action required. She winced when it scraped her scalp. Stomping on her wayward thoughts of the too attractive, too arrogant alien nobleman, she made her way through the security checkpoints in the Pentagon. The building was a far cry from the baking deserts and sweltering jungles she’d spent years in.

Dropping her purse on her desk, she glanced up to see Arthur motioning her into his office. He had a phone glued to his ear and a dozen stacks of paperwork on his desk. Dark circles made smudges under his eyes, and she doubted he’d been home the night before. She doubted his sleepless night had been as disturbing as hers.

She snapped to attention in front of his desk as he set the phone on its cradle. “Sir?”

“At ease, Sergeant Major.”

She relaxed, tucking her hands behind her back, feet shoulder width apart. “What can I do for you, sir?”

Sitting back in his chair, he picked up a paperweight and tossed it from one hand to the other. “A new country will be joining our coalition. It’s going to be a lot of work for you in the next few months. You know how difficult it can be to get a new member up to speed.”

“Yes, sir.” She’d been in the thick of it when they formed the worldwide coalition of militaries and had done more paperwork to make it all happen than she’d wanted to do in her entire life. She’d much rather be out in the field, but if this is how she could best serve her country, she’d do the best job that could be done. “Which country, sir?”

A triumphant, almost cruel expression crossed his face. “China.”

That was not an answer she wanted to hear. The bottom dropped out of her stomach.

Oh, shit.