Raptor's Desire (A Planet Desire novelette)(2)

He’d been brought aboard my small transport ship, a cargo so precious and dangerous the governor of the outlying fortress had refused to hold him long enough for a military transport to arrive. I’d been promised a fortune to deliver him to the Dominion courts, and I’d assured the governor that Khalim’s suspension chamber would hold him safely.

Before I’d slept in my own chamber for the duration of the month-long journey, I’d inspected his, and checked to be certain the sleep inducements would last. But I’d been unable to resist a thorough inspection of his body as he lay inside.

I was a woman who’d spent too many months alone aboard my ship in deep space, my imagination my only company. And his body was beautiful. What harm would there be to look and stroke my hands over his still flesh?

And I had, much to my shame.

But this dream was too vivid. Even for the elaborate fantasies I often built to while away the days and weeks of my travels. His scent, his warm skin, his hard hands. His cock that stretched me—achingly.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” I asked, afraid of the answer and his knowing smile, and ashamed of my body’s creamy response. My lips trembled, and his gaze fell to my mouth. I closed my eyes.

“No. You’re not dreaming.” His mouth descended on mine, and I was lost to his mastery. His firm lips pressed mine, and his tongue stabbed between my lips, sweeping over the roof of my mouth, gliding along my tongue, inciting me to suck.

I moaned, and my traitorous body released a fresh wash of liquid arousal.

He growled deep in his throat, and his hands squeezed my ass and lifted me, and then pushed me down—moving me, finally, up and down his thick shaft.

Mindless now, I threw back my head and clutched his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin as I climbed the precipice. “Don’t stop,” I begged. “Please, harder.”

His body shuddered between my legs, and his hips joined our dance, working in contradiction to the hands that directed my hips, pulling out as he lifted me, thrusting deeper as he ground my * down his length. Deeper, harder, faster—until I shattered. My long, keening cry ripped through the stillness around us.

When I opened my eyes, my head lay upon his shoulder, rising and falling with his ragged breaths. Drowsy, sated, I was less afraid and less believing, because I’d never experienced such depth of passion in my life. I smoothed my cheek on his warm skin. “If this isn’t a dream, then what is it?”

“A possession. You are mine.”

Irritation cooled my body. I unwrapped my legs from his waist, and he lowered me until my feet sank into the sand. Although my knees trembled, I fisted my hands and stepped away from him. “I’m no man’s possession. This hallucination ends now.”

“The choice isn’t yours.” His words, not spoken, echoed around me, inside me.

I pointed my finger at him. “You’re my prisoner.”

He folded his arms over his chest. “Am I?” Again, a small, mocking smile curved the corners of his lips.

“Damn you and your questions! I won’t let you change the course of this ship. I’ll never give you my password,” I cried out, angry and frightened. Surely this was only a nightmare. “Leave me.”

The sun glinted behind him, a corona so bright I raised my arm to shield my eyes. When I opened them again, he was gone, and a hawk perched upon my arm. The bird sat so calmly, I wasn’t alarmed. “Is this a trick?” I shouted over the endless red peaks.

The bird stirred, drawing my attention. His golden, unblinking gaze held mine for a long moment.

“Are you his, as well?” I dared to lift my hand and stroke the brown and black feathers on his head. “Such a proud creature. You know you’re beautiful.” I stroked his chest, and the action calmed my heart. “I shouldn’t be dreaming. This is his doing, isn’t it?”

His talons pricked me, and I raised my arm, hoping he’d take flight into the aqua sky. His wings unfurled from his body, and a gust of wind arose. He flapped, his talons now digging painfully into my skin to keep his perch. Then he flapped again, and his tawny wingtips fluttered across my nipples. The sensation was ephemeral, but erotic, tightening the tips into buds, and I gasped—

Andromeda O’Keefe choked. The aspirating tube had retracted, and she was drowning.

“You’re coming out of suspension too quickly,” a deep voice, disembodied, came from beyond her gel-filled capsule.

She opened hers eyes, blinking against the light shining down through the clear hatch of her chamber, and met a golden-eyed gaze. She recognized him instantly. Her prisoner was free!

She fought the urge to inhale more of the suspension gel and searched with her hands for the hood latch inside her chamber.

Before her hand connected with the latch, the panel popped, and the dark-haired man tossed back the hatch and reached inside. A large, rough-skinned hand slid beneath her shoulders, another beneath her thighs, and he lifted her easily from her warm cocoon to the cooler air on the bridge of her ship.

Andromeda sucked in air and gagged. He knelt to lay her on the floor. Once her chest quieted, she realized her predicament. She was naked and wet, lying on her back with her prisoner, Khalim Padja, also naked, and standing over her. He held out his hand, palm up. Not an offer of aid. His implacable expression demanded she accept.

As she didn’t have a choice, she laid her hand in his, and he drew her up. Her legs threatened to buckle beneath her from disuse after her slumber. He’d obviously been free longer for he seemed to suffer no such weakness, and he slid an arm around her waist, pulling her close.