“Oh, there’s no danger of that happening,” she muttered. “So now what?”

He pulled her close to him, kissing her lightly on the lips. She raised both hands to his shoulders, and then he leaned down and picked her up, striding down the hallway toward his cabin.

“I’ve decided to have my wicked way with you,” he muttered, a gleam of appreciation in his eyes.

“Don’t bother fighting it, I won’t let you go.”

“Do you see me fighting?” she asked archly. “Walk faster.”

* * * * *

Josiah drifted in the pod, waiting for his people to come and get him. It would be another thirty minutes at least before they arrived. He’d waited to send for them, wanting to make sure that Jerred and Giselle had enough time to get away.

He wondered for the thousandth time if he was going soft. For so many years he’d had to fight for his survival, and he’d never hesitated to kill an enemy. Still, it was hard to think of Jerred as an enemy.

They’d worked together for many years, exchanging information that benefited them both. He’d known Jerred was spying on him—known it for the past year at least. But until now he hadn’t worried about it.

He knew Jerred, and could predict what he’d do with the information he stole.

This time had been different, though. He’d known it if from the minute he’d seen his old friend.

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Something had changed for him, and now he knew what it was. Giselle. It was a pity, really, that he’d had to take them prisoner at all. Fortunately, his own people had ferreted the spy out, allowing him to set them free. Now he could say he got the information from Jerred, protecting his sources on the station.

He twisted in the small capsule, wishing he’d thought to have it stocked with a bottle of his favorite wine.

The wait bored him, and he didn’t like thinking about Jerred and his new mate.

It reminded him just a bit too much of all that was missing in his life.

Chapter Eleven

Giselle leaned up on one arm to look down on Jerred. He slept the sleep of the totally exhausted. His lovemaking the night before had been fierce, as if he needed to pull her inside him and keep her there.

She understood; she felt the same way.

It still amazed her that they were alive and free again. There were so many unanswered questions about him that she longed to ask. It was a bit startling that even after all they’d been through, they still had no more than a temporary arrangement and that neither of them had any hold on the other. If what Josiah had said was true, they never would have anything more than a temporary arrangement.

The thought was almost too horrible to bear—yet she also knew with certainty that she wouldn’t go back. She was glad that Jerred had walked into Manya’s, and glad that he’d fixated on her. She wished things could have progressed more naturally than they had, but still, her life was better with him than without.

She leaned over and kissed his shoulder, enjoying his texture. She let her tongue steal out to lick him. He tasted salty, which made sense. He’d certainly sweated enough the night before.

He stirred and groaned as she rubbed her hands lightly over his chest. Little bumps popped up across his skin. She licked his nipple, lapping at it for moment before pulling away.

He turned toward her, pulling her into the circle of his arms. “I missed you,” he said softly, eyes still closed.

“When?” she asked, gigging. “I’ve been here all night.”

“I missed you while I was in that cell,” he said, his voice serious. “I can’t believe how lonely and sad I was when I couldn’t be with you. I thought I’d never see you again.”

She turned in his arms until her back was against his chest, and then snuggled down into his warmth.

“I felt the same way,” she said softly. “I wouldn’t have left there without you. I couldn’t even imagine it.”

“You should have,” he said. “But I’m selfish enough to be glad that you didn’t.”

They lay quietly together for several minutes, neither speaking. She felt the length of his morning erection against her butt, and for some reason it comforted her. He was all hers, at least for now, and she intended to enjoy every minute of it.

She lifted her leg and rubbed it over the top of his. Her foot twisted so she could caress the back of his calf, and he pressed against her insistently.

His hand stole down her body to the crevice between her legs. He found the little bud of sensation between her legs and pressed against it softly with one finger.

She sighed. “I love it when you do that,” she said. “Don’t stop.”

In answer, he rubbed the tip of one finger back and forth against her as he nuzzled the back of her neck.

Whispers of sensation crawled down along her spine. His hips started to press rhythmically against her butt, the length of his c**k rubbing back and forth between her cheeks. She tightened them and he gave a sigh of pleasure. His fingers dropped from her clit to the opening between her legs and he slid two fingers inside.

She shivered. They went in easily enough, she was drowning in moisture.

“Are you ready for me?” he whispered in her ear. She nodded, not wanting to speak.

He lifted her leg ever so gently, then she felt the head of his penis poised at her opening. He nudged it just a little, just enough to stretch her, then his fingers returned to their slow massage of her clit. That light pressure against her slit was strange, but incredibly tantalizing. She pushed back against him a bit; she wanted more. Instead he held her there, nudging at her without penetrating. Shivers ran through her and the pressure within, already high, grew higher. His fingers started to move faster as he whispered little kisses against the back of her neck.

She pushed back at him again, wanting to feel the slow stretching that came with penetration. He refused to move, although his fingers changed their stroke. Now he ran the rough tips up and down the length of her enlarged clit, each brush sending shudders through her. She was close, but it wasn’t quite enough.

“I need more,” she whispered, “And harder.”

In answer, he pressed hard with his fingers and moved slightly faster. Still, it wasn’t enough. She squirmed against him—this was nothing more than torture disguised as foreplay. She wanted him inside her body, needed him to f**k her. Instead, he simply toyed with her.

The first small shudder moved through her. Still, he wouldn’t give her more. She flirted with the edges of her orgasm, unable to reach it. Not unless he moved faster.




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