Pursued Page 11
Keep me healthy. Meaning he’ll have to touch me—to feed the tumor inside him. The tumor that just happens to be me. “About that.” Elise cleared her throat. “I, uh, feel fine. I think you, um, touched me enough during our ride back to Earth. So you don’t…don’t need to do it—to touch me, I mean—anymore.”
“Oh, yeah? That your expert medical opinion?” Merrick raised his eyebrows at her, frowning.
Elise lifted her chin. “I just think that in light of the fact that the feelings we’ve both been experiencing have proved to be, um, false, we should keep…keep contact to a minimum.”
“Fine.” He shrugged as though unconcerned and looked back at the viewscreen. “Have it your way. But if you don’t want to touch during the day, then you’re sharing my bed at night.”
“What?” Elise looked at him, uncertain of what she’d heard. “What did you say?”
“I said we’re going to be sleeping together,” he growled. “Whether you like it or not. Sylvan says that a prolonged period of physical contact at night might help you get by with less during the day. So deal with it.”
Elise felt panic rising in her throat. “Together…in bed?”
“That’s what I said.” He gave her a level look. “You know, while you were recuperating in the med station, you actually wanted me to climb in bed with you. Remember that?”
“Of course I do!” Elise snapped, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. “But that was before—”
“Before we found out the bond was fake. Right,” he growled.
But that wasn’t what she’d been going to say at all. Before I remembered, she thought, biting her lip. Before I remembered who I am. Before I remembered about the vault…
“It’s fine,” she said stiffly. “If Dr. Sylvan thinks it’s necessary then I’ll deal with it. After all, we’re both adults here.”
“Exactly.” Merrick nodded stiffly. “There doesn’t have to be anything to it but me giving you what you need.”
What I need is you! Elise wanted to shout. But she didn’t need him, not really. It was just the artificial bond telling her she wanted him so badly, tricking her into believing she would die if he didn’t hold her and call her ‘baby’ in that deep, gravelly voice of his. I have to concentrate on James, she told herself desperately. On how much I love him, on how wonderful our life together is going to be.
As their little ship aimed for the deep red gash in the fabric of space which she supposed was the ‘fold’, she closed her eyes and tried remembering how she’d first met her fiancé, two years ago.
It had been on the steps of the Tampa courthouse. Elise had been rushing to get to court and James had been leaving at the same time. Neither had been looking where they were going and they’d run headlong into each other, sending legal briefs and data chips everywhere. Honestly, it was like some kind of scene from a movie—the meet-cute where the heroine falls into the hero’s lap but fails to recognize, at first, what a great guy he is.
After they’d gotten everything sorted out, James had asked her for coffee. Elise had refused, telling him she was late for court. She’d left him standing on the steps, a bemused expression on his handsome face. Later, after a long and harrowing case, she’d been surprised to see him waiting for her when she got out of the courtroom.
“I thought we could try this again,” he’d said, with that disarming British charm which had first attracted her to him. “I’m James. Would you care for a cup of coffee?”
That time Elise had accepted and then somehow they had begun dating regularly. After she found out who James was, she was surprised he didn’t already have a girlfriend. But he explained that he was very picky—which was flattering, of course, since he had evidently decided to pick her.
Finally, after a year of dating, during which he was remarkably patient when she refused to have sex, James had asked her to marry him. Elise was reasonably sure he’d run a pretty thorough background check on her before he asked, but apparently he hadn’t found anything he didn’t like. And so the ring had come out after a late dinner at Three Tables and he’d even gotten down on one knee.
The ring, Elise thought with a start. She realized she hadn’t even thought of it once since she’d woken up on the Kindred Mother Ship with Merrick bending over her. Where was it? Oh, right—she’d left it at home on that fateful day she’d decided to take a quick trip to Sarasota, where the AllFather had captured her. Elise supposed that it was a good thing it was safe. It was a seven carat, pink oval-cut diamond which had been in James’ family for generations. If she’d lost it, her future mother-in-law would have had a fit. But strangely, she didn’t miss its heavy weight on her finger. It had always seemed too large to her somehow, as though it was weighing her down. Which, she supposed, was why she’d decided to slip it off and leave it at home that day.
Stop thinking about the damn ring, she told herself, trying to get back on point. Think of James. Remember how much you love him…
But for some reason, even though she’d seen him recently, her fiancé’s face was blurred in her vision. Instead of his smooth, handsome face she saw Merrick’s scarred, scowling visage. Instead of his cultured accent she heard Merrick’s low, growling tones, making the sound of rocks rubbing together at the bottom of a riverbed. Suddenly she realized she was hearing his voice because he was talking to her.
“We’re through the fold. You’re awfully quiet over there,” he murmured and she looked up to see he was watching her from the corner of his eye. “Feeling okay?”
“Fine,” she said stiffly, though to be honest, her stomach was a bit queasy, and she was beginning to regret the chocolate cupcake she’d had with Olivia and her friends. “I’m…just fine.” She tried not to look at him while she talked, tried not to notice his warm, masculine, fur and musk scent that drifted to her in the small, enclosed area. The urge to reach out and touch him was so strong she had to curl her hands into fists in her lap to keep from doing it. I have to get away from here. From him. I’m too weak to deal with this now, she thought. “We seem to be flying pretty smoothly now,” she said, trying to keep her voice light and even. “May I be excused to go to the back of the ship, please?”
“That’s very fucking polite of you. Just can’t wait to get away, huh?” He frowned.
“I just want to lie down for awhile,” Elise said, which was true. “I…I’m tired.”
“Tired or hungry?” he said and she knew he wasn’t talking about a desire for food.
“Just tired,” she said defensively. “It’s been a very tiring day.”
He sighed and ran a hand over his shaved head. “Yeah. You got that fucking right. Fine, go lie down. I’ll be there in a little while.”
Elise felt her heart jump and had to work to keep her face blank. “Should I lie down on my bed or…or yours, then?” she asked in a slightly choked voice. “I mean, since we’ll be…be sleeping together. Or sleeping next to each other, I guess I should say,” she added quickly. “That would be more accurate.”
“Don’t worry.” Merrick gave her a long, level look. “I knew what you meant the first time. And I’m not going to do anything you don’t want, Elise. Give me some credit.”
“Fine.” She nodded stiffly. “So which bed? Yours or mine?”
“Mine is bigger.” He turned his eyes back to the viewscreen. “Probably be more comfortable.”
“Probably,” Elise agreed faintly. She knew Merrick was just trying to give her what her body needed, but she couldn’t help feeling deeply uncomfortable, just the same. Part of her—a deep part she thought she’d buried for good—longed for his big body against hers, and not just because of the hunger. But there was another part that was scared to death. An unburied body from deep in the vault screaming that she needed to be careful or something terrible might happen. ‘Just lie back,’—that was what he said, it whispered nastily in her ear. ‘It won’t hurt. You might even enjoy it.’ Except it did hurt, didn’t it? It never stopped hurting. Over and ove
r and—
No—no, I won’t think of that! I won’t! Elise told herself desperately. Besides, Merrick would never…that’s not what this is about.
What is it about, then? asked the voice of memory. What do you think he’s getting out of this?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. He’s giving to me because he doesn’t want me to be in pain even though I’ve hurt him. But I can’t take so much from him. Not when I’m just a parasite—a mosquito dying for a sip of his blood. I have to hold back, have to keep myself separate, apart from him, as much as I can.
So I’ll just take the bare minimum, Elise decided. It wouldn’t be fair to take more, to ask anything else of him. I’ll have as little physical contact as I can with Merrick—just enough to keep the hunger at bay, no more.
With that decision made, she felt an uneasy kind of relief. Deep inside, she knew her reasoning was flawed, but it was much easier to pretend she was limiting her contact with Merrick for the noble reason of not burdening him with her needs than it was to admit the truth about her past. She opened the vault for no one—not her friends or herself—not even James. And she wasn’t about topry it open for Merrick either, no matter what she felt—or thought she felt—for him.
Besides, all these feelings are still just coming from the artificial bond between us, she reminded herself. That didn’t feel quite true either, but Elise didn’t care. She just wanted to be left alone. To let the hidden bodies stay hidden and never, ever, under any circumstances disturb them.
“Hey…” Merrick’s deep voice roused her from her reverie. “You sure you're okay?"
“I’m just tired,” Elise said, as she had before. She unbuckled herself from the too-large harness and stood on shaky legs. Her stomach was suddenly in knots, the hunger coursing through her system and making her feel ravenous. Yet she knew if she went back to the kitchen and tried to eat, she would only throw whatever it was she ate up again. The only cure for her was the huge, scarred Kindred slouched in the captain’s chair of this small craft, his mismatched eyes trained on the control panel, his big hands and long fingers wrapped around the steering yoke. God, how she yearned to have those hands wrapped around her body instead, touching her, stroking her…but no, that was the hunger talking. And even if the disease hadn’t been manipulating her emotions, she still wouldn’t dare to act on those impulses. Wouldn’t dare to let herself feel those feelings, acknowledge those needs…
“Elise?” he asked and she shook her head, trying to get rid of all the confusing thoughts.
“I’m going to bed,” she said. “I…I guess I’ll see you later.”
Merrick said something in return but she didn’t catch it. She was already moving toward the back of the ship, a mass of conflicted emotions in female form.
Chapter Ten
“I can’t stop seeing it—seeing him. Oh, Goddess, Rast! Y’dex was horrible and I hated him with all my heart but to see him in that state…” Nadiah sank down on her side of the bed and buried her head in her hands. “Horrible,” she whispered. “So horrible…”
“Oh, sweetheart…” Rast sank down beside her, feeling helpless. The bed shifted gently and deliberately beneath him, supporting his weight in a way that had freaked him out at first. He was more or less used to it now, though. The semi-sentient sand which filled the silky mattress cover put any memory-foam or support-gel sleep-system he’d ever tried to shame. It seemed to sense exactly what he needed at any given time and know exactly how to provide it—a talent Rast was currently wishing he had regarding his new wife.
His first impulse was to pull her into his arms and try to comfort her that way. Nadiah came willingly enough, nestling close with her head against his chest, but it was clear she was still suffering. Rast’s second impulse was to wrap her in his wings and try to heal her that way. But he was pretty sure the wings were only good for physical ailments, not emotional ones. The words of an old song went through his head, How do you heal a broken heart?
Rast didn’t know. He held Nadiah close and kissed her shining, blonde hair, feeling helpless to ease her pain. “Sweetheart,” he murmured, stroking her back. “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”
She snuggled closer and Rast could feel the soft crush of her breasts beneath the tharp she wore, which was in the form of a white priestess robe. He could smell her sweet, feminine fragrance filling his senses and feel her tight nipples rubbing against his chest. God, how he wanted her! He shifted uncomfortably as his shaft grew hard in the tight pants he had on. Along with the high black boots he wore, they were part of his Councilor outfit. This isn’t the time or the place, he reminded himself. Nadiah needs comfort, not sex.
“Can’t sex be comforting?” he heard Nadiah ask, and realized she’d heard him through the link all married Kindred share with their wives.
“Sorry,” Rast said out loud, shifting again. “Look, I didn’t mean…I know this isn’t the time or the place. I just…I pretty much always want you. No matter what the circumstances are or how damn inappropriate it is. I just…want you,” he ended lamely.
“I want you too.” Nadiah looked up at him, her deep blue-green eyes blazing intently into his. “I want you to take me, Rast. To make me forget.” She pressed closer to him and kissed him, a sweet, hungry kiss that made his heart race and his cock stiffen even more in the uncomfortable pants. At least he didn’t have to wear any shirt…the wings that had grown during his transformation precluded one.
“Take me, Rast,” she whispered through their link. “Take me as you never have before—make it…make it hard and good and most of all, thorough. Wipe that horrible picture out of my mind and replace it with something else. Please!”
“Nadiah? Sweetheart?” he said uncertainly, breaking the kiss. “Are you…sure about this?”
Slowly, she nodded. “I’ve never been more sure about anything. Please, Rast, I…I need to feel you inside me. Take me.”
He couldn’t help thinking how beautiful she was, in this moment of need and determination. Couldn’t help seeing how her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright and her lips red from their kiss. Not to mention the way one thin strap of her tharp had fallen down, baring the full curve and ripe pink point of her left breast. Suddenly, he wanted her—wanted her fiercely and so badly he thought he would die if he didn’t have her.
In the past, there had been nothing but tenderness between them, but Rast wanted something different now, something that went beyond tenderness and deep into passion. He sensed that Nadiah wanted it too. She wanted—no, needed—something different. Something to take her mind off the ugliness they’d just seen and put her in a totally different headspace.
Rast wanted to give it to her but at the same time he didn’t want to hurt or frighten her. Nadiah had been a virgin when they first came together and she was still quite innocent in many ways. Up until now their lovemaking had always been extremely gentle, face-to-face, filled with whispered words of caring and encouragement. So how—
Suddenly, he knew. Knew how he could take her mind off her ex-fiance’s horrible death and give her pleasure without going too far or getting too extreme. A little something new, that was all they needed. Something Nadiah had never experienced before.
“Turn over,” he said, letting his voice sink to a low, commanding growl. “Turn over and get on your hands and knees.”
“What?” Nadiah looked at him, obviously a little unsure.
“You heard me.” Rast cupped her chin firmly and frowned into her eyes. “Do as I told you. Turn over.”
Trembling a little, Nadiah did as he insisted, getting onto her hands and knees in the middle of the bed. The thin fabric of the tharp showed Rast a clear view of her breasts in silhouette, hanging like ripe fruit, waiting to be plucked. He felt his cock surge again—God she was beautiful! Sometimes he still couldn’t believe she was his. It was that feeling of disbelief, of being the luckiest man in the universe as much as his desire for her that made him want to mark her again and again and again,
to fill her with his cock and his cum and make her his forever.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice hoarse with desire. “So absolutely gorgeous.” He ran both hands over her back, the dip of her hips, the curve of her ass, and felt her shiver against him.
“Rast…please. I need—”
“I know what you need. And believe me, I’m going to give it to you, sweetheart,” he told her sternly. “Now let’s just make this…go away.” As he spoke, he stroked the tharp which parted obediently under his hand and fell away, leaving Nadiah completely naked.
“Rast!” she gasped, half turning but he shook his head and put a hand on her lower back, holding her in place.
“Stay just like you are. I’m not nearly done with you yet, sweetheart.”
“But…what are you going to do?” Nadiah objected.
Rast didn’t answer with words. He shucked off his too-tight pants and boots, getting naked himself. Then, kneeling behind her, he covered her slender body with his own, much larger one. He felt Nadiah shiver beneath him as he pressed his chest to her back. The thick shaft of his cock pressed against the cleft of her buttocks, and she moaned softly in the back of her throat.
“Rast,” she whispered. “I don’t understand. We’ve never…never done anything like this before.”
“I know,” he murmured, leaning forward to nip her ear. “Does it frighten you?”
“A…a little,” she admitted softly.
Rast shifted against her, pressing his cock harder against her ass. He cupped her breasts and twisted her nipples, making her moan. “And does it excite you?” he growled.