Alien Intent (Captured by Aliens Book 3) (13 page)

“No. It
was good.”

He
grunted, nipped her neck. “Only good? I demand another round.”

She
laughed and pushed him off until she could sit up and look at him. “What if we
just made a baby?” she asked, trying to be serious and allay her fears.

He
watched her, keeping his face neutral. “It is why you are here. Why you’ve all
been brought here.”

“That’s
tap dancing around the issue if ever I heard it. Is it…I mean…does it bother
you we aren’t the same…race?”

Dar
frowned at the question. “I do not understand. We are genetically compatible,
though we come from different planets.”

She
sighed, feeling a sense of relief she hadn’t realized had even been an issue
for her. The lack of preconceived notions about her was so foreign it didn’t
feel real.

Dar sat
up on the bed with the satin sheet around his waist. “You’ve asked me a question,
and I have one for you. Were you to have the chance to return home, would you
go, or would you stay here on this planet?”

She
perked up. “I can go home?”

His
frown deepened, and he stood to collect his clothes. “That is not what I said.
Would you return to your world if you had the chance?”

Jasmine
stood and pulled her clothes on. “I…I don’t know. What is there to stay here
for?”

His
shoulders slumped, and anger warred with sadness in his eyes. “I have failed,”
he said.

“The riders
have recorded the same message in three other desecrated temples. We brought
our scholars to translate the inscription,” Prince Dezec Zeta said, standing
beside his wife, Princess Adrienne. Both were dressed for the ball happening
mere rooms away from them, a garnet shimmering gown for her and a dark grey
suit for him.

“And
their findings?” Dar asked, his hands clasped behind his back. It was an officers’
ball, so he’d dressed in his regal best—a high collared black uniform trimmed
in dark silver thread and pleated across the front. The uniform made his
shoulders look unnaturally large and his waist and hips narrow. He’d always
disliked the thick padding and high, squared collar, but it was a centuries old
tradition for his division. Other divisions had more manageable uniforms.

“You
were close in your translation of the message, but one mark off. It read ‘they
come’, not ‘we come’. Easily misread.”

Dar
lifted a brow. “Who are they if not the ones who left the message?”

“My
question exactly. Perhaps it is a warning for us, and they could do little
more.”

“Not
much of one.”

“I need
to see to our guests,” Princess Adrienne interrupted. “I trust you found
success with your mission?” she asked Dar as she moved to leave.

His jaw
tightened. “I fear not. When asked a direct question of remaining here, she
could not say definitively that she would stay.”

She
arched her brows, exchanging a look with her husband before returning her
unreadable gaze to him. “I see. Well, you are free of your obligation. There
are others who may do better,” she said. She waved good-bye and left the men.

The idea
of another taking his place made a sickness punch him in the gut. He swallowed,
choking the sensation back down.

“You do
not like her decision, do you?” Prince Zeta said, scrubbing his jaw. “She does
this for the good of our people. She’s wholly embraced our culture, as one must
to stay here and retain loyalty.”

“Yes,”
he said tightly. “But the other matter, the desecration and message…”

“I
suspect a rogue of the elder race, but it is mere speculation. There simply
isn’t enough information available. The king has been notified of our findings.
I thought you would appreciate knowing your work led to this discovery. We have
some time to prepare for any eventuality. Our thanks to you.”

Dar
bowed. “I was only performing my duties.”

Dezec
Zeta stepped forward and motioned for Dar to walk beside him. Two guards pulled
the ornate double doors open to allow them to pass unheeded through the
doorway. Beyond, the music and voices of hundreds echoed clearly through the
marbled room. “Let us see if your lady’s mind can be changed before my princess
can reach her.”

***

The
noise level inside the ballroom reached an intensity that could make a
watermelon explode. Jasmine swore she’d seen a few of the yellow and green
melons decorating the long buffet do just that—or perhaps it was only bottles
of wine. She had yet to see Dar, and already her head was hurting and she just
wanted to run back to her room. Four men paraded an enormous platter with a
roasted beast that looked remarkably similar to the one Dar had slain earlier.
How just if that was the case, that they would eat the creature trying to eat
them.

She
smiled to herself, amused, and wished she could share the joke with Dar.

Samara
sat at their table with her arms crossed, glaring at any man that felt brave
enough to come close. Cyndy was dancing and twirling, shaking her dress as if
attending a salsa. Jasmine thought she’d probably drunk too much wine and not
eaten enough, but that was Cyndy’s business.

None of
the men could dance, but they put forth a valiant effort. It wasn’t a surprise
really, considering they’d only had themselves for company—given the shortage
of women. In fact, thinking about them dancing with each other put an image in
her head that made her laugh. She covered her mouth as she giggled, and caught
the eye of one of the attendees. He smiled and made a beeline for her.

She
recognized him—Jerik Warsong.

Samara
groaned when he stopped at their table. “You’re like a bad penny, you just keep
turning up.”

“My
intentions are towards your cousin, madam. I crave a dance with you.” He
offered his hand.

Jasmine
shrugged at her cousin and stood, taking Jerik’s hand. He spun her onto the
floor. “I thought you could use rescue,” he said, placing a hand on her waist
and lifting her right hand in the air as he led her in the dance.

He was
handsome—not her type, but clean cut and muscular. His eyes were the most
striking, holding her enthralled when she’d normally look away. “You’re
probably right. Samara wants to bring me down. She hates this. Said this is for
snobs or some such. It’s funny because when we first got here she was ready to
make the best of it. I’ve seen a few men hanging after her, but she won’t let
them come near. I guess the claws have been out since I went missing and she
forgot to put them back away.”

“I had
the displeasure of feeling her wrath,” he said with a chuckle. He held her tighter.

“Mmmhmm.”

“Perhaps
she poses too much of a challenge for the others.”

“That’s
their problem if they can’t handle a woman,” she said.

“Many of
these officers have never held a woman in their arms. I suspect they thought
seduction would be easier.” His hand slipped lower, teasing the top of her
buttocks.

Jasmine
stiffened her spine and pulled his hand back up, giving him a glare. “Don’t get
fresh with me. Just cause we’re dancing doesn’t mean you get to touch the
goodies.”

“An
unmatched and beautiful woman is hard to resist. You forgive a brief
transgression?” He grinned, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. She felt he
wasn’t truly interested in her. Above them, the roof opened to the moons. The
ballroom darkened briefly, and then the moonlight caught on mirrors lining the
circular opening and shafted down on the dance floor. On the perimeter,
recessed lights added a softened yellow glow to the room. She couldn’t
appreciate the beauty, however. Her mind was troubled in spite of attempts to
make a setting for an evening of romance.

“Who
said she was unmatched?” Dar questioned, halting their dance. Jerik released
her at once.

She felt
guilty with no good reason why. “Dar,” she whispered, her stomach and chest
clenching, making her feel breathless and antsy.

Jerik
raised his hands in surrender with a humorless laugh. “She’s all yours—I was
keeping her warm for you. We have no quarrel.”

“Good,”
Dar said tightly, taking Jasmine into his arms. He promptly stepped on her
foot. “My apologies. You look lovely in this dress. I thought it would suit
you.” His voice dropped and he whispered in her ear, “I’m looking forward to
removing it.”

She chuckled. “You would.
What is it? I’ve never seen fabric like this before. I couldn’t believe it when
I opened the box and saw this inside. It took my breath away.” When she’d
opened the box, all she’d seen was a dark orange fabric, but as it caught the
light it seemed to shimmer with red fibers making it sparkle with a fire, like
diamonds. She’d been so dumbfounded she’d been afraid to try it on. He touched
the single strap that held it up on one shoulder. The loose bodice clung to her
torso and breasts like a glove, and the full skirt swirled around her hips. She
felt like an Egyptian goddess.

“It is
made from the silk of the fire wyrm, from the desert of fire—many days from
here and collected at great peril. It is a rare material for an even rarer
woman. Some believe the scarlet sands the wyrm dwells in are responsible for
its beauty.”

“Sounds
expensive.”

“Hmmm,”
he said, breathing in her scent. “I love that you’ve worn your hair loose. It
makes you look wanton and wild.”

“Ouch.
You’d do better at this dancing if you’d concentrate on your feet more than
me,” she said, trying without much success to dance with him.

“I
confess to know nothing of dancing. I only try to mimic Jerik. My intentions
are to get you to a private table as soon as possible.”

She
laughed again. “Let’s go. My feet will thank you. This isn’t really my speed
anyway.”

He led
her to the perimeter of the room, weaving through the crowd. Small rounded
alcoves were carved into the walls, closed off with thick velvet curtains and
decked with a wide bench that formed a half circle inside. A small table set
with two wine glasses and a crystal decanter of purple fluid, and rolled fabric
napkins and tableware, was centered near the bench. Dar pulled her into the
alcove and dropped the curtain as she sat on the bench. He remained standing,
pouring them both wine, and watched as she sipped her glass before joining her
on the bench. He set his glass down and pulled her onto his lap.

She
planted her hands on his chest. “What are you doing?”

He
grasped the nape of her neck, dragging her close for a kiss. The touch of his
mouth on hers awakened a hunger deep inside. Try as she might, she couldn’t
assuage the gnawing desire for him. She clung to his shoulders, pushing her
tongue into his mouth. The wine tasted like raspberries, tart and sweet,
mingling with the lush taste of him that was like no other. He groaned and
suckled her tongue, warring with her and rubbing his hands down her bare back.
The rough scrape of his hands on her skin elicited tiny shivers to skate down
her spine.

Her
libido roared to life, making her belly clench as desire speared her core.
Dragging his mouth from hers, he nibbled to her ear. “Straddle me. I know there
is nothing beneath this gown.” As he spoke, he worked a hand down and unleashed
his erection, pushing his fly open enough to keep from making a mess on his
pants.

Already
she was breathing heavily. She glanced at the curtain, gently moving in the air
but still closed. The thought of being caught set her nerves on edge,
heightening her arousal. “Let’s be fast,” she whispered, swinging a leg on each
side of him and hitching her dress up to protect it.

He
gripped her hips, lifting her above his cock. “I’ll take as much time as I
wish,” he growled and hauled her down onto him.

Jasmine
bit her lip, fighting back a scream as her wet pussy ate every hard inch. He
bit the column of her throat, wrapping one hand beneath her dress to grab her
ass while the other wedged down to rough her clit.

“Ride
me,” he mumbled against her throat, digging his fingers against her firm
backside.

Gripping
his shoulders, she flexed her belly, grinding herself against him. He fought to
rub her clit, but soon gave up and caught her ass in both hands, forcing her
down hard on top of him over and over again. A quickening flutter made her
insides melt and spasm. She didn’t have to struggle long to reach orgasm—it hit
her hard and hot, lighting her nerve endings in an explosion of pleasure.
Jasmine bit his shoulder, stifling her moans so no one could hear her blissful
cries.

Dar
shuddered beneath her, coming deep inside. She knew she’d just repeated the
same mistake again, and yet she couldn’t deny that it had felt right. She sat
holding him inside, as if that would prolong the pleasure just a little longer.

He
rubbed her back, easing her off of him with sweet kisses. He grabbed a napkin
and used the soft fabric to clean her and then himself. She watched him as he
did it, marveling at the careful, tender gesture. He kissed her again, but soft
and gentle. A thrilling warmth spread inside.

“We
probably shouldn’t have done that,” she murmured against his mouth.

He drew
back, looking down at her with crinkles at the corners of his eyes. “Why not?
If a child should come, would it be so bad? It is nothing to fear.” He caressed
her cheek then touched the loose curls around her shoulders. “I would want a
girl to have your skin and this hair that sometimes grows towards the sun like
a wildflower.”

Jasmine
laughed. “It’s sometimes the bane of my existence.”

“You are
a gem of unequaled beauty. If a babe did not share this beauty, I would be deeply
angered.”

She
swatted him. “Now you’re being silly.”

He
grinned, showing her that dimple in one cheek that charmed the hell out of her.
“I’ll go get us something to eat. You can wash up in the restroom if you wish.
Just wait a moment. I don’t want anyone getting ideas about what we were doing
in here,” he said. “This was a moment for us alone.”

She
nodded and watched him go. The curtain dropped behind him, and she counted to
twenty before standing and straightening her dress. As she moved to lift the
curtain and leave, she heard voices on the other side.

“Have
any luck, Jerik?” a man said, speaking loudly over the background noise.

“No.
I’ve no idea why they think ordering us to seduce these women will have any
bearing on whether they stay or go. I don’t wish to speak ill of those in
charge, but at times, they leave me with a bad taste. Tagnon may do better. I
haven’t the patience for this mission.”