Braden (6 page)

Braden looked at her with quiet respect. “It was a hell of a
decision to make.”

“Not really. I was a virgin and celibate anyway—my fiancé
had no interest in touching me, nor I him. Taking the robes just made it
official.”

“No.” Braden’s eyes saw too much. “It was a sacrifice. It’s
in you, Elisa…that need for passion.”

Elisa sat still, absorbing his words and thinking about what
she had denied herself. It hadn’t seemed a sacrifice when she’d taken the robes,
a relief, rather. No one could ever use her for her money and family; no man
could expect her to support him while he pursued his disgusting sexual games.

Before she’d met Braden, that’s what sex was—disgusting.

But Braden, sitting beside her, flesh and bone, was anything
but. Sex to him was joy, pleasure, warmth.

Slowly, Elisa moved her hand from her ale glass and rested
it over his.

Braden didn’t move, didn’t speak. Elisa brushed her fingers
across his hand, feeling firm bones and sinew.

“You think it was sacrifice because you are Shareem,” she
said. “I read that your metabolisms are faster than a human’s, and so you must
have intercourse in order to burn off the excess adrenaline. You can’t
not
.”

“That’s true. We fuck or die.”

“So it’s not wrong for you. It’s natural.”

Braden hooked one of his fingers around her forefinger,
capturing it. “It’s not wrong for you either,” he said. “You can make yourself
believe that, but it’s not.”

Take it,
his gaze said.
Touch me, take what you
want and I’ll teach you what you need.

Elisa imagined letting her fingers drift all the way up his
arm and across his chest. She’d dip into the V of his tunic, touching the heat
of his body. She imagined Braden skimming off his tunic to let her better
explore him. Then, daringly, she’d lean down and lick his skin.

It would taste a bit salty, damp with sweat. She’d touch his
nipple with her tongue…

And there her imagination failed, because she had no idea
what he would feel or taste like. Heady, that was for certain.

Even headier to move her fingers down between his legs, to
explore what she’d only read about, a penis rigid under her hand. How would
that
feel?

She knew she shouldn’t be having these feelings, questions
and ideas, not while she was a declared celibate in the Way of the Sky. But
they poured over her, one after another.

Braden watched, eyes fully blue, as though he read her
thoughts. Shareem could sense pheromones and knew when a woman wanted them. And
all women wanted Shareem, all the time.

Elisa drew a quick breath. “My turn for a question.”

“Suit yourself, babe. What?”

She swallowed, reaching for a question that had nothing to
do with sensuality. “What was it like to not have parents?”

His eyes flickered and the blue receded a little. “You go
for the gut, don’t you, sugar? Honest answer. I don’t know. I never knew
anything but DNAmo. Mommy and Daddy were test tubes and a vat. Best human DNA
in the universe, all mixed up to make
us
.”

“Including Bor Nargan DNA, is that right?” Yes, this was
much safer than sexual topics.

He smiled and her libido spiraled again. “Watch it, love.
You’ve already used up your question.”

“It’s part two of the question.”

“Little minx. I’ll answer, but I’ll make you pay. Yes. Bor
Nargan DNA is in me, and doesn’t that make the ruling family squeamish? My
turn.”

She heated, sensing danger. They were right back to
sensuality before he’d even spoken.

“All right,” Elisa made herself say.

“I don’t so much want to ask a question as tell you
something.” Braden rested his arm across the back of her chair again. “It’s a
fantasy. One I’ve been having about you since I met you.”

Chapter Five

She couldn’t let him. She’d die right here if Braden voiced
thoughts that matched her own.

But part of Elisa’s training for celibacy had been
meditation, learning to control not only her body but every thought in her
head. She could let him speak and not listen to the words.

Elisa laid her hands flat on the table and directed her gaze
on the golden ale inside her glass. She let her awareness sink into the glass,
to the color of the liquid, to the little white bubbles hurrying to the
surface.

“Ready?” Braden asked.

Elisa nodded. She wasn’t, but she was determined to get
through it.

Braden’s voice lowered. “You’re in the library.”

The library? Gods help her.

“Up on the balcony,” he said. “I’m below, looking up at you.
While I watch, you suddenly want to take off your clothes. You can’t resist.
You slide your robes to the floor, and you start unclasping your dress.” His
finger brushed the catch of her sheath.

“Presumably, the library is closed,” Elisa said,
determinedly studying the ale.

“It is. We’re the only ones there. The only ones in the
world, it seems like. You’re looking at me, into my eyes.”

The pictures swarmed into her head in spite of Elisa’s
efforts. Braden standing tall and strong below her, arms folded, eyes so blue.
He’d run his tongue slowly across his lower lip, making it moist and enticing.
She’d feel her heart beating faster, her fingers itching to take off her dress,
to show him what she looked like underneath.

“You unclasp the dress and let it open,” Braden said. “It
slides to your hips, and your breasts are exposed. The air feels cool on them,
and your nipples draw into little points.”

They were drawing into little points now. Tight ones.

“I’m watching you, excited, because you’re so beautiful. You
cup your breasts in your hands, lift them to show me. My cock is getting
hard—you see it rising—but I make myself wait. You rub your thumbs over your
nipples and it’s like fire going through you.”

Elisa made a noise in her throat.
Yes, fire.

“You’re wet between your legs. Your come is hot, and you
love it. You spread your legs a little and feel the liquid trickle down the
inside of your thigh.”

Like it’s doing now.
Elisa tried to draw another
breath, tried to stop the heat, but it wouldn’t go away.

“I watch you, and I want to run up there and be with you,
want to feel that heat all over me. You moan and your come keeps flowing. I
love watching you, and I want you so much.”

“Yes,” Elisa whispered, her eyes closing. So much for her
focus on the ale.

“You peel off the rest of your dress. You’re naked now,
standing on the balcony above me. You move forward and rub yourself on the
railing. It presses your clit, feels so damn good, that cold bar against your
hot pussy. You keep rubbing. You’re getting the railing all wet.”

“No,” Elisa moaned. “Celibate.”

“I haven’t touched you. You haven’t touched me. Nothing but
that railing. But it’s not enough. You put her hand between your legs, and it’s
so wet there. You feel yourself, soaked with wetness, your clit a hard little
nub. You want to rub it, don’t you?”

“
Yes
.”

“You rub your clit for me. You stroke your fingers into your
vagina, deeper, deeper. You need to go so deep, so hard to make yourself feel
better. One finger isn’t enough, neither is two. Three is just right. You feel
your own walls squeezing you as you rock on your hand. You tease your clit with
your thumb. You pinch your sweet nipples, one after the other, then again, all
the while you press into yourself and rub that wanting clit.”

Goddess, make it stop!
Elisa rocked on the stool,
eyes closed, while the clit in question burned. But she couldn’t put her hand
there to ease the ache. That wasn’t allowed.

“I’m standing below, still watching you,” Braden said, his
voice like velvet in her ear. “My cock is so hard now, and so long. You see how
much I want you, and you want me to fuck you. But I can’t go to you. All I can
do is stroke myself, while you stroke your own pussy. You pretend it’s me
inside you, not your fingers.”

Elisa’s cleft clenched, moisture flowing. She gripped the
table.

Braden leaned so close that his lips touched her ear as he
spoke. “That’s it, little darlin’. You think of my tongue on you, hot and wet.
I want to taste your skin, swallow your come, rub my tongue all over your
pussy. You want my tongue going in and out of you, lapping you up.”

“Stop,” she whispered.

“No, baby. You keep rubbing yourself, and I’m aching for
you, dying for you. I stroke my cock, my fist hard on it. I start to come,
crying your name.
Elisa.
Then my come spreads all over my hand. You see
that, my wanting for you, and then
you
come.”

“Yes.”

“You press your clit, you feel it burning you.” Braden’s
breath scalded her. “You squeeze, and squeeze, and
squeeze
.”

“Yes!” Elisa shouted the word. She pressed her thighs
together, rocking on the stool while waves of darkness drowned her. She was
dizzy, her cries incoherent, and her clit was hot.

Braden cradled her, his big arm around her, his voice
soothing. “That’s it. That’s good, love.”

Elisa pressed her legs together, more, more, loving the
fiery sensation and the loss of control. This was wrong, this was forbidden,
and it felt so
good
.

“You’re all right,” Braden said. “Hush now.”

He was so warm, smelled fine. He gathered her to him as she
rode out the climax, nuzzling her cheek and kissing her hair.

Elisa curled against him, tears on her face as her body
shuddered.

Outside, the brutal sand slapped the worn metal doors,
desperate to get in. But inside, snug in Braden’s arms, Elisa had never felt so
safe and cared for in all her life.

Braden told Elisa that she was all right, but
he
wasn’t. He’d brought her off with words alone, something only level ones did,
but Braden was heating up, needing release. That would involve hands or tongues
or devices or…

Shut the fuck up.

Elisa’s head rested on his shoulder, her hair soft beneath
his lips. “You shouldn’t have been able to get through my meditation,” she
said.

“Your meditation got you all relaxed, and your mind and body
took you where you wanted to go.”

Maybe. His explanation sounded good, but right now Braden
didn’t give a flying fuck how it had happened. He only cared that it
had
happened and that she’d looked so beautiful with her eyes closed, face soft
with pleasure, moaning as she rocked on the stool.

“You didn’t even touch me,” she said.

Nope. They’d done all that without skin meeting skin.

But now Braden’s cock was tighter than any cock should be,
and his level-three instincts were swiftly rising. He wanted to take her to the
library right now, spread her against the railing and tie her there, and then
spank her sweet ass. With his hand, with a paddle. He’d pleasure her with a
vibrator for a while, then he’d slide his desperate cock inside her hot, wet
pussy, and it would be so, so, good.

Too bad the lady he was fantasizing about was a declared
celibate. He smothered a groan. The world was a shitty place.

Elisa raised her head. “Are you all right?”

“Sure. Fine. I’ll live.”

Another fantasy reared its head—Elisa and him in the train
car in which they’d ridden down here, her kneeling in front of him to take his
cock in her mouth.

Oh gods.

“You don’t look all right,” Elisa said, still holding onto
the table. “I know Shareem aren’t allowed to touch a lady in a sexual way
without permission. It triggers your pain sensors. Is that what’s happening?
Even though you didn’t touch me?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”
Or maybe I’m just dying for you.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Anything you do will just hurt more, sweet baby. You
fingering the table has me about to explode. I’m imagining those fingers on my
cock, sweet and warm.”

She stilled. “You are?”

“Yes, baby. You’re torturing me.”

Elisa let go of the table. “How does this torture you? I’m
not touching you.”

“You got that right. Now, if you
touch
me, you might
ease the pain.”

“How?”

Braden was sweating. “Just touch my face. Don’t be afraid.
Please
.”

Her eyes flickered at his plea. Would she help him or turn
frigid and flee?

What he’d done a moment ago—brought her off, even with
fantasy alone—was a legitimate reason for her to run to the patrollers. Braden
would spend his last hours locked in a cell with transparent walls, unable to
release, which would probably kill him faster than the patrollers could.

Elisa lifted her hand. Soft fingertips touched his cheek and
Braden closed his eyes. “Thank you.”

“That helps?”

“A little.”

Elisa traced his cheekbone, her touch cool on his hot skin.

“I still want you,” he said in a low voice. “And I know I
can’t have you. So now I want to spank your pretty ass for teasing me.”

Elisa jerked her hand away. “Spank?”

Braden opened his eyes, which he knew must be molten blue.
“I’m level three, love. It’s what we do. A little discipline never hurt
anyone.”

“Discipline?” She looked startled but not afraid. Curious,
instead.

“I’d love to teach you. And instruct you how to touch me.
Spank you when you get it wrong.” Braden was sweating, breathing ragged.

“I’m hurting you again,” she said in concern.

“A little, sweetheart. But it’s a good hurt.”

Which would get worse until he released.
We fuck or die.

Braden wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed
when Judith came noisily in through the door that led to her private stairs.
“Sandstorm’s over,” she said.

The gritty slaps on the door had ceased, and Braden hadn’t
even noticed.