Mercenaries (25 page)

“Yeah,” he panted, and pulled out, sliding slickly through her deliciously tight core. “So do you. Hot and slick and submissive . . . Ah! . . . when it suits you.” She yowled in pleasure as he slammed himself all the way to the balls. “Ready for this. Perfect for this. Perfect for me!”

“Oooh, gods! Sebastian!”

So he fucked her like that, driving her closer to climax with every long, demanding thrust. And kept right on fucking her, though he had to order his computer implant to keep him from blowing his load every time he slid deep. He had no intention of coming until he'd claimed her. Completely.

“I'm coming!” she gasped breathlessly.

“No, not yet.” Gritting his teeth, he jerked his shaft out of her deliciously creamy grip, ignoring her wail of protest.

“Don't stop!”

“Sorry, darlin', but you don't get to come yet. Not until you've had your ass stuffed.”

She jerked in instinctive protest, but he was already spreading her delicious, peach-shaped butt to reveal her last virgin orifice. He studied the tight little opening, imagining how it would feel to claim her so completely. Beyond any possibility of denial.

He licked his lips. “Here it comes, Zaria.” Taking his dick in one hand, Sebastian pressed the big head against her anus. For a moment he allowed himself to savor the contrast between his own aching width and her tiny, well-greased pucker.

She whimpered in instinctive anxiety.

God, this was going to be so good.

Then he leaned into her, pressing his cock against her anus until it began slowly, reluctantly to yield. She was just as impossibly tight as he'd expected, and he grinned in sheer, nasty pleasure as he forced his way up her ass a centimeter at a time.

“Mmm,” Sebastian purred in her ear. “You're tiiiight.”

Zaria gasped helplessly as his broad rod slid another blazing fraction deeper. For all her wicked fantasies, she'd never imagined anything like this—being bound and helpless over the back of a chair while her former Thrall skewered her backside. Her rectum burned in protest as it stretched impossibly wide around Sebastian's shaft. “It hurts!” she gasped.

“Oh, I know.” He leaned into her, forcing her to take more and still more of the endless rod. “And you love it.”

She groaned. He was right. She did. She loved being wrapped in cable and spread wide while he impaled her ass. She'd been taken by the ruthless dominant of her dreams, a man intent on using her body without mercy, on wringing savage pleasure from her with every brutal thrust.

“There,” he murmured in her ear at last. “All the way in, right to the balls in my pretty Thralline's tight little butt.” He leaned closer to her ear. “Ready to be fucked?”

“I don't think . . .” she gasped, “you care if I am or not.”

Sebastian laughed. “Well, I
am
the Dom,” he said, and began pulling out.

The retreat of that massive cock brought a wicked pleasure that made her whimper in surprise. At that delighted sound, he began fucking her more quickly.

In. And out. In. And out. Pain and ecstasy surged through her in glittering waves that rolled her inexorably toward climax. Zaria writhed, yanking mindlessly at the cable that bound her as Sebastian rode deep and hard in her butt.

“Oh, yeah,” he growled. “Come while I screw your tight little ass, Zaria. I want to feel you milk my dick.”

His next merciless inward thrust shot her straight into a shuddering climax. “Sebastiiiaaan!!!” she screamed.

ZARIA was coming, coming even as he reamed her. Groaning with pleasure as her inner muscles clamped down on him, Sebastian grabbed her hips in both shaking hands. Pumping savagely as she writhed on his impaling cock, he gasped, “Just so”—thrust—“you know”—thrust—“I'm not letting”—THRUST!—“you go!”

“Sebassstiiaaaaaan!” she screamed again, her inner muscles clamping down on him even tighter as her climax strengthened under the lash of his driving dick. Just as he'd known it would, that sweet, inner milking kicked Sebastian over into his own fiery orgasm. His bellow of raw pleasure blended with her shriek of surrender.

IT was much later before he found the strength to untie her and carry her to bed. Curling around her, he wrapped her in his arms, surrounded her in his warmth.

Zaria, still quivering from the blinding force of their pleasure, was about to drift off to sleep when he spoke. “Marry me.”

The words were a rough command, but the faint tremor of need in his voice gave him away.

Zaria, curled in his arms, lifted her head to meet his eyes. “I have no desire to do anything else.”

“Good,” he said. “I'd never have lasted another month anyway.”

As he dragged her down into a hot, soul-searing kiss, it occurred to her she didn't know what he was talking about.

Then again, she knew there'd be a great deal else she'd have to learn about this new world of his. Yet suddenly, it no longer seemed quite so intimidating.

With Sebastian by her side, she could handle anything.

A
klaxon was screaming, a buzzing howl of warning that made the hair rise on the back of Cassidy Vika's neck. The cockpit was hazed with smoke, and every breath stank of ozone. Sweat rolled, stinging, into Cassidy's eyes, but she couldn't wipe it away with her faceplate closed. And she had no intention of opening it with God knew what burning in the cockpit.

Besides, such distractions were minor. She couldn't afford to divert her attention from the Dharani fighter, or she was dead.

He'd zeroed in on her the moment she took off from the
Starrunner,
his fighter a slim silver stiletto darting against the stars, lit up with the hot blue glow of his jump generators. She'd fired off a shot that almost clipped one of his engines, but he'd juked and the blast went wild.

Then the dogfight was on. Other fighters streamed from the two warships, engaging in dozens of savage battles. Though she saw some of her comrades exploding in fireballs while others blew up their enemies, Cassidy kept her attention focused on the Dharani she fought. Only an idiot would have done anything else. The Tribesmen had a reputation as the deadliest killers in human space.

Cassidy gathered they'd spent a little too long trapped on the wrong side of the Tormod Front, cut off from the rest of humankind. Now that they'd been reunited with humanity, they were intent on building their collective wealth by any means necessary. Including hiring out to the Kalistans in their campaign to conquer New Galveston.

This particular Dharani was certainly a determined bastard. He and Cassidy had chased each other from the
Starrunner
to the Dharani Tribeship and back, looping around New Galveston twice. Fighting every millimeter of the way. Yet no matter how they'd maneuvered, neither had managed to get the other in his sights long enough to get off a good shot.

At least until the Dharani grazed one of her nacelles with a beamer blast, sending all that menacing smoke boiling through her cockpit.

Cassidy had zoomed off then, trying to get room enough to turn the tables, but he'd stuck to her butt like a burrworm. He smelled blood, and if she didn't do something, he was going to get it.

Cassidy glared at the three-dimensional cockpit readouts floating in front of her face. There was far too much red in the systems pane. She needed to either ditch or kill the Dharani before the engines went critical on her.

Her attention was caught by another readout pane, this one showing three globes floating off to starboard—New Galveston's sister planet, Dallas, and its two moons. The former was habitable; there were even a few colony towns there.

An idea made her eyes narrow. With any luck . . .

Cassidy punched it. Gs slammed her back in her seat, pressing hard on her chest as the fighter screamed toward the planet. Dallas swelled in her viewscreen, blue and green, swirling with cotton-white clouds as it grew larger.

The ship's computer suddenly screamed in her com.
“Warning! Enemy weapons lock! Warning!”

Shitpissfuck. She jerked the fighter into a roll. A mental command to the computer, and the ship's rear guns fired off a beamer blast and a burst of sensor chaff designed to confuse the Dharani's weapons.

Didn't work.

Light flared off to starboard. Something banged hard into the fighter. Her roll became an out-of-control tumble. The computer's klaxon howled, “Starboard engine hit! Critical damage!”

Dammit, not the good engine! The other was at half-function as it was.

Grimly Cassidy scanned the sensor readouts. Most of the damage seemed electrical rather than structural. The Tribesman hadn't actually managed to hole her fighter's skin, so it was just possible she could land.
If
she could make it through the atmosphere, and
if
the Dharani didn't get her first.

All in all, she wouldn't bet a bucket of warm spit on her chances.

MAJOR Rune Alrigo felt a savage grin spread across his face as his computer told him he'd damaged the enemy's starboard engine. It appeared the pilot was going to try to land his crippled craft on the planet ahead.

Rune, of course, had no intention of allowing any such thing.

He allowed himself a flicker of regret. The other was a skilled and brilliant warrior who had fought well. Which only made it more imperative that the enemy pilot die. He couldn't be allowed to survive to fight again, or worse, breed more warriors to oppose another generation of Dharani. Despite his admiration, Rune could not afford mercy.

Rune sent a mental order to his combat computer, which in turn shot a command through the fighter's interface. Behind his head, the engines howled in response, vibrating through the cockpit like the screams of the damned. Acceleration smashed him back in his seat as the fighter tore after his enemy. Trid displays shimmered around him, revealing system functioning for his own craft as well as sensor data on the enemy. He monitored them automatically as he piloted his fighter, the vessel responding to the silent orders he sent through his comp.