Rebel Pax (Shifters of the Primus Book 2) (4 page)

I
watch
Pax as his chiseled jaw works at the
Klasan
meat. I inspect my kebab, more than a little leery. I have seen the animals of this planet and decide that I must not try to imagine what a
Klasan
looks like if I’m going to keep the meat down. It’s probably some seven-headed flying snake. I close my eyes and take a bite, tearing the warm meat free with my teeth. I chew tentatively. . .

It’s the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted.

My eyes snap open. “Mm-Good! Th-” I swallow, once again embarrassing myself by talking with my mouth full. “That is. . . It’s just. . .” I stutter, not doing any better of a job expressing myself without food in my mouth. I end up just rubbing my stomach and smiling.

He smirks. I see him look at me in a way I have come to recognize. At first I thought it was predatory, but I think there’s more to it. The same look might mean fear for his enemies, but to me it is beginning to look like something else. It’s the set of his eyes and brow, as if he will not take no for an answer, as if there is nothing, manmade or otherwise that will stand in his way. If Pax fixed that look on an enemy in anger, then I imagine even the strongest Primus would drop his weapon and run. When he turns it on me, I feel something else. I think he has laid some sort of claim to me in his own way. Though he has only shown this in passing moments, I can almost
feel
his willpower making me bend. Or is it that I want him to claim me? Either way, his beautiful lips, the smirk, and the way he’s looking at me are starting to make me forget how terrifying he is.

With the cool breeze blowing through the cave-like tree village and the warm
Klasan
meat in my mouth, I get the urge to do something bold.
What would Lia do?
And before I have time to talk myself out of it, I slide my arm inside the crook of Pax’s, though I have to reach up a little more than I planned, it’s still comfortable.

He looks down at me, face showing no emotion as he chews his kebab, but he does not pull away. I rest my head against his arm and for a long while we just stroll through the village, my worries forgotten as I enjoy the silent strength of Pax and the strange sights of the village. There are small tunnels dug out above our heads to the outside of the tree that provide sunlight. As we go deeper, some sort of purple and blue mushroom that emits its own light is used to brighten the many dark nooks and alleys that lead to homes and businesses.

When I kneel to rub my heel, which is aching, Pax notices and says he needs a break to sit for a while. I know he doesn’t need to rest, but am surprised by his efforts to protect my self-esteem. This man who I thought was just a brute may have more to him than meets the eye. Granted, he could be hiding an even deadlier and more fearsome inner-core, but seeing the hint of consideration he shows me is enough to give me hope. Of what, I don’t quite know.

W
e finish
our
Klasan
kebabs and Mira lays her head on my arm. The past hour has been strange for me. When Primus men want a female, they take her. If the woman is strong enough to resist, they do not. But somehow it is as if I knew that Mira was different. She was not something I could simply take. She was something fragile and precious. If I brought all my strength to bear upon taking her, I think it would break her. And she is too precious to break.

My arm encircles her small frame and I enjoy how small she feels against me. It is her fragility that causes me to burn with an unshakable desire to protect her. And I know that if I want to keep her safe, I must make her mine, even if it is only temporary. But will I be able to let her go once I have felt what it is like to have her?

“Come,” I say. “I will secure us a room for the night.”

We find a place to stay near the center of town. It’s one of the few structures that is free standing and not carved into the tree like the rest. It appears to have been made so large that the roof carved into the tree needed to be raised to make room.

Inside the building, several luminescent species of mushroom cast a purple and red glow. The technology for electrical lighting exists in abundance, but inhabitants of Markul quickly learned that electricity draws the beasts up from The Dead Sea. So habit and common sense have led to a minimalist lifestyle for all but the strong or foolish. I overpay for a room, eliciting nearly the same reaction from the Kolari innkeeper as from the
Klasan
merchant.

Our room is small but contains the necessities. Liandra’s eyes dwell on the single bed for slightly too long. I strip off the pants I wear, now completed naked. She averts her eyes but I see how hard it is for her not to look. I know I am forcing her in a way by displaying myself as I do, but it must be done. She deserves someone kinder who would find another way to keep her safe. Yet she has me. And honor can look the other way for one night while I try to entangle this female, to make her want me as much as I want her.

“We must shower. There are spores in The Dead Sea that multiply in dark, warm places. If we carry any, we will wake up to an army of flesh-eating insects.” I feel a slight stab of guilt, because the majority of what I say is true. But the insects only eat other insects. It would not be a pleasant way to wake, however. I feel worse about what I say next. “There will not be enough water for us to shower separately. You must join me.” There is plenty of water.

Her face turns bright red. “It’s ok. I’ll just. . . Well. When you say flesh-eating. . . That sounds pretty deadly. Are they as bad as they sound?”

I shrug. “You will have your answer by morning if you do not shower. If you survive that long.”

Her mouth gapes. “That bad?”

“Yes. Quite deadly.”

She rubs her shoulder, hugging her arm to herself uncertainly. “Could I just shower in my clothes?” Her eyes dart down to my cock and back to my face. She bites her lip.

I smirk. Seeing her body to react to mine rouses the panther. I feel myself purring, the vibrations running deeply through me. “The spores would persist. You must take off your clothes.”

She seems as if she is about to say more but I see something beneath her embarrassment and reluctance. There is a spark of mischief in the way one corner of her mouth turns up. She wants this. It is only for propriety that she shows reluctance. I could say more to make her feel as though she had even less choice, but I do not. If she joins me and our flesh joins, I want it to be because she wants to so badly that she will go against propriety to have me. The thought of her doing so stiffens my cock.

She notices, shifting on her feet. My powerful nose picks up the scent of her pheromones being released. She is getting wet. I remember the heat of her pussy against me as we climbed the Loris tree. I want to feel it with my own hands, with my mouth, and with my cock. I want her to crave me so deeply that her juices drip from me as I bring her to climax after climax. But not yet. I do not want to spoil this hunt by catching my prey so early.

I
want
to wait for Pax to look away before I undress, but he seems content to continue waiting as well. Finally I summon my courage and strip off my clothes. You wanted to be strong, so take your clothes off in front of a guy. No big deal. Except I immediately have to fight the urge to cover myself. I feel my breasts bounce as I slide my shirt off and the cold air against my wet pussy. I feel uncomfortable but try to fake confidence, hoping I’ll confuse myself and start
being
confident. I stride past him, conscious of his eyes on my bouncing breasts and hardening nipples as I step into the shower.

This isn’t like me. Not at all. Undressing in front of someone I’ve just met. Flirting with him. None of it. But it all gives me a thrill. It’s as if I’m dangling my foot over the edge of a bottomless pit, not sure whether there is solid ground below or water to break my fall. But there’s a freedom in jumping.

He smirks, striding toward me. My eyes find his cock, which isn’t difficult, and it feels like I can’t pull them away. I suddenly wonder how he’s going to fit in the shower beside me with it. It’s so big and long. . . I had planned to just stick to business and get the creepy spores off myself and then hop into bed, but now. . .

He steps into the shower, his erect cock already brushing against my side. He turns the water on and it’s wonderfully warm. Pax grabs some soap and moves behind me. He starts soaping
my
shoulders. I’m about to protest but my mouth isn’t working. I feel the hardness of his cock being pushed to the side by my back. I may not have seen a lot of cocks in my lifetime, but this is the only one I’ve ever
craved
to have inside me. Circular ribs run underneath the skin every inch or so until the head. The shaft is blue, touched with reflective flecks of a brilliant sapphire color.

His strong hands slide across my water-slicked skin. My eyes close and I groan with pure enjoyment. Not only were my muscles tight and sore from the day spent hiking through monster-infested jungles, his vibrating hands are giving me chills. I feel him covering more of my body with each rotation of his soapy hands. He finds my sides, sliding around my chest and ribs, tantalizingly close to my breasts. I think he is about to feel them, and then he works his way back, massaging my lower back until I think he’s going to grab my ass, but he moves away. I feel a sudden urge to reach back and grab his hand and then press it hard against my tits, to push him into me and rock my ass against him, losing all sense of dignity and control. But I
do
have more self control than that, for now. It’s not slutty if
he
is the one doing the dirty work, right? That’s probably not true, but the thought lets me focus on enjoying his touch.

I feel the hard muscle of his chest and stomach push up against my back and his hands slide farther around me, until they trace the crease between my upper thighs and pelvis. His touch makes me quiver against him and a gasp of pleasure escapes me. Am I letting this happen? No, he’s
making
this happen and I don’t have the strength to stop him. I don’t
want
to stop him. . .

He moves his hands up my stomach, torturously slow, until he finally takes the fullness of my breasts in them. The building suspense of whether he would or would not finally bursts. I turn toward him, his cock slipping down with the motion until its head rests between my legs. My hand is on his chest and I forget to breathe. I look up into his eyes. Even in the dim light of the shower I can see his golden eyes sparkling.

He presses his hips into me without breaking my gaze. His cock slides between the lips of my pussy and I moan. I move forward to kiss him but he puts a finger to my chin, holding me back.

“I want all of your focus on my cock between your legs. No distractions.”

I try once again but he doesn’t relent. Instead, he pushes his hips against me in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Each of the ribs on his cock send jolts of pleasure as they slide over my clit. The vibrations of his purring pass into me and make my eyes want to squeeze shut with pleasure, but I keep them open. I look into his face and marvel that someone so perfect is in this moment, fully and completely wrapped up with me. It’s as if our minds are linked in that single place of contact where his skin slides against mine. My focus is white-hot, every nerve bursting with pleasure. And I know that his mind must be focused as well. It’s the closeness that brings me to my first climax.

I tilt my head down into his chest and dig my nails into his flesh but he does not wince against the pain. As the orgasm rips through me, I frantically thrust my hips into him, bearing my weight down and trying to take his length into my opening, but each time I try, he does not let me. I’m too overwhelmed with sensation to care. I moan out loud and then bite down on his nipple to stifle my cries.

He slaps my ass and pushes me away as the last of my orgasm shakes me. I’m about to kneel down and make him cum with my mouth when I hear something loud. It’s muffled and seems to come from the lobby downstairs. Men cry out in loud voices and then something shatters. Many pairs of feet are stomping up the stairs. Heavy pairs of feet.

I look at Pax, my eyes searching his.

“Get dressed. Wait here,” he says.

Pax throws on a pair of tight-fitting leather pants. He glances back and gestures once more for me to stay put. I don’t want him to go toward whoever is out there, but I know we are cornered anyway. Maybe it’s better this way. . .

He steps outside. Through the door-frame, I see him turning to his right. He does not move for a moment, and then he jerks his body to the side, swings his arm out, and I hear a sound like a branch snapping in two. I realize someone tried to stab him and he broke their arm. He’s pushed out of view as a small army of Primus males jostles to attack him. They wear armor and brandish weapons.

“Pax!” I cry out. Maybe he can fight monsters, but how can anyone win against odds like that? I struggle to think of some way to help. When it seems like the last of the men have passed our room, I try as quietly as I can to move into the hallway. My stealth is probably wasted because the sounds of Pax’s struggle to my left are like a thunderstorm in full swing.

I step out of the room and into the hallway, but before I can take two steps, a shadowed figure lurches out from the room across the hall and grabs me. I try to scream but he’s shoving cloth in my mouth.

Something hits me hard over the head and my vision goes black. The man slams the door and throws me hard on the ground.

I hear his voice. It is like thick and raspy. “You shouldn’t be here.”

I spit the cloth from my mouth. I could scream, but there would be no way for Pax to reach me before this man in the shadows could hurt me. Better to wait and hope that Pax returns. I need to buy time.

“Why not?” I ask, wincing as I try to prop myself up. My head is still ringing.

“Because your fucking shuttle crashed into The Dead Sea.” The man moves forward. He’s human, but large for a human. His face is scarred and he has grey in his dark hair. “One of my men said he saw you and some monster of a Primus strolling through this village. I didn’t believe it until I saw it. . .”

“Well, maybe you should start believing. And if you were smart, you’d be putting something together right now. You would be asking, how did
she
survive that? Maybe, just
maybe
, it’s the ‘monster of a Primus’ I am with.”

His eyes dart to the side and he nearly turns to look at the door. He’s starting to make the connection I want him to.

“And. . .” I say slowly. “If he can get me out of The Dead Sea single-handedly and unarmed, what do you think he’s going to do to those men out there? And you, when he finds you?”

He shifts on his feet, clearly unsure. I’m not sure if he’s going to kill me or run. Instead, he kneels and lifts me, wrapping an arm around my neck from behind and pulling me close. I hear his voice in my ear. “If you’re so special, then I’ll just use you to get out of here. Fucking Admiral Gaius. . . Doesn’t pay me enough for this shit.”

As he drags me into the hallway and slowly backs away from the pile of bodies growing around Pax, my mind spins. Gaius? Is that why the missile casing smelled like human? But why would Gaius be working with the Toltek clan. And what the hell would he gain by blowing up the shuttle I was on? No, there was more than that. If it was just blowing up the shuttle that mattered, he wouldn’t send men after me in particular when I learned I survived. What does he want me dead for?

My thoughts are interrupted when Pax turns toward me and my captor. At least ten motionless or nearly motionless bodies are at his feet, and his blue skin is splattered with blood. When he sees us, it’s as if he forgets that there are still several men trying to stab and slash him to pieces. He runs straight through an extended spearpoint, suffering a grisly wound and knocking over the man holding the weapon in the same motion. Spear still in his side, he sprints toward us. He jumps, body stretching. For a moment, I think my eyes are blurring but I realize he shifted.

He’s now a deep blue panther with bright gold eyes. But I don’t have long to admire his shifted form because he flashes over my shoulder, catching my captor between his jaws. I hear grisly sounds behind me but don’t turn to look. Then men at the other end of the hall are coming toward us now. But in his shifted form, Pax brings them quick deaths with several swipes of his massive claws.

When he shifts back, he falls to one knee and grunts, face turning down to inspect the spear in his stomach. He’s naked now but I’m too worried for him to pay attention.

“Oh, Pax. . .”

Seeing the wound gives me a sympathetic stab of agony in my own stomach. Do I really feel so much for him already?

“I will heal. We need to leave if I am to keep you safe.” He stands and rips the spear free of his stomach with a sound that makes my heart wrench for him. He does not cry out and I think it is likely for my benefit that he hides the pain he must be feeling.