Rebel Pax (Shifters of the Primus Book 2) (7 page)

P
ax breaks
the kiss and I hug him again tightly. But there’s no time to dwell here.“We need to get to Toltek territory and stop his plan from succeeding. And I know a way to get us there fast.”

Half an hour later, we’re shakily taking off from the port in a stolen shuttle. I feel guilty stealing Barsa’s shuttle, but it’s the only one I have a set of keys for and I know he’ll understand whenever I get a chance to explain. I can’t help thinking of Aria and how she’s alone with those old seamstresses, probably bored out of her mind. And it’s all because I left her to fly the mission that got me tangled up in this mess.

I glance over at Pax and do a double take. He’s reaching beneath his seat and fiddling with controls. His hand is about to pull the ejection strap.

“Don’t pull that!” I scream. “That will smash you into the ceiling if the upper hatch isn’t opened.

Pax freezes. He sits back in his chair, clutching the armrest, eyebrows drawn as if in pain. The look reminds me of when he was fighting to stay in his Primus form before the beast attacked us.

“Oh no. . . Are you shifting again? What’s wrong?” I ask.

“No. It’s—flying. Creatures are not meant to fly without wings.”

I pause for a second, not fully comprehending at first. And then I grin widely. “You mean
Pax
, the exiled king who fights monsters with his bare hands, is afraid of flying?”

He straightens. “I am not afraid. I am only cautious. My strength will be no use to you if we fall from the sky in this… thing.”

I grin even wider. “You know, you don’t have to be invincible for me. I mean, you basically
are.
But it’s okay if that armor of your has one or two holes in it.”

He relaxes a little bit, and I see a look in his eyes that I have never seen before. It’s almost vulnerable, not quite, but as close to looking vulnerable as he can manage with that chiseled face and powerful body. As usual, he wears no shirt, and the perfect smoothness of his skin calls to me. Of course, I can’t do anything about it if I don’t want to crash the ship, but I mentally make a checklist of the things I
will
do the next time I have a chance.

I feel the blood rush to my cheeks as a torrent of ideas pour through my mind. When did I become so dirty? Maybe I still have some reservations about how we will get along when we’re not
constantly in a life or death situation, but I have no doubts that we have formed a connection. And I still feel something else. Something beyond words and deeper than lust or passion. I get flashes of insight and images, as if our minds have begun forming some kind of tether.

How else would I know he was jumping from the platform to save me back on the surface? How would I have known there was a child growing in my belly? How else could I explain that if there wasn’t something going on?

Even now, I sense something from him. It’s as if a dark, corrupted bubble is rising to the surface of his mind. And I think I know that he is ready to talk about what has haunted him—what made him exile himself and follow a path of self-destruction.

“You know you can tell me anything,” I say, steering the shuttle around a large tree. “You talk about protecting me, but you’re going to have to let me help you sometimes. That’s what I can do. I can share those burdens. And I know something is weighing you down. . .”

“There is a great shame in my past. . .” says Pax after a long silence. “Something I hoped to never tell you.”

My heartbeat quickens. If he is shouldering a painful burden, I want to take some of the weight for him,
all
of the weight.

“The reason I renounced my status as king and cast myself into exile was—”

It feels like the floor goes out from under me. There’s a tearing sound and a percussive blast as an explosion rocks the shuttle. I look at the rear cameras and see Gaius’ shuttle following close behind. A soldier with a rocket launcher dangles out one of the side-doors and is readying another missile.

I try to bank left, but the controls are unresponsive. We’re taking a nose-dive and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

Before I have time to panic, Pax rips me and my seat from the floor of the shuttle and runs us through the nearest door. His powerful charge buckles the door outward and we are falling. Wind screams in my ears and branches zip past as we plummet.

Seconds later, I hear the explosion of our shuttle colliding with a nearby tree. A wave of heat washes over us and I sense something very large and sharp spiral just past my head. Pax holds me and my pilot’s chair in one arm and his other hand—which has grown furry and large with sharp claws—to dig into the nearest tree and slow us. Using just the one hand and his feet, he climbs nearly twenty feet until we reach a nest of branches to rest upon. He rips me free of my harness and I fall from the seat to my knees, shaking.

“Is it you or me?” I ask when I’ve finally caught my breath.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean—” I duck as a fragment of the ship flies overhead. I stand, brushing dirt from my pants, even though the gesture is useless. “I mean one of us must be cursed. Ever since I met you, it’s just one thing after another.”

He shrugs. “Great strength draws great adversity.”

I roll my eyes. “So it’s your fault then.”

“I was talking about you,” he says, reaching down to help me up.

The words hit me like an electric shock. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been in my big sister’s shadow. I’ve wanted to be as strong as her. I’ve wanted people to respect me the way they have come to respect her. I’ve
wanted
it, but never really believed it would happen. Pax cannot know how much I craved those words. And somehow I know he means them too. In that single moment, looking up into his beautiful golden eyes and at his outstretched hand, I know that I am hopelessly his. Even if it seems like the entire world is crashing down around us and trying to keep us from being together, I know that there’s no way I would rather spend another minute of my life doing anything but being with him. Even if it means a violent end. But the thing that troubles him is still creating a rift between us, and I know it must be healed for him to truly be happy with me.

He helps me up and I wrap my arms around him, crying into the hard muscle of his stomach. I’m overwhelmed by relief, happiness, joy, and a mixture of less pleasant emotions that all fight for release. Each wave of sobs feels as though it is expelling years of frustration and anger at being unfairly judged. It’s as if those four words were some sort of key to unlock the hurt that I’ve been holding inside, beyond even my own reach.

When the sobs have faded to sniffles, I laugh softly into him. “You know. I hope you weren’t planning on ever getting rid of me. Because you’re always talking about how I’m yours and
Mr. Manly Alien is going to protect small human
, but you’re
mine
. And you’re not getting rid of me. I don’t care how big you are. So you’re going to have to deal with it.”

I intended to make him laugh, but my words have an entirely different effect on him. His eyes narrow, and I see the heat of passion in them.

I am overcome by a sudden urge to please him—to prove to him that he needs no other woman. That he never needs to think about anyone else. I want him to know that as long as he lives, I will be at his side, ready to make him happy. And I’m surprised to realize that being strong
for
him is enough. I can feel it in my heart. If I could just have him and be his, it would be enough.

My hands find his chest, the smooth blue skin is hard beneath my fingertips. I meet his eyes, dragging one finger down to his nipple. His hands explore me, finding my hips and ass. I smirk and then stand on my tip-toes to bite his nipple. At first, I only wanted to nibble it playfully, but a deeper lust overcomes me. I suck on his skin, pinching it between my teeth and kissing it. He begins purring. It’s not a soft sound—it’s deep and low, like rocks rumbling beneath a landslide. I slip my hand around his back, running my fingers over the ripples and cuts of his muscles.

Distantly, I know that we’re being reckless. Gaius and his men are probably looking for us right now. But no, they probably think we’re dead. . . The thought eases my mind and trails away.

His cock stiffens against me. I turn around and bend over a still-warm piece of wreckage, arching my back and looking over my shoulder. I watch him for a moment as he looks at my ass, smirking with a cocky confidence. He move toward me, undoing the straps on his leather pants and pulling them down. I see his full erection come free and take a moment to admire it. It’s long and thick, perfectly shaped and blue as the rest of him. His powerful legs are carved with muscles upon muscles and I bite my lip as I watch them flex and retract while he walks toward me, cock jolting slightly with each step.

He is as perfect as a statue. More perfect. No sculptor could think to chisel the bold lines of his face. No artist could capture the danger in his eyes or the burning lust they now hold. And though I trust him completely, knowing he would never do anything to hurt me or let harm come to me, I still feel danger about him. Because I know he is not completely tame, as if a more primal side of him lurks just beneath the surface. To my surprise, the danger thrills me. My panties are already wet by the time he reaches me, anticipating him
taking
me. And I want to be taken. Claimed.

He tears my pants down roughly and I feel the cold air against my skin. He pauses, taking in the sight of me and I feel no shame in it. Instead, I feel pride in his gaze. To be the focus of his lust is all that I want in this moment. But to urge him on, I arch my back even more, pressing my ass and pussy toward him. I expect to feel his cock but instead I feel his mouth on the back of my thigh. His lips and mouth are so warm they are almost hot. The temperature makes my nerves all the more sensitive to his touch.

He kisses his way up my legs, moving his hands across my body until he finds my breasts beneath my shirt. He cups them as his mouth finds the lips of my pussy. I gasp, involuntarily pushing myself against him and forcing his tongue into my opening. The sudden pleasure makes me moan again, losing all sense of dignity. I reach behind me and press his head deeper, wanting my taste to fill his mouth and his tongue to fill me.

He hasn’t even touched my clit but I feel like I might cum already. His tongue is impossibly nimble and it glides along the outside of my pussy, slipping along the crevasse before plunging further into my opening than should be possible. He is pressing against my G-spot with his vibrating tongue, pushing and circling until I am spasming against his mouth, my ass pressed to his face so hard I’m not sure he can breathe.

“I’m going to—yeah—you’re making me—” I pant.

And then he stops. He stands, flips me over roughly, and then pulls me by my legs toward him until his cock rests on the rounded flesh of my mound. His eyes are like golden fire, but his lips curve with a barely perceptible smirk. “I will make you cum,” says Pax. “I will fuck you until you cum all over me and my cock, but only under one condition.”

I rock my hips upward, begging for him to fill me, eyes squeezed shut against the
need
I feel. “Anything.” I say.

“Beg me.”

“Please…” I breathe.

“I want you to make me believe that you will not live another minute unless my cock is inside you.”

“Please.
Fuck
me,” I say, the word feeling strange as it comes from my mouth. I’ve never had the dirty mouth that my sister has, but just uttering the word sends a fresh thrill through me. “I want you to fuck me so hard that I can’t think. I want every inch of you inside me.
Please,”
I say.

He nods, his smirk growing. “As you wish.”

Without using his hands, he guides his cock into me. I’m so wet that it slides in immediately. He does not thrust himself in me all at once, but each movement of his hips presses his cock deeper into me than my pussy is ready for. At first I wince with the pain of it, wanting to tell him to go slowly but needing to be filled too badly to stop him. Slowly, the pain becomes confused, like touching something so cold it’s hot. And in a rush of euphoria, each stab of pain becomes indistinguishable from pleasure. I know that he is in control, and that he controls the pain and the pleasure. But the knowledge does not scare me. It thrills me.

“Fuck me,” I say again, moaning as the words leave my mouth. “Oh my God. I didn’t know—it...could...feel...so—oh...good,”

He pumps his cock into me, finding a rhythm as my pussy finally gets used to his full length. More than anything, knowing that someone
so
masculine is finding pleasure in my body drives me over the edge. His shoulders are so wide that they blot out most of the skyline as he straddles me, hips pounding against me again and again with wet slapping sounds. We’re both sweating now and the juices from my pussy are everywhere. I can smell the sex, his scent mingled with mine and the aroma drives me wild, bringing something bestial within me to the surface, making me rock my hips into him violently, desperately craving his cock.

He’s breathing heavy now, not from exertion but from pleasure. His hand grips my breast tightly and I wince at first but the pain only intensifies my ecstasy. I bite my lip hard, eyes squeezed shut as I hump against him as quickly and as hard as I can.

He growls, increasing his pace. I think it’s my words that are pushing him closer so I don’t stop. “I want your beautiful cock inside me. I want you to fill me in every hole,” I pant. With a jolt, I realize what I just said and see the look of an idea forming in Pax’s mind. He doesn’t delay in flipping me over on my back and bending to put his mouth against my asshole. I fight the urge to pull away, feeling self conscious as his tongue explores me. For the first few seconds, I blush so deeply and feel so uncomfortable that I think I might cry. But I also am afraid to stop Pax at this point. He is so full of lust and power that I don’t know if I
could.

Except… Once the shyness of my exposure fades, the sensation is… wonderful. And then he moves back, pressing his cock against my asshole. I instinctively tense, but he pushes gently against my lower back, forcing me to relax as I kneel on my knees with my elbows supporting my upper body. I look back at him, eyes wide and frightened, cheeks burning crimson.