WarlordUnarmed (5 page)

“Gale,” he rumbled, swallowing a laugh.

“Use your claws, Warlord,” she coached, her voice high and
thin.

She’s scared for me.
Murad’s chest warmed. He calmly
severed the tendons in the dust vulture’s wings. Blood spurted and feathers
floated to the ground.

The creature tumbled forward, screeching, the impact jarring
both of them, water splashing over feathers and skin. The dust vulture twisted
its head and frantically snapped at Murad’s legs.

“Cursed beast.” He ran his claws over the dust vulture’s
throat and the creature stilled, its blood washed away by the stream.

“Are you hurt?” Gale hurried toward him, her bare feet
flying, her golden curls flowing behind her.

She’s so beautiful.
Murad gazed at her with
admiration, grateful she was his. “I’m well. I can’t say the same for the dust
vulture.” He grinned.

Gale touched his arm, her finger splaying over his skin, her
touch as energizing as the hunt. “You’re well,” she repeated. She gazed at the
dead creature. “And we now have food.”

“Ugh.” Murad made a gagging noise, preferring to eat his
boots than the creature he’d killed. “No. Dust vultures are tough and
tasteless.”

Gale raised her eyebrows. “And our rations aren’t tough and
tasteless?” She gazed back at the field of tall grass. “If we soak the dust
vulture with ground berries, it might be edible.” She smiled, looking so
pleased with herself that he couldn’t disagree.

“I’ll process the dust vulture.” Murad volunteered for that
bloody job. He picked the dead creature up by its limp neck. “Gather ground
berries close to here so I can watch you. Where there’s one dust vulture, there
could be two. “

She peered up at the sky and her eyes widened. “I’ll stay
close,” his cautious female promised, depending upon him, the never-serious
brother to safeguard her.

I will.
Murad plucked a handful of short brown
feathers from the dust vulture’s torso, revealing dark pebbled skin.
I won’t
allow anything to harm her.

Gale arranged the broken communicators on the cracked panel,
assisting Murad with his plan to construct a functioning device from the
pieces. The Warlord worked beside her, reconnecting the escape pod’s homing
device. He clasped the fastening tool she’d taken in his big right hand, his
muscular frame splendidly naked.

“The signal should work now.” Murad set the tool down and
strode to her, a cocky swagger in his gait. “We know it has power.” He grinned,
having shocked himself moments ago on the live wires.

She smiled back, joy bubbling in her chest. “How are your
fingers, hon?”

“Healed.” Murad held up his hands, showing her his
fingertips. The burn had faded. “Chameles heal quickly.” The stained seat
dipped as he sat down and her body slid into his, pressing against warm flesh.
He wrapped his arm around her waist, securing her to him, his musky male scent
flavoring the air.

“Chameles scar.” Gale touched the silver mark on his
forehead, the sole blemish on his handsome face giving him a sexy, roguish
appearance.

“I prefer to think of it as a memento.” Murad caught her
hand and pressed his lips to her fingertips, his flirtatious behavior charming
her. “Which reminds me.” He reached behind her, and his arm brushed against her
side, the casual contact sending tremors down her spine. He revealed a long
brown feather. “This is for your collection.” He presented it to her with a
dramatic flourish.

Gale covered her mouth with her hands, hesitant to accept
his gift, to believe in its promise, the hope attached to the object. “I
couldn’t take your feather.”

“You can and you will.” Murad traced her fingers with the
soft tip. “It’s a memento of our very first dust vulture feast,” he casually
stated as though they’d have many more dust vulture feasts, spending a lifetime
together.

“Thank you.” Gale grasped the feather’s quill carefully,
blinking back tears. Gifts had been rare for orphans such as herself. “I’ll
cherish it always.”

“That’s a touching sentiment, but I’d rather you use it now.
On me.” He fell back onto the seat, pulling her with him, their bodies fitting
together perfectly. “If we break your feather, I’ll retrieve another.”

“You
did
enjoy the dust vulture.” She flicked the
feather over his black eyebrows and glided the tip down his nose. “You sucked
the bones dry.”

“Don’t tell my brothers that.” Murad chuckled, his chest
shaking against her fabric-covered breasts. “I’ve shared my dislike of dust
vulture meat with them in the past and they’ll assume you’ve drugged me.”

“I thought Khan must have drugged Zeta.” Gale swirled the
feather over Murad’s chin. “Love at first sight seemed implausible.” She traced
the vein in his neck.

“And now?” He watched her with lazy eyes, allowing her to
explore his body.

“I don’t believe he drugged her.”

Murad’s eyes widened and she dropped her gaze, knowing she’d
said too much, showed too much, opening herself to pain when he returned her.
He
will return me.
She ran the feather between his pectorals, certain of that
fate, the only outcome she’d ever known.

Murad’s flat male nipples tightened and his cock hardened.
But
he won’t return me today.
She smiled.
Today he wants me.
Gale dipped
the feather into his navel and he inhaled sharply. She swirled, teased,
tormented.

“Lower.” His voice rumbled through her. That single word
dripped with erotic promise, moistening her pussy, Murad touching her without
raising one rough finger.

She brushed the inside of his thighs with the feather and he
growled, the primitive sound exciting Gale. “This
is
lower.” She
laughed, trusting him not to retaliate, to not punish her for being bad.

“You know what I want.” Murad jutted his jaw, a vein lifting
on his forehead.

“This?” Gale flicked the feather between his balls and his
body jerked. “Or this?” She skimmed the tip down his cock head, under his rim,
over his shaft, around the intriguing ridge at his base.

“
Gerel
,” he groaned, his fingers folding into fists,
his toes curling.

I do this to him.
Gale reversed her stroke and his
cock bobbed.
I drive my powerful male into this sexual fervor.
“What do
you want, hon?”

“You.” Murad gazed at her with a gratifying hunger, an open
and reassuring passion. He didn’t move, he never moved, allowing her to control
their fucking, to manage her fear, a fear she no longer had.

Gale took a deep breath and slowly released it.
I can do
this. I have to do this, for me, for Murad, for us.
She set the feather
aside.

“Then why don’t you take me?” She stripped the fabric from
her breasts.

“Are you certain?” Murad’s eyes darkened to the blackness of
space, the endless emotional abyss enthralling her, his desire as addictive as
any drug.

Gale nodded and pulled the ties at her hips loose, removing
the last barrier between them, transferring all the control to him, the man
she…

No.
She met his gaze, shocked.
I can’t love him.

“It’s fine if you say no, Gale. We don’t have to rush this
step.” Murad brushed her hair away from her face, his touch gentle, achingly
reverent. “I can wait.”

He’d wait for a future fuck that might never come.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I can’t wait. Rut with me, Murad.” Gale
pressed her body to his, his hard cock sliding between her thighs.

“I won’t hurt you.” Murad flipped her onto her back and she
gasped, exhilarated by his enthusiasm. “I’ll never hurt you.” He captured her
lips and she opened to him, allowing him into her mouth, his tongue running
over hers, exploring every crevice, stroking, caressing, loving, coaxing a
response from her.

She moaned into Murad’s mouth and gripped the back of his
head, holding him to her, needing more, needing him. He tasted of meat and fire
and ground berries, the feast she’d fixed for him utilizing her knowledge of
exotic cultures, a byproduct of her bounty-hunter role.

Gale cradled his hips between her thighs, welcoming the
arousing weight of his large body, his thick shaft pressing against her pussy
lips. As he ravished her mouth with his tongue, his rhythm sure and steady, Murad
undulated on top of her, rubbing his cock head across her clit, setting off
mini explosions in her pussy.

She slid her hands over his shoulders, his muscles rippling
under her fingertips, and he dragged his lips over her chin, down her neck,
grazing her skin with his teeth, a reminder that he could hurt her if he
wished.

He’d never hurt me.
Gale shivered.
This fierce
male is mine.
She clutched Murad tighter, her hips instinctually moving
with his, fucking without penetration. He rounded his back, mouthing over her
breasts, his lips hard and insistent.

“Please.” She arched, pushing her curves upward, offering
them to him. He circled her right nipple with his tongue as he gazed up at her,
laughter in his dark eyes. “Murad.” Gale wrapped her fingers in his long hair.
“Suck.” She pulled him to her heaving bosoms.

Murad chuckled, his lips vibrating against her breast, the
sensation joyful yet decadent, and he submitted to her demand, inhaling her
curves, drawing her nipple into his hot, wet mouth.

“Yes!” Gale pushed her hips upward, increasing the
delectable pressure on her clit. He drove her back into the seat, pinning her
in place, and she lay helpless under him, restrained as he sucked greedily on
her breast, tugging and releasing, tugging and releasing, the pulse spreading
over her body, reaching her pussy.

Murad swept the flat of his tongue between her breasts and
applied the same delicious suction to her left breast. Need rolled through
Gale, savage and undeniable.

“Fuck me now, Warlord.” She yanked on his hair, unwilling to
wait one moment longer for his cock.

“Behave,
gerel
.” Murad nipped at her skin, the pinch
of his lips heightening her pleasure even more.

“Or what?” She squirmed, rubbing her pussy over his cock,
reaching for her own satisfaction. “Will you punish me?”

“Never,” he declared, his eyes flashing. “Instead of
punishing you, I’d do nothing.” He laved her nipple with the flat of his rough
tongue, prolonging her sexual agony.

“Even…worse,” Gale panted, her thighs trembling. “Murad.”
She was close, so close, and she didn’t want to come alone. She’d spent too
much of her life alone.

“Wait for me, bounty hunter.” He nudged her entrance with
his cock head and she hissed her approval, tilting into him. “Impatient
female.” Murad laughed, pushing forward, stretching her open, his girth
gloriously large.

She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, clinging to him,
his sensual slide slow. He sank deeper and deeper and deeper, their encounters
having ruined her body for any other male. Only Murad could satisfy her now,
only he could fill her.

Her pussy lips touched his ridged base and Gale sighed with
satisfaction, his shaft temporarily easing her need. “My male.” She sucked on
his neck, tasting salt and minerals, a unique combination that was all him.

“Yes, yours.” Murad rocked into her, his chest brushing her
aching nipples, his cock head skimming along her inner walls, his leisurely
fucking fanning the flames of her desire, building a fire inside of her.

She linked her ankles behind him and dug her heels into his
firm ass, forcing him to move faster, thrust harder. He grunted, his lips
flattening, the veins on his neck raising. Their bodies smacked together,
breasts and chest, hips and thighs, heat radiating from the points of contact.

In his arms, she wasn’t the orphan no one kept and the thief
no one trusted. She was beautiful and wanted and perfect. Gale rose into each
thrust, meeting him halfway, as an equal, naked and unburdened, no longer
needing mementoes. All she needed was him, forever.

Skin slapped skin, she panted and he grunted, their primal
mating sounds mixing with the calls of the flying beasts and the hum of the
insects. Sweat trickled down Murad’s chest. She licked that proof of his
exertion, drinking up his desire, savoring every drop.

Murad labored over her, riding her hard, relentlessly
pounding into her pussy, his balls swinging against her ass. Gale shook,
dangling on the sharp edge of fulfillment, her passion primed by his teasing.
She raked his back with her fingernails, driving him faster.

“Murad,” she pleaded, too far gone to articulate what she
wanted, what she required.

“Come for me, Gale.” He reached between them and swept his
coarse thumb over her clit, breaking her into a thousand tiny pieces.

She screamed, bucking upward, curving her body into his, her
pussy clenching and unclenching his shaft. The ridge at his base swelled,
stretching her so much Gale thought she’d split into two, and she tensed,
knowing what was coming, dreading it, needing it.

“Gale,” Murad roared, driving even deeper into her, dousing
her pussy with hard jets of hot cum. She shrieked louder than any creature
she’d heard on Chamele 3, colors exploding before her eyes, another
bone-shaking orgasm yanked from her hapless body.

Gale clawed at his back, bit his shoulder, writhed under
him, his weight not allowing her to escape, his cock lodged inside her. He
shuddered, his hips twitching, and he collapsed, flattening her.

“Bonding with you is addictive,” Murad murmured into her
hair, his chest rising and falling against her breasts, his tanned skin covered
with a sheen of perspiration, his long hair draped over his back.

She blinked, slowly collecting her scattered thoughts, her
tremors easing. “You mean rutting.”

“
That
wasn’t rutting,
gerel
.” Murad chuckled,
rolling to the ground, dragging her with him, their bodies remaining fused
together until his swelling abated. “Rutting isn’t as powerful, as lasting, as
meaningful.” His muscles rippled under her. “Before Chameles bond, rutting can
be done with any female.”

“You won’t rut with any other female,” she growled, the
possessive words slipping out before she could stop them.

“Spoken as a true Warlord’s lady.” Murad laughed again and
her face heated. She pressed her lips together, censoring her retort, painfully
aware that she had no claim on him.

“I can’t rut with any other female.” He rested his hands on
her bare ass, cupping her curves. “We’re bonded, you and I.” Murad kissed her
forehead, the gesture bewilderingly tender. “There will never be another female
for me.”

“You say that, but…”
I can’t believe him, because if I do
and he’s wrong, I won’t survive.
She rested her cheek on his chest,
listening to his heartbeat.

“I know that.” Murad smoothed her curls. “I might not be
serious about much, but I
am
serious about you.” He spoke the words
solemnly as though they were a vow.

Were they a vow?
Gale closed her eyes, a small ember
of hope burning in her heart.

* * * * *

Murad set the refilled water containers on the flattened
grass. Gale lay on the worn escape-pod seat, her eyes closed, her mouth open
and her lush body naked. His cock twitched in appreciation and a joy filled
him, the last three days since regaining consciousness being the happiest in
his life.

He sat beside her and brushed her golden curls away from her
beautiful face, content to watch her sleep, his fifth attempt at piecing
together a working communicator not as important as savoring this peaceful
moment. His scent lingered on her skin, the night spent rutting, bonding their
souls tightly together.

Her eyelashes fluttered, her eyes opened and she stretched,
undulating sensually. “Morning,” Gale murmured. She glanced at the sun high
above them and her eyes widened. “I overslept.”