Текст книги "Heat"

Автор книги: R. Lee Smith

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Текущая страница: 54 (всего у книги 54 страниц)

Her hands clutched at his hair, pulling him even closer as his tongue coaxed her to open. Her cries, unbridled and dazzling with delight, sent flashes of pure sexual pleasure through him like lightning. He teased her with greater passion, greater tenderness, and her fragrant oils filled his senses for reward.

‘All my life,’ he thought dazedly, letting her passion coat his questing tongue. ‘I will have this amazing female for my own all my life.’

She tugged at his hair sharply, guiding him up so that she could pull his clothes away, her eyes glassy with the intensity of her desire. He could think of nothing he had done in his life to deserve such a wondrous, passionate female.

Or her cat, he thought, distractedly eyeing the orange paw that covertly hooked the cooling meat from Tagen’s plate and dragged it beneath the table. “Ah, lucky me,” he said, and pulled Daria with him to the tiled floor. It was cold at first, but not for long. In moments, they were joined together; in moments, there was only the heat of their breath, their blood, their bodies. There was only heat.

Blessed heat.

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Epilogue

The hopper left Jota Prime just after six bells and by seven, it had docked with the prison transport vessel Depahg. The prisoner was transferred shackled and unconscious from one holding bay to the other, and then the ship was underway. They were two hours from the Gate that would bring them to Far Point space when the prisoner finally began to rouse himself awake. His name was Kanetus E’Var and this time, he was caught for real.

He had spent fifty days in a holding cell deep in Jota Prime’s Magistrate Capital, days without either sunlight or stars to comfort him, days measured out by idle scratches on the wall after the receiving of each day’s allotment of food. Days he passed lying on the thin mat provided for his bed, waiting until his interrogators came for him. And they always came. He’d fought every time, but every fight had ended with him in binders and a solid dose of hypnotic swimming in his veins. And then, the questions. The same ones every day.

The Fleet did everything by regulation. It was a joke, one that everyone knew, and it was always as funny the fiftieth time as it was the first. Regulations allotted prisoners a cell just large enough to stand up and lie down fully, and so Kane had one. Regulations provided a bed and one meal per day with adequate nutritional basis to sustain life, and so Kane had it. Regulations allowed for interrogations to be provided under hypnosis through the use of only those serums approved for that use, in specific, the drug endoxis, and so that was what they gave him. And Urak had been giving him endoxis since he was six years old, just in case. A far-thinking man, his father.

It wasn’t hard to sit there in his restraints and stare at the wall. It wasn’t hard to tell them over and over that there was no Gate, he knew of no Gate, his father had been building no Gate. Boring, yes, but not hard. And it only took the regulation fifty days to convince them.

Now he was here, in yet another prison transport ship with the engines thumping in time to his headache, on his way to the last home he’d ever see.

Kane gained his feet slowly, his throat locked against the groans his body demanded. The Fleet used wargu’unal to pacify its prisoners when they were moved. Endoxis was nothing, pleasant even, gave you good dreams. Wargu’unal now, that shit was dangerous.

“Ah, it stirs!” The prison ship’s pilot, a bored-looking veteran, was watching him from the console, grinning hugely. “What a shame. You looked so peaceful lying there. Wouldn’t you say peaceful, Devus?”

“I’d say peaceful.” The co-pilot was fresh, scarcely into his majority, and he looked more scared than anything else, but he managed a mocking grin to impress his pilot. “I’d even say pretty.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Would you now?” the pilot purred. “Well, E’Var, that’s convenient for you, isn’t it?” He ran a lazy eye up and down Kane’s body. “I hear the pretty ones get special attention at Tyuk station.”

Kane rolled his eyes and leaned against the hull since there wasn’t anyplace but the floor to sit. He wasn’t worried about prison, Tyuk or any other. He wasn’t looking forward to it by a damn sight, but he wasn’t worried. He’d find a way to come out on top. Somehow.

‘That’s the stuff,’ Urak said, far back in his mind. ‘E’Var is survival. Never forget where you came from, boy.’

“They say the first time’s the roughest,” the pilot continued, recapturing his sour attention. He was still giving Kane too close a stare. “If you live through it, you ought to come out fine.”

Kane showed his fangs in a humorless smile and dropped his hand to cup his crotch. “Come and get some,” he invited. “Break me in. I feel like fucking.”

The kid recoiled, shooting uneasy glances at his partner, who gazed back at Kane with an expression he no doubt thought concealed his inclination to do exactly that. Prison transporter pilot. The lowest rank in the Fleet, the stair everyone else stepped over. Probably never had a female in his life he hadn’t bought, and judging by the lines time had carved into him, he never would. What was there for him but meager coin for Kevrian sex-houses and the occasional wrestle with shackled trade like Kane?

“Step it up, you stupid slave-fucker,” Kane snarled. “Do you want my ass or not?”

He saw the dull point of rotting teeth as the pilot’s lip curled, but that was all. Kane wanted him to come. Even in shackles, he could kill a man, and once the holding bay’s restraining shield was down, Kane could be through it and digging his claws into the co-pilot’s throat. So let him come. Just let him.

No. The pilot’s eyes had a way of sliding back toward his young partner. He’d never make a move in front of him. In the great ladder of sexual depravity, male rape was right down at the bottom, lower even than the rape of a non-ranking female. At least females were desirable. Raping him in front of his co-pilot would be a blatant admission to the worst kind of deviancy.

Kane snorted and looked up, losing himself in thought as his eyes rested on the ceiling panels. Prison. Shu-ra.

The console sounded a hail, and attention was diverted back to the transporter’s own dead-end jobs. Kane listened in, bitter and disinterested, but bored.

“Carrier 8-33, this is Carrier 6-16. Say again, prison transport vessel Depahg, this is prison transport vessel Sa’anar. Kerner, is that you?”

The pilot thumbed the transmitter, giving Kane a last, black glare. “It’s me. How’s it biting you, Rak?”

The answer was laughter, a great rush of it. “Oh gods, has it ever been biting! I need a favor, Kerner. You headed to Tyuk by any chance?”

“I am.” Kerner showed his fangs to Kane in smirk.

Kane pumped his hips back at him, expressionless.

Kerner’s smile wiped away. He glanced again at his co-pilot, who was oblivious to all as he gave the console the regulation check-over, and then he leaned back in his chair. “You know who I’ve got locked in my bay? Kanetus E’Var.”

“Yeah, great. I need that favor, friend.”

Kerner’s frown was something Kane could feel, even if he couldn’t see it. Then again, when one’s entire reputation was patched together by the notoriety of one’s temporary cargo, having someone brush off a name like Kane’s was bound to sting.

“What favor?”

“I’ve got a man here bound for Tyuk, too. Can you take him in for me?”

Kerner glanced at his co-pilot, who looked positively scandalized by the prospect.

The voice of Rak broke in, laughing nervously. “I wouldn’t ask, friend, truly I wouldn’t, but…there’s a female in it for me.”

Kane could all but feel the ears (and certain other parts) perking up. He snorted again and crossed his arms. A female. They didn’t know what a real female was. The loss of Raven rose up and hit him with the twice the force than the thought of prison had. He could still feel her mouth on him, could still feel her tight cunt taking him in.

The void she left in him was like a fist to the gut. Even if the ghost of his father were to appear right now and wing him magically through space to Earth, he’d never find her again. Even if she were waiting for him, even if she wanted to be found, he could never hope to stumble over her. She was gone, as good as dead. His Raven.

“Can’t be done,” the pilot was saying now, still eyeing his young partner.

“If I turned around right now, I could have half a day with her,” Rak continued urgently. “If I go all the way to Tyuk and back, I’ll lose it all. I’m begging, Kerner.”

“Rules are rules.”

“This is no ordinary female. Gods, if you only knew the things she could do. When was the last time you had a fuck so hot, you screamed out loud?”

“Do prisoners count?” Kane called.

“Shut up,” the pilot grunted.

“She can roll her cunt like the ocean tide,” Rak was saying reverently. “She’ll do anything I ask her. She’ll beg for my cock like it was dipped in D’gren. She knows how to use her mouth to do things you can’t even imagine.”

Kane’s stomach clenched. Raven. His obedient, ferocious little fuck-mate. Her mouth had been like water in the desert, the purest kind of bliss.

“Listen, do this for me,” Rak said. “Gods, Kerner, you’re going there anyway, aren’t you? Just take this piece of nothing with you and…and I’ll introduce you. My female is mad for mating. She’s sick for it. She’ll do whatever I want to get it. She’ll even fuck you.”

Kane glanced up, smiling wryly. That was a damned good hook, and it had Kerner right by the cock.

“We can’t,” the co-pilot whispered.

“Shut up, Devus,” Kerner said, working at the console. “And grow up. Rak, you’re clear to dock, but you better not be feeding me air about this female. If I don’t get a fuck into her, I’m putting one in you.”

The transmitter scratched laughter. Kane couldn’t tell if the unseen Rak believed the old pilot or not. He could hear only the cock-happy giddiness of one who knew he was soon to be thrashing to the hilt in a female’s oils.

“Well, my pretty prisoner.” Kerner stood up laconically and strolled back to wait by the airlock, grinning at Kane. “Looks like we’re both in for a fuck tonight. I’ll be getting cunt. You’ll be playing one.”

Kane flicked his claws at him with contempt. “I’ve had more cunt than you’ve ever seen.”

True things had a way of stabbing deeper than mere insults. Kane saw the old transporter’s eyes narrow, and then he turned away and was grimly silent. Kane showed his teeth in a cold smile. “Tell you what,” he said, “just so you know I don’t take any of this personally, next time you’re spending your pay to a Kevrian—”

Kerner growled, but he was flushing.

“—ask for a couple of females who know how to give a tit rub.” He said the last two words in N’Glish, enunciating carefully for the old pilot’s benefit. “It will eat your mind alive.”

The ship thumped hard and Kerner slapped at the docking controls, securing and pressurizing the airlock. The lights above the console went from green to gold, and then the co-pilot called all-clear to open.

“I’ll tell you what,” Kerner said, punching at the lockpad. “Just so you know there’s no rough feelings, I’ll be sure to send you a feed of me fucking this female. Give you something to look at while you’re—”

The high-pitched whine of blaster fire terminated this promise. Kerner flew back, struck the restraining shield of Kane’s holding cell and there lay staring, his flesh slowly blackening as it cooked in the invisible rays.

Kane straightened up sharply, watching with narrow eyes and no small amount of confusion as a male wearing what looked like a genuine Fleet officer’s uniform marched through the airlock and shot the just-standing co-pilot in the head.

“E’Var,” the stranger said, holstering his weapon with a grin. “I’m glad I caught up with you.”

“Do I know you?” Kane asked, bewildered.

“No.” The stranger laughed and kicked Kerner’s corpse aside so he could unlock Kane’s cell. “But there is someone out there who wants you free very badly. If I were a jealous male, I might be concerned.”

Blaster fire snapped out three times in rapid succession, peppering Rak’s chest, head, and belly.

“You’ve got nothing to be jealous about.”

The words were Jotan. But the voice—

Kane spun in a state of shock and watched the small female step out of the airlock and onto the ship. She lowered her blaster and smiled at him. Her hair was purple, a deep glossy, unreal shade of purple, with locks of white framing her human face. The dark edging at her scalp was gone. She’d found a way to color it fresh after all.

“I belong to Commander Kane,” Raven said.

Kane took two steps toward her before he could reassert his self-control, but Raven came the rest of the way, sparing him the indignity of having to embrace her by falling on her knees before him and kissing his talons.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so sorry. It took me so long. I had to do things—” She raised her head and sent the body of Rak a despairing look before dropping to kiss his talons again. “—but it was for you. I belong to you. Forgive me, Kane.”

He put his hand down and felt that hot leap in his gut as she seized him and sucked deep on one of his fingers. “I’ll think about it,” he said.

“I had to sell some Vahst,” she admitted. Her hand went to his groin; her palm moved in light, small circles. “But I kept all the good stuff. It’s on the other ship. Please say you forgive me, Kane. Please.”

Gods, to hear her begging again.

Kane pulled her to her feet roughly and bit her on the jaw, hard enough to taste her blood, and she moaned and pushed her hips against his. “Am I hurting you?” he growled, his teeth grazing down her slender neck.

“Yes,” she gasped. “I belong to you. Hurt me. Forgive me. I belong to Kane.”

He pushed her chin up and crushed his mouth into hers, forcing her open, drawing her breath inside him. She kissed him back with equal violence, proving once and for all time that she was his Raven. His fine, fierce Raven.

He shoved her away, grinning hard, and caught her wrist in a grip he knew must hurt her as he nipped fondly at her knuckles. “This time,” he said, “let’s give them some wreckage to find.”

THE END

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