Broken Vision Page 12

"Thought you might." He strolled past her to the plexiwall overlooking the same shrub-filled courtyard the great room did. He took up a spread-legged stance and clasped his hands behind his back.

  "I had two delegate visits today. Both demanded two things of me. But sometime in the course of the day, something occurred that made it impossible for me to comply with either demand. You already know what that was, of course.

  "But the questions remain. Who took the children and where are they? If you have any idea, Maegan, it would be best to reveal that information."

  Chills were chasing in waves across her skin although the room was warm enough. Two delegations? "Where was the second delegation from?" she managed to ask. Even to herself, her voice sounded shaky.

  "Where else but Taragon? A delegation of high priests. They were most insistent."

  "How did they know?" she whispered. "They couldn't possibly have traced the relay route. It's...it's just not possible."

  "Curious, isn't it?" Alerik turned. "How did the Taragon delegation know? How did the Coalition Council know?" The natural light behind him blurred his features. "There are several explanations, of course, none of which are pretty, but what everyone, without exception, is most interested in now, Maegan, is where the children are."

  "I don't know." For some reason, Morgon's hidden underground habitat chose that instant to pop up in her mind. If Morgon had taken the children, that would be a logical place to hide them. Alerik's security team still hadn't discovered its existence and the place was well shielded from external sensors. But that secret wasn't hers to reveal.

  "You may not know." Alerik approached her and stopped far too close. "But I think you have ideas. Did it occur to you they might be in danger?"

  Maegan blinked and nodded, then looked away from the intensity of his sapphire gaze. "I don't really think they are," she said quietly. "I...I think Morgon might have them." Morgon, who would do everything in his power to save her from judgment by the Coalition Council. And she might just possibly have betrayed him with her confession. She had betrayed him.

  "Morgon," Alerik repeated. His fingers touched her chin, pressed, turned her face to him. "And you have no idea where he is?"

  "No, I don't."

  He was cupping her chin now, and she was powerless to look away from his hypnotic gaze.

  He studied her face. His gaze deliberately moved over it, and it was as if he physically touched--caressed--each feature.

  "Green Eyes," he murmured, "you are such a liar." His thumb brushed across her lower lip. Sensation, unwelcome and uncontrollable, tingled through her body. "I have until late day tomorrow to produce the youngsters. After that... Who knows? Taragon priests are not known for their patience or passivity."

  "You can't give them back to the priests," she forced out. "You can't."

  "A moot issue, since I don't have them." Again, his thumb brushed her lower lip, a touch that compelled and drew her gaze to his. His eyes were dark, shimmering pools, promise and seduction all mixed together, yet so untrustworthy. For a moment, she gave in to the luxury of wondering what it would be like to be seduced by Alerik, to have his hands touch more than her chin, his thumb brush more than her lip. Perhaps she should just do it. It might quell this odd brew of restlessness and surging urgency. And the intimacy would mean nothing because she wouldn't allow it to.

  His thumb paused in stroking her lip. His eyes flared with a sudden awareness. His body leaned in to barely touch hers, spreading heat and an unbearable tension.

  "Green Eyes," he murmured, "you keep looking at me like that and I won't be responsible for my actions."

  She teetered on the edge. Could she control this? Or would she be completely lost? As she raised a hand to rest it on the solid wall of his chest, she spared a passing thought for how this decision would impact her plans to end the marriage partnership.

  Make it harder certainly. Mariltar marriages were not easily dissolved, especially in the ruling families. But nothing was impossible, and at this moment, as Alerik's groan thrilled her and bound her even closer, even before his other hand slid across her hips, she truly didn't care.

  He rested his forehead against hers as he gathered her closer against his body. His breath, warm and scented with sweet tiug leaf, drifted across her face.

  She closed her eyes and surrendered to her senses and her body's demands. She wanted this. She needed this. There would be a price to pay.

  It could very well destroy her.

  The single insistent refrain beating in the back of her mind to stop this now was shattered as his hand on her lower back urged her tightly against him. There was no doubt what Alerik Mariltar wanted and needed. His other hand found a spot on her nape that collapsed her knees and drowned the last vestige of reason. And so she was malleable and mindless when he angled her head and brought his lips to hers--a light touch, soft and fleeting, a tease, a taste. Then he drew back. In disbelief, she heard herself whimper.

  In the next nanonan, before she had time to draw another breath, he was back and, this time, he devoured.

  His mouth pressed to hers, his tongue slid along the crease, demanding she open. And when she did, heat and sensation invaded her. She was lost. She couldn't possibly stop this from proceeding to the inevitable conclusion. She wanted it too badly. Had wanted it for a long, long time. Ever since he had invaded her life. The future had no place here, filled as it was with a deep uncertainty.

  Committed, she slid her hands over his broad shoulders. She met the thrust of his tongue and pushed against him, reached up and grabbed a thick handful of his hair.

  His mouth left her lips and traveled across her cheek to lightly brush her eyelid, then across to her ear where his tongue began a leisurely exploration of a rim that had suddenly developed an ultra sensitivity.

  Nose buried in his neck, her cheek rubbed against the soft prick of end of day stubble. Those tiny prickles fed and intensified the excitement racing though her body. Everywhere he touched, nerve endings were set ablaze. Then he slid his hand over the curve of her bottom and between her legs and lifted her up against him. His finger, through two layers of clothing pressed on her right there.

  Suspended in air, she clutched at his hair and shoulder to anchor herself, and in what was left of her fragmented thoughts, she wondered if it were possible to have an orgasm on the spot.

  "Too many clothes," he murmured in her ear. "They have to come off." He lowered her to the floor.

  As soon as she steadied herself on her feet, she reached for the flap on his tunic and yanked. She had him bare-chested in nanonans while he stood, arms at his sides, simmering sapphire gaze hooded and focused on her. A thrill of unbearable excitement seized her. She reached for the waistband of his breeches.

  His hand flashed out and closed around her wrist. Disappointed and confused, she instinctively tried to pull back, but he tightened his grip. He held her as he shifted to toe off his half boots and push them aside. He loosened his grip on her wrist, anchored her hand at his waist and let her go.

  Excitement roared back in a heady rush. She stepped a breath closer. Deliberately, she moved her hand down across the thick ridge of him.

  He bared his teeth. Sapphire turned to dark midnight. She squeezed gently. He grunted and narrowed his eyes.

  "Two nans," he ground out.

  "For what?" She stretched up and licked slowly across his lips. Some small part of her was amazed at her boldness. She was playing a dangerous game in more ways than one. She didn't want it to end.

  He seemed to be having difficulty with a response. A groan rumbled from deep in his throat. She licked across his lips again, then paused to draw his lower lip into her mouth. Her hand rubbed at his straining erection.

  "Time's up," he rasped, and it was no warning at all. He grabbed her around her waist and, as if she weighed nothing, bore her in three long strides to the sleeping platform. He tossed her down. When she bounced back up, indignant at having her play interrupted, he pointed a long finger at
her.

  "Stay!"

  He reached for the fastening of his breeches. On her knees, she paused, purpose arrested, and watched in fascination as he jerked open his pants, hooked his thumbs at the waist and stripped them down his legs.

  Her mouth went dry. Her clothes felt three sizes too small and far too heavy for the sudden heat in the room. A tiny thread of reason screamed that there was no way she could walk away from this, emotions intact. No way this could be just a casual sexual encounter that meant nothing.

  He was beautiful. A quintessential, highly aroused, barely controlled male creature.

  An urge to flee overwhelmed her.

  "No," he said. He reached down and cupped his balls, then casually stroked his hand up his penis. "Take off your boots."

  In a daze, she saw her hand dropping her boots over the side of the platform, before she was aware she had even moved to comply with his command.

  He jerked his head. "The rest."

  She hesitated. The clothes were her last defense. Her body wasn't pretty. She was scarred and skinny. But he had already seen all that, and it was clear it didn't matter.

  His eyes narrowed and he growled. She focused on that slow stroking hand and shed her tunic, then the vest underneath. Her torso now bare, she shivered, even though the room still felt unbearably hot.

  The flare of pure predatory awareness in his eyes caused her nipples to tighten and her womb to clench. His hand stilled.

  "Finish," he ground out.

  Her courage wavered. "Lights?" she dared to ask.

  "No." He stepped closer.

  Heat and tension spiraled. She couldn't bear it. Without further thought, she wriggled her pants down over her hips, and stripped them off her legs.

  He knelt beside her, his breath heavy. He curved his hand around her breast, tightened his grip and swiped his thumb across her nipple. Prickles of sensation exploded out from the spot. He no longer looked at her face, but focused intently on her breast. Then his attention shifted. His fingers uncurled. He brushed them across the raw scar on her bicep. His browns drew together and he muttered something she didn't catch.

  In the next nanonan she was on her back, angled across the sleeping platform. His hands swept down her body, across her breasts, across her stomach, over the vee of legs, down her thighs to her ankles. He grasped each ankle and moved her legs far apart, maneuvered himself between them. Spreading his knees, he forced her legs even farther apart, and lowered himself over her.

  With a gentle hand he pushed her hair off her face, and ran a finger across the seam of her lips.

  She closed her eyes. His sapphire gaze was too intense.

  As his finger made its gentle journey again, she opened her lips and sucked it into her mouth. She rasped her tongue across the blunt edge of his nail and discovered a callous near his knuckle. His skin was smooth/rough. His finger, long and thick, filled her mouth. She drew it in farther, sucked harder. She could no longer hold her hands passive at her sides. The urge to feel, to touch was too intense. She smoothed them across his hips. His breath, more labored now, fanned across her face. She didn't dare open her eyes.

  Primitive instinct and aching desire drove her to run her hands down his belly, to find his aroused flesh. He seemed in no hurry now, yet her body burned, begged for completion. She encircled the hard length of him with both hands. When he tried to withdraw his finger from her mouth, she clamped down on it.

  Searing heat enveloped her as he lowered himself to touch chest to breast, groin to groin, trapping her hands between them. He nuzzled under her ear. The scrape of his teeth, against a place she had never paid attention to before, made her arch up against him and release her hold on his finger as her mind drowned in a flood of pleasure.

  He stayed to torment the tender flesh below her ear until she writhed beneath him and was forced to clutch at his hips to anchor herself. Slowly he slid down and positioned himself over her breasts. He seemed fascinated with them and content to thoroughly explore with his hands.

  All the while the tension in her body escalated. His penis lay hot and hard across her thigh. No matter how much hip wiggling she did, she couldn't seem to get herself in the right position.

  When he lowered his head and licked her nipple, she almost surrendered to his lead, the rush of sensation was so intense. In one last desperate attempt, she placed her hands on his chest and shoved. He went over on his back with a surprising lack of resistance.

  She followed, flinging her leg across his hips to straddle him. As she rose above him, a heady euphoria rushed through her veins.

  He watched her through narrowed eyes, compliant for now, as she reached down and slid her hand around his hard length to position him. His entry into her body was not easy. It had been a long time for her, and he was large.

  His brows pinched together as she struggled to force the plump head of his shaft past her tight entrance.

  "Easy, love," he murmured. He palmed his hands over her breasts and then around her back to urge her forward across his chest. "You don't have to do it all yourself. Let me help."

  He drew her face down and touched his lips to hers. It was a gentle exploration that quickly became a possession. He urged her mouth open and slid his tongue against hers, then ravaged her soft contours.

  She sank willingly into the siren call of dizzying pleasure. Senses edgy, she felt him adjust her hips, felt the electrifying touch of his finger against the small bundle of nerves between her legs. He ran his finger around her taut flesh stretched to accommodate the very tip of him. Suddenly he was inside. The friction was pleasure mixed with pain, exquisite, unbearable.

  He withdrew a fraction, and pushed back in with a shallow thrust. She stretched, burned. Pleasure spiraled and she moaned into his mouth. His hand on the back of her head held her as she would have pulled back, overwhelmed by sensation assaulting her body. He repeated the action and, with each thrust, worked his way deeper into her body.

  Fully seated, he no longer held her down. His mouth roamed her face as his hands roamed her body, stroking, caressing, tormenting. He touched places long ago lovers hadn't bothered to touch. She didn't want it to end. Nothing mattered. Not the past. Not the future. Nothing but this moment, this man, this deep, exquisite intimacy.

  It had to end.

  She reared, hands on his chest, pulled herself almost free, then shoved back down. Her body accepted his more easily now. Heated prickles raced up and down her spine.

  She did it again and a deep groan tore from his throat. His hands held her hips loosely. He lay compliant. The rush of power was as heady as the pleasure. She twisted and angled and experimented as her body discovered new pleasure points, but she couldn't quite seem to get there.

  A primitive noise rumbled from his throat. His grip on her hips tightened. In a dizzying rush, she found herself flipped on her back. He reached down and hooked his arms underneath her knees to draw her legs back. She was wide open, vulnerable, at the mercy of his greater strength.

  Her gaze locked with his for a split second. Then she had to close her eyes. She had never seen such an expression on the face of any man before. There was fierce possession and raw passion, but something else shone from the glittering sapphire depths.

  Something that reached out and called to her very soul.

  She couldn't bear it.

  He leaned over, and slid himself slowly and fully into her. Legs draped over his shoulders, her hips were tilted at such an angle it felt like he touched her womb. He drew back just as slowly. She whimpered again, desperate for something more, and tried to grind herself against him. It seemed to break his control. With a tortured groan, he hammered into her, pulled back and did it again. From there, she could only hang on, tossed on waves of pleasure that escalated with each hard thrust.

  Just before she shattered into fragments, she knew with certainty that she was lost.

  Chapter 14

  Margaine Confluence:/ Second Rising

  Pallas Five

>   A stinging smack on her bare bottom jerked Maegan from the most restful, natural sleep she'd had in a long, long time. She opened her eyes and rolled over, automatically reaching for something with which to cover herself. All she could find was a pillow. She dragged it across her torso.

  Alerik stood by the sleeping platform, legs braced apart, arms folded. He was fully dressed in casual tan breeches and pale blue tunic. Not an official duty day in the governor's office, then. She couldn't interpret the guarded expression on his face, but it held no trace of the man who had ravished her body so thoroughly the night before.

  "Ow," she said crossly, for lack of anything better to say.

  The corner of his mouth twitched. "Some women would take that as foreplay and ask for more."

  "Then go play with them and leave me alone." She spotted a corner of the cover draped over the side of the sleeping platform and reached for it. "Pervert," she muttered.

  With both the cover and the pillow in her possession, she felt better protected and dared to look at him again.

  His stance hadn't changed but now his dimples were in evidence. "A liberal wife. How...exhilarating."

  "I'm sure there's a reason for this bullying," she said. "But if you've forgotten what it is, I'd like to go back to sleep."

  "Sorry, not today." With an unexpectedness that left her breathless, he yanked the pillow and cover away from her, and pressed her back against the sleeping platform. "Today," he said, as he loomed over her, "we're going on a voyage of discovery together, at the end of which one of us, at least, is going to be highly enlightened."

  His blue gaze bored into her. She licked suddenly dry lips. His eyelids flickered; his intent expression faltered. He glanced down. Heated breath escaped him in a drawn out hiss. He levered up on one arm and gently stroked a finger across her breast. "Sorry, love. I didn't mean to be so rough."

  She followed his gaze. A pale blue spot bloomed on her flesh. Suddenly, she was acutely aware of a host of aches--good aches--and an unaccustomed stickiness between her legs. She didn't have a clue how to respond.