Beth and the Barbarian Page 4

  Despite the power of his earlier release, his cock was really throbbing now and he adjusted it again, trying to decide how he was going to make it through the next few days without a constant erection. Finally, deciding that it was impossible, he cursed himself as a fool, and went to check on the auto-pilot. Everything was proceeding correctly, so he plugged the Serigali log disk in and started on the analysis. He tried to concentrate on the task at hand but his ears kept listening for the san door to open. As soon as the faint click reached his ears, he spun his chair around.

  She stood in the doorway, flushed and glowing and gorgeous. Her hair had dried to a silky, pale gold cloud and he clenched his hands to suppress the urge to bury his fingers in it. The pale pink top and panties had obviously been washed but they were still slightly damp and clung to every curve, her ripe nipples thrusting against the fabric and tightening under his gaze. Her cheeks flamed delightfully and she gave him that seductive, innocent look that turned him to stone. His hands clenched the arm rests as her gaze drifted down his body, lingering a little too long on his groin.

  “Aren’t you going to take a shower?” she asked innocently. “Or is that uniform permanently attached?”

  His lips curved, but she was right. Standing under a flood of hot liquid might help to release some of the tension he felt. While he debated, she moved over to the bunk and began straightening the covers. The sight of her delectable ass bent across the mattress almost caused a groan to escape his lips and suggested another advantage to the privacy of the san. He made it as far as the door before the problem hit him. He was too big to remove his clothes in the tiny compartment.

  He looked over at Beth. She was curled in one corner of the now neatly made bunk watching him curiously. He was pretty sure that she had already realized his dilemma and when one brow rose mockingly, he was convinced. Damn it. Nudity was a part of Sardoran culture and he shouldn’t have been so uncomfortable, but no one had seen him completely naked since he had received his scars. He hated to see her recoil from the ugly sight, but perhaps that was the answer. Perhaps that would convince her that her foolish desire for him was unfounded.

  Despite his decision, he had to force his fingers not to tremble as he unbuttoned his vest. Letting it slide off was harder than marching into battle. He didn’t know what he expected to see in her face—pity? revulsion? —but her eyes only softened and a curious sense of relief diminished his nervousness. Sliding off his pants was much easier since only a few of his scars extended below the waist. This time her eyes widened and her small tongue flicked across her lips. His cock jerked at the sight and her plump, pink lips parted. It was too much and he plunged into the san with more haste than grace, turning the shower on and fisting his cock at the same time. A few desperate strokes and he came hard, shuddering against the wall, but he could already tell that it wasn’t going to help. He wasn’t going to be satisfied until he released his seed into the hot tight depths of her soft little body.

  By the time he emerged from the san, he was feeling more composed and his shaft had finally subsided—at least temporarily. He looked for his uniform but it was no longer on the floor. Instead Beth handed him his loincloth with another of her seductive smiles. The brief leather garment was standard attire for warrior training and all he usually wore on board ship since the recycled engine heat kept the temperature pleasantly high during the day shifts. He looked at the small piece of leather and then down at his scarred body and finally shrugged. If she could take it, he could. He fastened the cloth around his waist and looked at her. She licked her lips and flashed him another smile.

  “Now what do we do?”

  Fighting down the impulse to give her very specific instructions, he turned back to his control chair. Behind him he heard her gasp and he froze. He had never thought the scars on his back were as bad as those on his front—his torturers had preferred to see his face while they worked on him—but perhaps he was wrong. Her fingers touched his skin and he shuddered but she only traced them along his clan mark.

  “So that’s what it is.”

  “What it is?” Greatly relieved that her gasp had not indicated anything more, he turned to face her.

  “The painting—the gray abstract—it’s the same as these markings.”

  “My clan mark?”

  “If you mean the tattoo on your back, yes.”

  At her nod, he walked over to one of the storage compartments and pulled out the paintings.

  “You brought them? Oh thank you.” Her arms circled his waist and he absently returned the hug, staring down at the image in his hand. The softness and the swirling colors had confused him but now that he took a closer look, the resemblance was obvious. Not only did the painting reveal a clan mark, it was his clan mark—right down to the twisted lines where his scars intersected the intricate design.

  “How did you do this?” His tone was harsh and she stepped back. He kept a gentle grip on her arm but she refused to look at him, twisting her fingers nervously.

  “I don’t know. I…I just have these images in my head.” She looked at the paintings. “These started haunting me about six years ago.”

  Six years? That was right about the time he had been Outcast. How could she have known? It was almost inconceivable except that he was holding the proof in his hands. He stared at Beth, noticing that she was studiously avoiding his eyes. There was something she wasn’t telling him.

  For a fleeting second he considered the possibility that she was somehow involved in the terrible events on Trillium but rapidly discarded the idea. All of his instincts shouted that she was just as innocent as she appeared. While he needed to know what she was concealing from him, he wasn’t concerned that her secrets composed a threat to him or to Sardor.

  “I also brought these.”

  He handed her the sketchbook and charcoal. A delighted smile lit up her entire face and he realized that even if she had been a Serigali spy, it wouldn’t have made the slightest difference to him.

  Chapter Five

  Beth curled in the corner of the bunk, her fingers moving easily over the page of her sketch book as she watched the tall figure in the command chair, and enjoyed the view of his hard, male body. She was so glad that she had rooted through his possessions and found the leather loincloth. Not only was it ridiculously sexy, it left all those rippling muscles in plain view, including most of an unbelievably impressive ass. Her nipples peaked and she tried to force her thoughts in another direction. Her pussy had been throbbing almost constantly since this morning and she wanted him with an intensity that appalled Rational Beth. Rational Beth argued that he was entirely too big—and he probably was—but her pussy didn’t seem to care. She was inclined to side with her pussy.

  Unfortunately, no matter what she wanted, he obviously had himself under firm control. Despite her teasing glances and casual touches, he wouldn’t let her near enough for any serious seducing. If it wasn’t for the fact that he had kept that impressive erection all day, she would have been seriously discouraged. However, with such an amazing reward in store, she was just going to have to find a way through his defenses.

  The only time she had really been close to him had been during their meal. He had shown her how to reconstitute the dried food—which turned out to be surprisingly edible—and she had made lunch. A retractable table came up out of the floor and they sat next to each other on the bunk while they ate. He was telling her about his plan to take her to Sardor Two and she was listening without any great degree of enthusiasm. A new planet sounded exciting and even his rather stark description made her long for her paints. But…

  “Are you going to be there?” she interrupted.

  He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Occasionally.”

  Dragar started telling her about his Chief’s mate and, while she was interested in meeting another human female, especially one mated to a Sardoran, she couldn’t repress a pang of jealousy. He obviously liked the other human. She knew it was childish but the more he ta
lked, the more desolate she felt. He was going to abandon her on a strange planet with strange people while he went off god knows where—probably to get laid after all the time he had spent refusing her. A tear crept silently down her cheek.

  He sighed and lifted her into his lap. “Don’t cry, little one.”

  She curled into the warm, hard strength of his body, immediately feeling better, and he cuddled her close as he explained that his people were moving to the new planet because Sardor’s core was unstable and the planet was disintegrating.

  “Why occasionally?” she interrupted again.

  “What?”

  “If your people are transitioning to the new planet, why aren’t you going with them?”

  “There have been incidents,” he said slowly. “It seems likely that someone has targeted Sardorans for extinction.” The idea sent a chill down her spine. “I have been tracking the last incident, trying to uncover who was behind it.”

  “And have you?”

  “No. It’s a shadow game and the only clue so far has been an extremely unpleasant assassin who is now dead. Fortunately, he was rather memorable.”

  “But, why you?”

  “Why me, what?”

  “Why are you the one traipsing through the galaxy and tracking him down?”

  His fingers stopped stroking her hair and she felt him stiffen.

  “Perhaps it’s the best place for me to be.” His words were casual but she could hear the pain behind them. Sitting up, she put her arms around his neck and softly brushed his lips with her own. Groaning, he responded by pulling her closer and deepening the kiss until her head was spinning and her nipples were swollen and ripe. She could feel the heat of his erection beneath her butt and she couldn’t help wiggling against it. As much as she enjoyed the feeling, Beth didn’t want him to push her away, so as soon as he tensed, she raised her mouth and snuggled back down into his arms. After a very long second, he relaxed and started stroking her hair again.

  He was telling her about Jakkar and Anna when he tensed again. Confused, she looked up at him and saw that his gaze was focused on her hand. Without realizing it, she had been stroking his scars while she listened to him, following the twisted lines with a gentle finger. She knew he was sensitive about them but they didn’t bother her. The idea that someone had inflicted such pain on him was appalling but the resulting marks were not ugly. They had a certain primitive beauty and showed the strength it had taken to live through what had happened to him. She opened her mouth to ask him about them but before she could speak, he gently but firmly removed her hand from his chest and placed her back on the bunk. He hadn’t spoken for the rest of the meal.

  Now she closed her sketchbook, rose and stretched. His eyes followed her and she added a little extra sensuality to her movements before moving close to his chair to study the timer. It was nothing like the clocks she knew but he had explained that time on the ship was divided into three increments, one for sleeping and two for activity. The end of the second shift was approaching.

  “Should I prepare the next meal?” She was practically whispering in his ear and she could see the slight tremor of his muscles as her warm breath reached him. His ears were somewhat smaller than human ears but, as she had discovered, even more sensitive. He nodded wordlessly and she moved lightly away, pleased at his response.

  Her pleasure diminished considerably as they ate their meal and he informed her that Sardor Two was only four days away. She scowled after him as he disappeared into the san, pretty sure she knew what he was doing in there and that it wasn’t helping her cause at all, although the idea was extremely exciting. Four days to seduce her reluctant prince? Prince… An idea struck her and she smiled again as she hurried to prepare the cabin before he returned.

  Dragar lingered in the san, determined to prove that he had his body and his mind under control. The thought of Beth’s soft fingers tracing his scars caused his stomach to clench in an uncomfortable mixture of anxiety and desire. He was so used to considering them hideous—a view that most Sardorans would share—and yet his little one didn’t appear repelled at all. She obviously still wanted him just as much if her behavior over the course of the day was any indication. Her attempts at seduction were both sensuous and innocent, and the combination was extremely hard to resist. Unfortunately, while she seemed to have accepted his scars, his two other reasons for resisting her were unchangeable. His first consideration was that her body was just too delicate. She was so tiny and fragile and he was large, even for a Sardoran. They simply couldn’t be physically compatible. And even if they had been, he couldn’t risk it. Once he released his seed into her body, he knew he would form a mating bond—and he had nothing to offer her.

  Resolve firmly in place, he stepped out of the san and his body immediately betrayed him. Damn. Apparently she had discovered the button that converted the bottom bunk into a bed for two and she was stretched out sensuously, creamy skin glowing and her hair like river of pale fire down her back. Her long, bare legs extended toward him and for the first time, he noticed that her tiny toenails were a delicate shade of pink that matched her thin silk garments. For some reason that detail turned his shaft from hard to painful.

  “Beth,” he warned.

  She smiled and sat up and he could see the nipples he had tried so hard to ignore all day thrusting at him.

  “I have an idea,” she said. “Why don’t you come and sit down?” She patted the bed invitingly. Her breasts jiggled temptingly with the movement and all he could do was shake his head. “I promise I won’t touch you. I just want to tell you a story.”

  “A story?” That was the last thing he had expected.

  “Sit down,” she repeated, and patted the bed again. Feeling rather like he had the first time he went into battle, Dragar cautiously approached the bed and sat down.

  “Why don’t you dim the lights?” she suggested. Her translated voice was too soft for the ship systems to pick up—he had started reprogramming it during the last shift but the work wasn’t complete. Reluctantly he followed her directions and lowered the lights to a soft glow, allowing her to talk him into reclining comfortably against the wall. Or at least it would have been comfortable if he hadn’t been so tense. True to her word, she hadn’t touched him and now she knelt next to him, close enough so that her delectable fragrance wrapped around him but a hand’s width away.

  “So this is a story about us.”

  “Us?” he repeated, even more nervous.

  “Well, us as we could have been under different circumstances. If you had just been in the neighborhood, so to speak, and those beasts hadn’t been hunting me.” A bleak expression crossed her face and he almost reached for her, but she pushed it away and continued.

  “In my story, I am sitting on the chair in my garden. The sun is shining and I can hear the bees buzzing around my flowers. It’s very hot and I’m just wearing my thinnest clothes.” She stroked her fingers lightly down her front, just grazing her breast, and his heartbeat started to speed up.

  “I look up and there you are standing over me. So big and strong and powerful. And I know that you can do anything you want to me.”

  Now his palms were sweating.

  “But I’m not afraid. You can tell me to do anything.” Her small pink tongue darted out to lick her lips and her hands grasped the hem of her top. “When you tell me to take off my clothes, I don’t hesitate at first.” She raised the hem, slowly revealing each inch of skin up to the bottom curve of her perfect breasts. She paused, the thin silk brushing against her skin with each breath she took. “But then I feel shy. What if you don’t like the way I look?”

  “I’ll love the way you look. Take off your clothes.” His voice was hoarse but he didn’t care, as long as she kept lifting the fabric.

  Silk rippled against her skin and her breasts were bared to his hungry gaze, creamy skin glowing in the soft light and her full pink nipples already engorged. He clenched his fists to keep from reaching out and
plucking the tempting peaks. Her hands dropped down to the waistband of her tiny, pink panties and she slanted him a look from under her lashes.

  “Take them all off.” He knew he shouldn’t be playing her game but he wanted to see her entire luscious body. She stood up, skimming the small scrap of fabric down her long legs, and immediately returned to her kneeling position. This time she spread her legs slightly and he could see a teasing glimpse of delicate pink between the glistening pale gold curls.

  “You reach out and cup my breasts.” Her hands echoed her words, curving around each soft mound while her thumbs rubbed back and forth across each plump tip. “You tease my nipples, stroking them, and then tugging them harder.” Again she mimicked her words, grasping the tempting buds between thumb and finger and pulling them out before squeezing them hard enough that she gasped. His cock throbbed against the confining leather of his loincloth and he could feel the moisture dripping from the head.

  Her delectable aroma intensified and her eyes were wide and dark. He knew his were glowing silver as he gave in to her fantasy.

  “I slide my hands down your body.” His voice was a low rumble and she was still looking at him with those enormous innocent eyes. “Do it.”

  Her hands caressed the soft skin of her stomach.

  “My fingers reach between your legs and spread your lips so I can see every inch of your soft, wet pussy.”