Chapter 5 #2
He dropped to his knees, pulling her close against him until they were plastered together.
He wanted to devour every inch of her, strip her naked, spread her thighs, and plunge inside her.
He felt like a rutting beast with the scent of a female in heat.
The urges pounded inside him like nothing he’d ever felt before.
Then she tore her mouth from his, panting. She pulled away, falling back on the mat. His own chest was rising and falling very fast.
She cursed under her breath, pressing a hand to her lips.
He fought for control. He’d perfected control during his warrior training, made it his life’s work to never, ever let his nanami get out of control.
To not be what his father had been.
And right now, he was riding the edge of it.
“Not the usual response I get from a woman,” he said, managing to keep his tone light.
She stood. “You’re a problem, barbarian. One I don’t need. I have to go.” She hesitated.
Colm fought the urge to grab her and pull her back in for a kiss.
But maybe she was right. With his nanami going crazy the way they were, it might be best to limit his exposure to Honor Brandall.
She tightened the tail of her hair. “Be ready for your first trip into space, warrior. I’ll see you in the morning.”
She left him there, and Colm remained on his knees for a long time, his body buzzing and agitated.
Colm walked toward the large ship sitting out in the field.
By the Great Warrior. Its silver hull gleamed dully in the sunlight. It was called the Drake, named for some long-ago Earth explorer. Colm hefted his leather bag onto his shoulder and tried to find his adventurous spirit.
He’d much prefer his hargon beast beneath him and his sword in his hand.
Kavon, along with a small group of warriors, Niklas Phoenix, Nera Darc, and their team, had already left for the Darken Wilds.
After their mission to the Excalibur shipwreck, they were planning to transfer to the larger ship—the Magellan—that was still in orbit to scan the northern reaches of Markaria.
Niklas still believed a starship wreck could be hidden under the snow.
That left Colm to work with Honor on scanning the moons.
Inside, he wasn’t feeling his usual warrior calm. He was equal parts unsettled and eager about a trip to the stars.
And it wasn’t just about going into space. It was because of the woman he’d be with.
She’d haunted his dreams. A golden-haired, warrior-woman riding him, loving him with a wild passion.
There was heat in her. He sensed it. Felt it. She’d given him a taste of it, and then locked it up tight. He wasn’t sure why his little warrior denied it so hard.
His steps slowed and he heaved out a breath. But he wasn’t sure if dancing with Honor was a good thing anymore. He wanted her, but he was worried she could be the one thing that threatened his control.
And if his control broke…
No. He was a warrior. His jaw tightened. And right now, he had a job to do for his warlord.
When he reached the bottom of a ramp at the side of the ship, the door at the top slid open. Honor was waiting for him. She was wearing another neatly pressed uniform.
“Good morning,” she said.
He nodded, letting one fist curl. He wanted to touch that golden hair, stroke her soft cheek. “Good morning, Agent Brandall.” He paused beside her, the inch of space between them filling with tension. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes. Like a baby.”
The little liar. He could see the shadows under her eyes. “Really? I didn’t.”
Her gaze flicked up.
He leaned his head a little closer. “I dreamed of you, sitting astride me, riding me hard.”
She sucked in a breath. “Warrior Mal Kor, we have work to do.”
“And we’ll do it. Me telling you the truth won’t stop that.”
“You are so stubborn.”
“Determined.”
She stepped back and waved him inside. “No argument there. Come on, I’ll show you the cabin where you can leave your bag, and then give you a quick tour.”
As they navigated a sleek corridor, Colm noted the gleaming metal, sharp edges, and slick feel to the ship. It was nothing like the ragged furs, rough stone, and open spaces of Markaria.
They passed some more uniformed people. He recognized Dr. Lev’nan and Agent Wu. Honor introduced him to the others. More astro-archeologists and different types of scientists. Scholars. He was interested to see a few with scale-like skin, and another with skin of a pale blue.
“This is our library.” She waved her hand to the doorway. Colm saw a compact room with many books lined on shelves, several flat screens he guessed were computers, and a large flat table.
“You enjoy history?” he asked.
She nodded. “I’ve always studied combat, but I minored in astro-archeology at the academy where I studied. I’ve always been fascinated by history, I guess because of my homeworld.”
He detected something wistful and a little sad in her voice. “I cannot imagine losing my world. My people are connected to Markaria, for all its harsh landscapes and wild beasts.”
She smiled. “It’s silly, really. I don’t even remember Predia.” She stopped at a door. “Here you go.” She pressed a palm to a plate on the wall and the door slid open.
Inside was a small room with a large bed, built-in desk, and an adjoining room he guessed was for washing. He set his bag down. The cabin smelled of cleaning products and steel. He fought a grimace.
When he turned, he breathed in and smelled Honor’s spicy scent.
As they stepped back into the corridor, he detected a faint trace of Honor’s scent farther down the corridor. Without thinking, he followed it.
“Hey, warrior, where are you going?”
He pressed his palm to a door lock and it opened. Inside, the cabin was much the same as his, but a mirror image. The bed was neatly made, no clothes strewn anywhere, and the tantalizing scent of Honor was strong.
He strode in. He saw two crossed wooden staffs on the wall above the bed. They looked old, the center grips wrapped in faded red fabric. He spied a framed picture beside the bed.
“Barbarian,” she growled. “How about you get out of my cabin?”
He picked up the frame and studied the image. An older man stood to one side, his arm around a smiling Honor. On her other side were two tall men with short hair and rugged faces. The resemblance between them all was remarkable.
“Your family?”
“Yes.” She snatched the frame and set it down. “My father and brothers. They’re all soldiers in the GSS—Galactic Security Services.”
Colm tilted his head. “Why are you not part of this GSS?”
“My father asks me that every time I speak to him.” She took a deep breath. “I’m sure you won’t understand, but I don’t like to kill. I wanted to use my skills to protect, plus I love history, so working security for the Institute suits me far better than the military.”
Colm paused for a moment. “That makes perfect sense.”
Her mouth opened, closed. “No comment on me being too soft? Not having a killer instinct?”
He guessed she’d heard those accusations before. He lowered his voice. “Honor, I saw you use that sword and I saw you fight the raiders. I think your instincts, killer or not, are fine.”
She stared at him. “You just keep surprising and confusing me, warrior.”
He smiled. “Good.” He was going to taste Honor Brandall before she left his world, his own control issues be damned. “I have something for you.”
“Oh?”
“A gift.” He held out the package he’d had in his bag.
She eyed it like it might bite her.
“Does no one give you gifts?”
“No one I work with.”
She was a prickly thing. “It is Markarian tradition for leaders from different clans to offer a gift at the beginning of a working alliance.”
“Oh.” She took it and opened the thin, paper wrapping. Her eyes widened. “Oh!”
The gauntlets were smaller versions of the ones she’d admired at the arena. He’d paid a small fortune for the artisan to finish them quickly. It meant they weren’t richly decorated, just a few swirling engravings in the deep-brown leather. But Colm decided they suited Honor better that way.
She stroked them, a look of want on her face, and it went straight to his cock. He shifted.
She looked up. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
“It is tradition on Markaria to seal a working deal with a kiss.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Markarian warriors kiss when they work together?”
“No. They do a warrior’s shake, but since you have not passed the Way of the Warrior, you are not considered a warrior.” He smiled as she scowled. “No matter how well you can swing a sword or staff.”
“Fine.” She went up on her toes, pressing one hand to his chest.
He felt the burn of that touch, felt the sweet warmth of her. She pressed her lips to his. One fleeting brush, then she pulled back.
He saw the heat flickering in her eyes. “Kiss me again, Honor.”
“I shouldn’t. I think you’re dangerous. You warriors should come with a warning.”
“You aren’t a coward. What if I promise to keep my hands at my sides?”
“No.”
“Kiss me,” he coaxed. “One more time.”
She was still and silent, her gaze on his. Then slowly, so incredibly slowly, she leaned forward.
She nipped at his bottom lip, then deepened the kiss.
Colm groaned. She did, too, and suddenly the kiss turned into something wild and out of control. His nails bit into his skin as he fought not to break his word and grab her.
She threw her arms around his neck, her body plastered to his. She made hungry sounds, and Colm poured his frustration and desire into the kiss.
“Agent Brandall, preparation for take-off is going well. Twenty minutes.”
The voice made them jerk apart. The sound was coming from the small badge attached to Honor’s heaving chest.
She stepped back and he watched as her face turned serious.
She touched the badge. “Thank you, Wu. We’ll be there shortly.” She looked back at Colm. “Thank you for these.” She set the gauntlets on her bed. “Now, let me quickly show you the rest of the ship and we’ll get up to the cockpit for take-off.”