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  Plus, despite his size, they both knew she could have him flat on his back and lights out in an instant if she really wanted him to stop. And, fuck, if he didn’t like that about her best of all.

  “True. I have no problem knocking you out.” Guess he’d spoken aloud again. “I’d likely already have done it, if you weren’t so pitiful and I knew you were going to be one hundred percent embarrassed when the venom leaves your system.”

  “Pity, huh? I don’t think so.” That need in her voice? A dead giveaway. “I think you like me.” Tilting his head, he nuzzled her other perfect breast.

  “Yes. That’s exactly it.” Her voice was even lower than it had been moments before. “It has nothing at all to do with the fact that a rotting corpse would be far worse than all your muttering and cursing.”

  He couldn’t die here. Like this. Grif and the others needed him.

  “No one is dying. I just meant…” She shuddered as his teeth tugged gently at the tight bead. Note to self: she likes when I do that. Do it often. “Just…focus, Ryker. You’re going to be fine.” Another sharp tug at his scalp.

  Her breast left his mouth with a pop. He growled. He’d been hungry for so long and he hadn’t even realized it. But now…he was ravenous. I’m going to taste and touch every fucking part of her until she’s imprinted on my skin. Until I know every inch of her, even in the fucking dark. Trail my tongue over every curve and shove my fingers into every sweet, wet—

  “Listen to me.” Smooth hands closed around his jaw, cradling his face. “Your symptoms suggest you’ve been bitten by a male helipede. They’re small, dark-dwelling, and native to Dragath25. The females carry a venomous bite, but the male bite, while not fatal, is no less powerful. It’s the equivalent of a substantial dose of drink and mimics the same high.”

  High. So high. After feeling so low for so long.

  Another rough shake. “Do you understand what I’m saying? You’re not going to die. But you will feel like that soon. Once the worst of the venom leaves your system, you’ll be left with a nasty headache and you’ll feel weak and exhausted. But no long-term effects.”

  “I’m not weak.” It felt imperative that she know. “And I don’t care too much, assassin. I care too little. That’s my problem.” The words rolled out a bit easier this time. So, he rolled his tongue to enjoy the sensation.

  He wasn’t sure, but it seemed like a long time before she spoke again. “Who were they?”

  “Who?” He felt his eyes sliding shut. A dull throb building in the base of his spine.

  “The reason you care too little? The people who were murdered?”

  A sharp pain, like always. “My wife. My child.” But, unlike usual, the agony was gone in an instant, erased by the pleasant buzz that swallowed him whole. If only it could always be like that…but then they’d be lost to him forever. His eyes sunk closed once more.

  He jerked them open. “Hey. Where are you going?” Determined fingers were busy peeling his hands from her back. “I’m just about to blow your mind.”

  “You’re going to be fine.” Was it his imagination or did her voice sound softer than it had before? “You just need to sleep.”

  He clutched her closer. “Don’t want to sleep. Want to fuck. Want to forget. Come on, assassin. I know we’ll be as well matched in this as we are in battle.” He went to nuzzle her silky skin again—and pitched forward.

  Gentle hands caught him, guiding his fall.

  He landed softly on the ground, the solid floor cradling his back. Nice and smooth and comfortable. A little like his cot back home in the barracks. Maybe if he just lay on his back he could get his cellmate to sit on his face and…

  7

  Ryker’s eyelids slammed open. What the fuck was that noise? And why the hell did his head feel as if someone had jammed an icepick through it?

  A vague, disquieting sense of déjà vu whispered through him.

  Then, the full onslaught of memories hit hard.

  He shoved to sitting. “Assassin?”

  “Enjoy your slumber?” Another slam. Though he couldn’t see, he knew now what the noise was. She was still hard at work. Undeterred by the increasingly Sisyphus-like nature of their task. Trying to make a hole in a metal floor that was unbreakable.

  “How long have I been out?” He rubbed at his neck. Damn thing was stiff and hurt like hell. The throbbing in his head was no picnic, either. Stupid bug.

  He resisted the urge to look up at the ceiling—and the pussy-assed impulse to shudder. Not knowing what the hell else was up there wasn’t fun, but there was nothing he could do about it in the dark.

  “Hard to know.” Her no-nonsense response was a welcome distraction. “A few planetary hours at least.”

  Janus hell. All that time vulnerable. Yet she hadn’t killed him.

  Interesting.

  “Storm is getting worse.” Her words were understated, but he took note of the roaring wind and rocking cell. Both way more violent than before.

  Matched his mood. Fucking helipede. That bite had opened a gate he needed to close hard and fast.

  Hell, even before the bite, her admission that she was lonely had made his chest go tight. Add to that the recent memory of her warm, soft skin against his lips and he was hard as stone and primed to do something really, really stupid.

  He rubbed a hand down his face. Shoved to his feet. “Thanks for before. With the bite.”

  “No problem.” Her tone was all business. A clear sign she had no interest in discussing what had happened. While the taste of her still seared his tongue.

  Which was why he said, “Memory’s a little hazy, but I know I came on strong.”

  “I barely noticed the difference.”

  He stifled a grin, his mood already improving. “Not even when you were writhing beneath my mouth, that hot, tight nipple beading with each flick of my tongue?”

  Absolute silence.

  He really wished he could see her face right then. Could she actually not realize her frosty attitude was like waving a red flag beneath his bullheaded nose?

  His lips were turning upward, his body already revving for another round, when a loud slam against the side jerked him from his thoughts.

  A violent boom from above.

  The hold shuddered. Swayed.

  The ceiling creaked. Worse than before.

  “Janus hell. It’s another direct hit. Get to the side.” He leapt toward where he’d last heard her voice.

  Only to feel a warm, hard body slam into his.

  “THIS FEELS FAMILIAR.” Ryker’s hard body was pressed tight to hers, the wall behind them. The ominous creaks and shudders from above raising the very real possibility that the ceiling might collapse at any moment. Right on them.

  “With a little twist.” His breath caressed the shell of her ear. “This time you’re on top.”

  She heard the question in his voice. Why did you leap to protect me?

  She ignored it. How could she answer when she didn’t know herself?

  His strength had impressed her from the start, but the vulnerability he’d revealed while under the helipede bite had made an even greater impact.

  And the things he’d said.

  It was no surprise that a hothead, impulsive male like him would be so good at dirty talking. What was a surprise was how much she’d liked it.

  She needed to corral her mind and body back to the place they’d been before the helipede incident, but that was proving harder than expected. Especially with his arms wrapped tight around her.

  Another loud scrape.

  Without warning, he spun, taking her with him, his big body smashing her spine into the corner, the sturdiest place should the ceiling give. Every muscled, hard inch of him imprinted against her skin.

  Closing her throat, she locked down a moan.

  She should be focused on the weakening ceiling, but ever since his mouth closed over her breast and his magical tongue wandered across her skin, she’d been on fire. The ache betwee
n her thighs painful. Her nipples tight and hard. No matter how long she battered at the floor with her chain, the tormenting sensations refused to go away.

  Through sheer force of will, she forced her thoughts elsewhere. “Do you think the ceiling will hold?”

  Instead of answering, he asked a question of his own. “Are you going to try to kill me again?” His voice was a rasp at her ear. Seductive. Thick with lust.

  She fought a shiver. “I’m still deciding.” On instinct, her palm had gone to his throat the instant they’d slammed into one another, but her position was more of a lazy hold. No actual pressure or violence.

  Unlike the fingers digging into her hair and hip. “Let me know when you figure it out.” A muscular thigh slid between her legs, his tone pure confidence. “I’m good staying like this until you do.”

  Clearly, he’d taken her decision to let him live while unconscious as a sign he could bait her and get away with it.

  She’d have to address that erroneous assumption at some point.

  But not quite yet.

  Because the scent of him—of man and raw power—was making the ache between her thighs spread to her chest, her fingertips, her toes. The press of his body forcing boundaries to blur and smudge.

  The ceiling groaned and shifted once more.

  “It’ll hold,” he insisted, as if his will alone would keep them from being crushed.

  Eyes closed, she imagined how they must look right now. Tense. Waiting. Barely breathing. His big, sculpted body curled over hers. The pitch-black obscuring the lines of Council and Resistance, ice queen and hothead. Until they were just two breathless shadows wrapped around one another, desperate to feel, to touch, to live.

  The words leapt from her. “If this is the end—”

  “We are getting out of here,” he insisted, one hand tangling in her hair as he locked her to him. His lips so close, the heat of them vibrated against her own. “Neither one of us is dying in this cell. Stop saying otherwise.”

  “You think I want to die? I don’t.” As if they had a will of their own, her hips dragged upward along his groin. A plea. An invitation. A desperate need that had been building since she realized that this time she might not outrun the nanotechnology beneath her skin. “But, sweet Janus, felon, you know what I want even more?”

  He stilled against her. “What?”

  Her hand left his throat and tangled in his thick hair. “I want to finally live.”

  “Fuck, yeah.” As if he’d only been awaiting her signal, his mouth skimmed the wild, fluttering pulse at the base of her neck.

  On a moan, she bared her throat, reveling in the scrape of his teeth against her exposed tendon.

  Her trainers would have disapproved. Her willing vulnerability, a heinous violation. Her decision to instigate sex when it in no way furthered her mission, a breach of protocol.

  But they weren’t here now, were they? They’d cut ties. Thanked her for her service, extolled the virtue of dying for the cause, and left her to figure out the rest.

  There’d been nothing in her training about a man like Ryker. The shock of heat that left one defenseless. The breathless wonder of warm, powerful flesh gliding over hers. The power of calloused hands and heavy, rasped breaths that battered past her defenses. The thrill that came from flagrantly skirting the edge. From pushing both her control and his to the limit.

  She wanted more of that. More living. More heat. Especially if she only had a few short moments left to experience such sensations.

  “Show me,” she whispered. “Show me everything.”

  His answer was a low growl as he pulled her with him to the ground. The floor cool beneath her spine an erotic contrast to the molten steel blanketing her as he moved over her.

  Dominant. Demanding. Primal. His knees caged either side of her hips and pinned her down. When she made no move to attack, he grasped her hands and raised them above her head, all the while nuzzling her throat and jaw as he’d done when he’d been high from the helipede bite.

  The position was entirely too submissive, but her body loved it. Her nipples tightening to hard points while her body arched beneath his.

  “Fuck. You taste so good.” He growled the words against her skin. The brush of his lips over her chest and then her belly, pure ecstasy. The velvet stroke of his tongue sending her arousal higher with every touch.

  “I wanted to mark this flesh since I saw it.” He bit down gently on her nipple. Chased the sting with his tongue. And made her moan in ecstasy as his hand slid down her body, over her hips and mons, until he found her clit. Yes!

  Her eyelids fluttered shut as his thumb rubbed the tight, swollen bud as if he was born to do it.

  Once she was panting, he drove a thick finger inside her.

  Bucking, she moaned again. Spread her legs wider.

  “So wet. So soft.” His voice was a strained groan and it soothed her to know she wasn’t the only one skirting the edge of control. “I’d give anything to see you right now. All the cold, pale marble melting at my touch.”

  He sounded entirely too smug.

  Wrapping her thighs around him, she torqued her hips and rolled. Emerging on top. The added friction almost making her come right then and there. Especially since his hand was still trapped against her clit.

  Pleased with the change in position, she leaned down until her mouth was inches from his. “You think you’re the only one who knows how to leave a mark, felon?”

  He laughed.

  Somehow it was the perfect reaction. Confident. Arrogant. Unpredictable. Just like him.

  She didn’t need the light to imagine all that sculpted skin stretched out beneath her. He was so big, so solid. The picture sent a rush of heat between her thighs. No wonder he was unfazed by her effort to bait him. The man didn’t need to prove anything to anyone.

  Slowly, deliberately, she dragged her nails down his chest and stomach and over the ridges of his scars, exploring them, honoring them, the reminder of his ability to survive arousing her all the more.

  “I thought you said you didn’t like scars?” Despite the wariness in his tone, he shuddered beneath her caress.

  “That’s my employers’ view. Not mine. I like your body very much.” To prove her point, she grasped the stem of his cock, relishing the velvet steel beneath her palm, her own thighs growing wetter as he arched his hips and pushed back into her hand—and all the while, his fingers never stopping working her exactly as she needed.

  “So much fire beneath that frost. You might just burn us both alive.”

  She tightened her grip on his cock. “And you accuse me of harping on death and destruction.”

  An almost-chuckle and then, without warning, his beautiful, skilled fingers disappeared and he gripped her ass and held her aloft, hovering right over his dick. “I can promise you I’m feeling pretty alive right now.”

  She shivered, his show of strength sending her arousal higher. The appeal of the rugged, thick-necked, caveman type far more understandable than before.

  “Show me,” she repeated.

  “For once, an order I’ll allow.” The thick head of his cock prodded her entrance.

  “Yes. Pl—” She barely cut herself off in time. She’d never come so close to begging in all her life. He was frenzied and wild and fierce and called to a part of her buried long ago. A part of her that whispered this was what she’d always craved. Connection. Something other than the total aloneness that had been her life.

  She couldn’t wait for him to be deep inside her.

  And yet, he hadn’t yet moved. His fingers still clenching her ass and holding her aloft.

  It took her pleasure-dazed brain an instant to form her desperate question. “Why are you hesitating?”

  “What about pregnancy?”

  She stiffened. Old habits dying hard. But her voice was steady as she said, “Even if by some miracle we make it out of here alive, I can’t get pregnant.”

  “The Facility gave you something?”
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  “I can’t get pregnant.” Done with the subject, she rolled her hips, making certain her wet core brushed his dick. “Are you done with overtalking now?”

  Another almost-chuckle. “Such a smart mouth… A smart mouth I can’t wait to hear scream my name.” His grip on her ass tightened. “You ready for this, Jade Lakotesh?”

  “I was born ready.”

  He drove deep inside. She bore down.

  Two equal forces of power and momentum. Both groaning as he filled her to the hilt.

  Her head dropped back, her breathing erratic, her body working to adjust. The man was huge.

  “You still with me, assassin?” Lust had thickened his voice to a low rumble.

  “What do you think, felon?” She rocked against him. Lips quirking upward at his low groan.

  “I think you should do that again.”

  She ground her pelvis in a slow circle. Rocked once more.

  “Oh, yeah.” His hands dragged her up and down his cock.

  Her nails curled against his sculpted chest.

  There was a beautiful intimacy to the dark. Hidden from view, the roaring of wind and rocks drowning out everything but their ragged breaths.

  Here, there was no need for her to guard her expression. No obligation to keep one eye open.

  All her secrets and sins and foolish longings absorbed in the shadows.

  “Just like that,” he growled, as if he felt it, too. The magic. The chemistry between them. His chest heaving as he worked her up and down his shaft.

  She let her eyelids flutter shut, her head tip back further, and simply felt.

  It was a freedom she’d never allowed herself before.

  “So good,” she whispered.

  “About to get better.” His hand slid between them, his rough thumb gliding over her swollen clit.

  She moaned, every nerve ending tingling as he brought her closer to the edge.

  “That’s right, Jade.” His voice was a rough rasp, his thrusts growing more frenzied, her name on his lips making her wild. “Show me just how hot my marble ice queen can get.”

  Her control splintered. Her voice joining the howling wind as she screamed his name. Her back arching as she struggled to draw him deep.