An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

www.ellorascave.com

Seducer

ISBN 9781419913600
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Seducer Copyright © 2007 Aubrey Ross

Edited by Mary Moran.
Photography and cover art by Les Byerley.

Electronic book Publication December 2007

This book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written
permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-
3502.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales
is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

S

EDUCER

Aubrey Ross

Aubrey Ross

Prologue

Mal Ton lowered his face between his lover’s slender thighs as much to hide his

calculating expression as to enjoy her eager responses. She was a lusty little thing. There
was no denying her uninhibited enjoyment of carnal pleasure. Still, her quick mind and
ruthless ambition made her a dangerous adversary.

She arched, pressing her slick folds against his lips. “Do it,” she murmured. “Lick

me like you did last night. You have the most talented tongue I’ve ever felt.”

His dominant nature balked at the breathless command. “Beg me,” he countered,

flicking his “talented” tongue against her swollen clit.

She grasped his head with both hands and pulled his face up until he met her

passion-bright gaze. “Make me come or go away. I have no patience for your games
tonight.”

With his gaze boring into hers, he pushed two fingers into her hot, wet passage.

“Why are you so—tense?” He added the last word as his thumb circled her clit. She
shuddered, her inner muscles rippling around his fingers.

Her long lashes swept down, concealing her expressive eyes. Mal Ton scowled.

Learning what pleasured her lissome body had only taken a matter of days. Her
mercurial moods and erratic behavior were far harder to predict. If he’d had time to
prepare and months to devote to learning her habits, he might have unlocked the
mysteries of General Bryson’s first lesser wife. As it was, Mal Ton had to know what
Bryson was planning and he had to know now.

“Talk to me, Nehalem.” He moved his hand in a teasing spiral, dragging his fingers

nearly out. “Why are you so upset?”

“I don’t want to talk. I want to fuck. If that’s not why you’re here, then get out!” She

kicked at him. He easily avoided her foot and pushed his fingers back in. Her full
breasts jiggled as she grabbed for his hand.

He chuckled and caught her wrist. “Behave.”
She arched her back, forcing his fingers deeper as she turned her face away. “That’s

all I’m good for. Haven’t you heard? I’m the best fuck on the base, but that’s all I am.”

He drew her arm above her head and pinned it to the rumpled bed as he continued

the slow, deep thrusting with his other hand. She was beautiful. All of the general’s
wives were beautiful. Resentment and longing radiated from her, inundating Mal Ton’s
empathic receptors. He identified the emotions without allowing himself to be affected
by them. This was a mission. He had to remain emotionally detached.

“Please.” She raised her other arm above her head, allowing him to grasp it as well.

“I need your mouth. I’m begging you.”

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That was too damn easy. He’d hoped she’d resist and give him reason to restrain her.

Nothing thrilled him more than commanding his lover’s responses, watching her
surrender everything to his aggressive brand of passion. He pushed his fingers deep
and left them there while he went to work on her sensitive clit.

She lifted her legs to his shoulders, crossing her ankles behind his neck. “Lick me.

Suck me. Then fuck me with your tongue. That bastard never touches me with his
mouth. He lets me suck him dry night after night but he’ll never—oh!” He cut off her
tirade with a careful nip and settled his mouth against her slit. “Yes, just like that!”

She had every right to be discontent. Like most of Bryson’s sixteen lesser wives,

Nehalem had been a gift to her powerful husband from a people desperate for his
protection.

Unfortunately for Mal Ton, it was doubtful her resentment would lead to outright

betrayal. He’d spent the past three nights in her bed and she’d confessed nothing
useful. She either knew nothing important or she was loyal to “the bastard”. Flaunting
her lovers hadn’t recaptured her husband’s attention. Bryson had obviously lost interest
in his beautiful, barren first lesser wife.

Mal Ton felt her orgasm build and sank deeper into her mind. His psychic

compulsions were mild at best, but he only needed a few minutes to snoop around. At
the exact moment her pleasure crested, he launched his mental pulse and sent her into
unconsciousness. Her legs went lax against his back and her breath released in a soft
moan.

He disentangled himself from her naked body and crawled off the bed. If she

stirred before he found what he was looking for, he’d claim he’d gone to get her a glass
of water. He grabbed his discarded pants and fished a slim datapad out of his back
pocket.

Her control console flickered to life as he sat down at the station but a security

scanner protected her private files. Damning the inconvenience as well as the delay, he
scooped up the unconscious woman and held her on his lap. He rested her head against
his shoulder and held her eyelid open until the scanner confirmed her identity.

After returning Nehalem to her bed, Mal Ton copied the entire directory into his

datapad. No sense wasting any more time. He could sort through the information when
he returned to Stilox.

While the information streamed, he glanced at Nehalem. She had curled up on her

side and tucked her hands beneath her cheek like a child. The steady rise and fall of her
luscious breast assured him she was sound asleep. Good. He really didn’t want to
spend the rest of the night listening to her complain about “the bastard” while she
demanded progressively kinkier sex acts from him.

Mal Ton knew something important was about to happen. Security had never been

tighter. Stilox Reformation Command just hadn’t been able to determine what had the
Protarian officials all worked up. Quickly confirming that he had the information on his
datapad, he finished dressing and slipped into the secret passageway. Nehalem had

5

Aubrey Ross

showed him the exit after their first night together. He kept his head down and moved
with a casual stride, determined not to draw attention.

He emerged in the officers’ shuttle lot and headed for the gate at the other side of

the fenced area.

“Halt!”
The sharp command brought him up short. He had a pulse pistol tucked into the

back of his pants and a knife hidden in his boot. He fervently hoped he wouldn’t need
either. Dead bodies were too hard to explain.

“Where did you come from?” the guard asked, his gaze gleaming in the moonlight.
“I thought you did a perimeter sweep on the hour, every hour.”
Those bright eyes narrowed and his thumb tapped the molded grip of his sidearm.

“I just got back. State your name for the ident-link.”

“I’m not in your system. My business here is confidential.”
“Visitors are required to register with the—”
“Look, my client would rather not be identified as utilizing my services so I take

care of his needs on his shuttle. If you’d like a taste of what he pays for, I’ve got no
problem with that.”

“You’re a… I see.” He took a step back, clearly uncomfortable with the revelation.

“The base provides for the sexual appetites of the fighters. I don’t understand why an
officer would break protocol to be with a—”

“Let’s go to your quarters and I’ll show you why.” Mal Ton advanced. If the guard

didn’t back down soon, he’d be forced to blast him. The lot was dark and the only
surveillance transmitter was at his back. Still, a weapon’s pulse would activate
automated security. He needed to end this ridiculous conversation now. Scanning the
guard’s mind, Mal Ton decided to push his luck. “I get paid by the tick, buddy. Take
me in or let me go down. I’m the best fuck you’ll ever have.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it. Tell your client to come to you next time. I won’t

let this slide again.”

Finally! Mal Ton blew the guard a kiss and hurried through the narrow gate.

* * * * *

“Come in,” Roark Talbot called without taking his eyes from his vidscreen. Mal Ton

strode into his office looking far too smug for someone who had just returned from
behind enemy lines. “Your mission was successful, I gather?”

“They’re planning to snatch some hotshot geneticist from an obscure planet called

Earth. If half of the information in her dossier is accurate, she’s light-years beyond her
provincial world.”

“Snatch, as in kidnap?” Roark hated Mal Ton’s reckless ventures. Every person on

Stilox risked something for the cause, but Mal Ton enjoyed the danger. He refused to

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consider the cost of any mission, focusing entirely on results. Roark knew pain drove
Mal Ton’s ruthlessness. He understood what Mal Ton had lost. Still, it couldn’t go on
forever and Stilox couldn’t afford to lose Mal Ton. “Won’t kidnapping an alien cause an
interplanetary incident?”

“If this woman can do what she claims, the Protarian government will risk anything

to get her. According to the file, they’ve attempted to gain her cooperation willingly and
she’s refused. This is a last resort.”

“What if she’s full of shit?” Roark asked. He knew that gleam in Mal Ton’s eyes. His

friend was already working on a strategy. “Earth’s technology is nothing special. In
most areas they can learn from us.”

“Therein lies our dilemma.” Mal Ton dropped into one of the chairs facing Roark’s

desk. Mal Ton was still dressed in the garish ensemble of a Protarian courtier. He must
have come directly from his shuttle. “If she’s full of shit, the Protarians can have her. On
the other hand, if her claims of complete genetic transcription are truthful, we need her
more than they do.”

Roark pushed back from his desk and allowed the possibility of ending the

nightmare—or even lessening the suffering—wash over him. Endless years of war had
left Stilox a ravaged shell of twisted metal and toxic fumes. The toll exacted upon
Protaria was more insidious, yet no less devastating. How could one Earth woman help
undo the damage, even if she was “light-years beyond her provincial world”?

“Why won’t she cooperate with the Protarians? What have they offered her?”
“Monetary compensation, exchanges of information and land grants for

colonization. She’s having none of it.” Mal Ton’s mouth curved without parting. “I like
her already.”

“What do you intend to do?” Trying to talk Mal Ton out of whatever he had in

mind would be a waste of breath. Besides, Roark was intrigued by this reckless venture.
He couldn’t wait to read more about this mysterious geneticist, to see what had the
Protarians so captivated.

“Someone is naming a hospital after her.” Mal Ton laughed. “Who the fuck gets a

hospital named after them?” His gaze turned calculating and cold. “I’ll make sure I’m
assigned to her security contingent. I’ll escort her to this ridiculous gala. Once I’ve spent
some time with her, I should be able to determine if she’s the real deal or not. If she’s all
bluster, I’ll deliver her to Protaria.”

“And if she’s as brilliant as everyone seems to think?”
A predatory smile finally parted his lips. “I’ll snatch the prize right out from under

their noses and rig her transport to explode.”

7

Aubrey Ross

Chapter One

Medicort Research Station

International Space, Earth, 2118

“My god, you look gorgeous.”
Andrea Raynier chuckled. “Did you have to sound so amazed?”
Janelle rolled her chair back from her workstation and swiveled to face Andrea. “I

figured you’d clean up well, but damn. If I had a body like yours, I’d never wear
clothes.” Thin and gangly, Janelle wasn’t anyone’s ideal of feminine beauty, but Andrea
depended on her sharp mind and easygoing manner.

“Thanks for the mental image.” She softened the jibe with a teasing smile. Andrea

appreciated every member of her staff, but Janelle made her laugh, a quality underrated
in Andrea’s opinion. “I need all the help I can get if I hope to make it through this
night.” She smoothed the clingy material of the evening gown over her hips and
wiggled her toes in her high-heeled sandals.

“Oh come on, it’s not every day a person gets a hospital named after them. Enjoy

the spectacle.”

“Full media coverage and four hundred guests trampling each other to get a

glimpse of the reclusive Ms. Raynier.” Andrea shuddered. “Sounds like a good time to
me.”

“I say you get shit-faced, find the best-looking man in the room and fuck his brains

out in the coat closet.” Messy brown hair framed her impish face and mischief shone
from her dark eyes.

Heat crawled up Andrea’s neck and blossomed across her cheekbones as her

imagination happily created the scene. She saw herself pressed against a wall, her arms
pinned over her head by a dark-haired man in a tuxedo. Raising one of her legs to his
waist, he claimed her mouth with brutal demand as he guided his cock to the entrance
of her long-neglected body.

Swallowing hard, Andrea ignored the familiar ache between her thighs and fiddled

with her upswept hair. “If I had a libido like yours, I’d never get anything done.”

“But you’d die happy.”
She moved past Janelle and activated the vidscreen centered in her desk.
“Why are you down here anyway?” her lab assistant asked. “Isn’t your bodyguard

waiting in the departure ring?”

Her only response was an annoyed look. The rent-a-cop hadn’t been her idea.

Director Sanchez refused to allow her off the space station unless she agreed to private
security. She understood the precaution but balked at the director’s highhanded means.

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Seducer

RENA, Andrea’s brainchild, had completely disrupted her well-ordered life. The

synthetic DNA backbone maintained, and in some cases restored, the integrity of DNA
during intentional transcription. The medical community had just begun to explore the
potential of the revolutionary process. Military factions were half a step behind.
Bidding wars and thinly veiled threats were now an everyday obstacle. Little wonder
she’d become reclusive.

“I wanted to check on a few things before I took off.”
“That is so pathetic.” Janelle turned back to her console and entered a series of

quick commands. Andrea’s display went blank. “I’m here to hold down the fort. Go!
Have a good time.”

She started to object when the door slid open and a dark-haired man stepped into

the lab. Tall and broad shouldered, his stiff posture and sharp-eyed stare identified him
as military even without the uniform. His hair had been sectioned off and formed into
thin dreadlocks that reached the middle of his back. The thick mass was secured at the
nape of his neck, accenting the ruthless angles of his features. He appeared humanoid,
yet not quite human. His skin tone was a bit too golden, the tilt of his eyes too
pronounced.

“This is a high security level.” She sounded as assertive as her evening attire

allowed. “How did you get down here?”

“Commander Mal Ton Adoha.” He spoke with a pronounced accent, adding to his

exotic appeal. “I’m your escort for the evening.” His shoulders remained squared, arms
at his sides as his teal gaze boldly assessed her figure.

She would have been insulted by his stare, but in all honesty, her dress begged for

the attention. Her breasts curved well into view and one side of the gown was slit to
mid-thigh. The dark brown material shimmered with green and gold iridescence,
perfectly matching the multi-colored hazel of her eyes.

“To arrive at the gala on schedule, we must leave in the next few minutes.”
She acknowledged the statement with a stiff nod and turned to Janelle. “Com me if

there are any unusual developments.”

The corners of Janelle’s mouth quirked suspiciously as she looked from Andrea to

Mal Ton and back. “Gottcha covered.” She dropped her voice to barely a whisper and
added, “Remember my suggestion about the coat closet? That one is perfect for the job.”
She turned back to her desk before Andrea could react to the comment.

With measured steps, Andrea crossed the lab. Mal Ton’s gaze focused on her face

and awareness arced between them like sizzling currents of electricity. This could prove
interesting. Director Sanchez had streamed Mal Ton’s dossier to her workstation when
he’d first insisted on private security for the evening, but the profile hadn’t included an
image. Now she had a devastating face to put with his impressive credentials.

She paused near the door and motioned to the security scanner, needing to alleviate

her final paranoia. “Would you mind?”

9

Aubrey Ross

“Of course not.” He pressed his palm against the smooth surface and the scanner

confirmed his identity.

“You said commander. What do you command?” She switched to Standard, the

language established for the facilitation of interplanetary trade. He was making a
valiant effort to speak Earthish, but she preferred to avoid miscommunication.

They turned to the right as they left the lab, her high heels providing a rhythmic

accompaniment for their conversation. The extra three inches only brought her head
even with his shoulder. Damn the man was tall.

“Habit. I keep forgetting I’m retired.”
She glanced up at him, her brow furrowed. He was a man in his prime. How could

he be retired? “How long have you been on Earth?”

He chuckled. “I immigrated from an obscure planet you’ve probably never heard of

and to my knowledge no human has ever visited. I could say the name, but it doesn’t
translate well into Standard.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude.” She scanned open the lift and stepped inside.

“Scientists are curious by nature.”

His only reply was an enigmatic smile.
A luxury transport awaited them in the departure ring. Faster and far more

comfortable than the public shuttles, the sleek ship would have them Earth-side in a
matter of hours. Mal Ton offered his hand as she approached the steep stairs leading to
the passenger cabin. She placed her hand on his palm and his warm fingers closed in a
gentle grasp. The courteous gesture shouldn’t have been arousing, but the commander
exuded male virility.

Andrea took a deep breath and looked around the elegant cabin as Mal Ton ducked

through the hatch behind her. Chilled champagne and hors d’oeuvre had been
thoughtfully tucked into compartments near the main row of seats.

“Does everything meet with your approval?” His deep voice sounded from close

behind her.

Touch me. Wrap your arms around me and… She shook away the disconcerting

thought. He was here to ensure her safety, not alleviate her sexual frustration.
“Everything looks fine. Thank you.” Had he heard the odd catch in her tone? Did he
feel the tense awareness or had she just spent too much time alone in her lab?

“I’ll notify the pilot that we’re ready for departure.”
She turned around in time to see him disappear through a door on the other side of

the cabin. He moved with remarkable grace for a man of his size. Broad back, tight butt
and muscular legs, the man was just plain—fuckable. She didn’t try to hide her smile.
With him gone, there was no need. Janelle must be rubbing off on her.

After pouring herself a glass of champagne, she selected a seat and waited for Mal

Ton’s return. He ducked back through the doorway a few minutes later, his gaze
intense yet inscrutable.

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“You have a vidcom from General Bryson. Are you available to take the call?”
Just the name sent irritation rippling through her body. If she refused the call,

Bryson was liable to show up at the gala. “He can’t seem to figure out that he’s wasting
his time.” She took a moment to secure her safety restraints before she flipped up the
small vidscreen tucked into the arm of her chair and waited for Bryson’s image to
appear.

“What can I do for you?” She made no attempt to hide the impatience in her tone.
“I was hoping you’d reconsidered my offer.” He sat behind a desk, his hands neatly

folded in front of him.

“I have no desire to be involved in an off-world project. We have problems enough

right here on Earth. I told you that three days ago, and I told you why.”

“Without your assistance, the Protarian people will succumb to extinction within a

generation. The mutations are getting worse. How can you sit back and let that
happen?” A sharp note cut through his tone. This was the aspect of her success she
hadn’t anticipated and liked the least. How did she divide her time and prioritize cases
when there were so many in need? She couldn’t let this man bully her. Other
applications were just as urgent and had none of the extenuating circumstances.

The transport lifted off with a sudden blast of acceleration. She pressed her hand

against her chest and waited for her equilibrium to return before she spoke again. “I’m
not the only geneticist on Earth. I have every confidence you’ll find one willing to
accommodate the Protarians.”

“Without RENA any other geneticist will be useless to the Protarians and you

control RENA. They don’t have time for conventional research. Why are you opposed
to helping them?”

She hadn’t meant to get into all this in front of Mal Ton. He’d flipped up his own

vidscreen and didn’t appear to be paying attention. Shifting her focus back to Bryson’s
expectant face, she took a deep breath. If the stubborn jerk wouldn’t accept her polite
refusal, she’d spell it out for him.

“I’d never heard of Protaria before you brought them to my attention, so I did some

research. I wasn’t able to find much on the Interweb about them, but what I found was
upsetting to say the least. They hold intergalactic patents for the technology that
produces several forms of renewable energy and they’ve been at war for three hundred
years. What kind of people can be so technologically advanced and yet allow war to
rage for three hundred years?”

“You don’t approve of their history, so they don’t deserve to live? Could you be any

more arrogant?” His brows scrunched together and he expelled a sharp, humorless
laugh.

“It’s not arrogance. I must set priorities. Do you have any idea how many

applications the RENA program received last month?” He said nothing. His mutinous
expression made it clear he only cared about one. “Is my information accurate? Are the
Protarians still at war?”

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His eyes shimmered and he pressed his lips together so hard they disappeared.

“One has nothing to do with the other.”

“I disagree.” She straightened her back and looked into his eyes. “Dedicating time

and resources to a people so committed to war is counterproductive to everything I
believe. If the Protarians can negotiate an end to the hostilities, I would be more than
willing to reconsider their application.”

“You foolish girl.” He looked away from the screen for a moment and a shiver ran

down Andrea’s spine. His personal investment in the negotiation was obvious with
each word he spoke. Did he know someone on Protaria or was he dreading the loss of
their promised compensation? “You’re lucky the Stilox didn’t find you first. Now they
are truly savage. Their only contribution to history is their weapons, their brutality and
their tradition of sharing their women!”

Who were the Stilox and what did they have to do with the general’s proposal?

Rather than allow the conversation to continue off course, she said, “I’m sorry. I wish I
could help everyone but I can’t. It’s simply not possible.”

He shook his head as his gaze filled with disappointment. “Just remember I tried to

be reasonable. Enjoy the party.”

* * * * *

Mal Ton stood at the edge of the massive ballroom watching Andrea waltz around

the dance floor in the arms of a dashing young human. Most of the men wore black
while the women were resplendent in every imaginable hue. Artificial candlelight
flickered high overhead and the holo-orchestra morphed with each new song.

Mal Ton’s empathic receptors had been inundated with emotion the moment he

entered the crowded room. He’d hoped to scan the assembly, learn as much as he could
before taking Andrea to his ship. The sheer onslaught of emotion had made his
objective impossible.

Mustering energy and concentration, he shielded his mind from the overwhelming

barrage and relaxed behind the mental barricade. These humans were confusing
creatures. Their sophistication and civility often hid vicious impulses that would rival
the most brutal Stilox warrior. Mal Ton found it all rather hypocritical. Many
considered his people ruthless, but they lived by a strict code of honor.

He located Andrea again and found her gaze on him. Hazel eyes dominated her

delicate features, reflecting the simulated candlelight. She looked back at her partner as
the man led her into another turn. Her golden hair had been pulled up and styled with
sweeping twists and tiny braids. It had been pulled back and secured at the nape of her
neck in her vidfiles. What would it look like unbound, loose around her shoulders?

Opening his mind just enough to sense her feelings, he stifled a groan. Desire and

an aching fascination rolled across his receptors. If she didn’t stop lusting after him,
he’d forget his mission and give her exactly what she was imagining. Were human
females always so hot-blooded? The Protarians would benefit greatly if they were.

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The evening had been a dreadful bore. He’d sat at her side during the tedious meal

while others monopolized the conversation, often speaking Earthish too fast for him to
understand. He was left to admire her quick wit and easy smile, to wonder if her skin
was as soft as it looked, and imagine her shapely body slick and rosy with passion’s
afterglow. Her vidfiles hadn’t begun to capture the complex beauty that was Andrea
Raynier.

A short presentation followed the meal. Her colleagues extolled her

accomplishments and praised her character. Each testimonial escalated Mal Ton’s
resentment. How could such a paragon of intelligence and nobility dismiss the Stilox
crisis as incidental? Sure, the Protarians were technically negotiating for her
cooperation, but the biological crisis was ravaging both planets.

She wasn’t the only one who had done their homework. Earth had a violent and

bloody past dating back several millennia, not three centuries. Within the past ten years,
the North American Alliance had used preemptive strikes against their enemies. Who
was she to cast judgment on him? She knew nothing about the conflict between Stilox
and Protaria and hadn’t cared enough to learn. After glancing at one fragment of
information, she’d condemned two planets to death.

He sighed and squared his shoulders. That assessment wasn’t fair. This feisty

scientist hadn’t created the problem—she’d just refused to become involved. He had to
admire her conviction even if it contradicted his.

The swirling pattern of the dance brought her near for a moment. She smiled at her

partner, her eyes sparkling. The lad held her too closely, but she didn’t seem to mind. A
slow wave of tingling awareness rolled across Mal Ton’s senses. He tried to raise his
shields and found his mind already protected.

You want her. This isn’t a response to her lust. You want this human.
The realization both shocked and fascinated him. It had been ages since he’d felt

attraction for anyone. He’d seen too much and lost too many. All his weaker emotions
had been consumed by decades of rage. Sexuality was a weapon like any other. He used
them all with equal proficiency. His soul was beyond redemption so he shielded the
others, protecting as many as he could.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, ignoring the considerable pressure

in his groin. She danced with an older man now. Her partner’s gaze lowered to her
breasts with obvious interest and Mal Ton fought back a snarl.

The survival of his people depended on this woman, whether she was willing to

accept the fact or not. The Stilox might not be a priority for Andrea, but she was top
priority for them.

With a measured sigh, Mal Ton steeled himself for what he was about to do. He let

the ravaged faces of his loved ones scroll through his memory and reinforce his
determination. This was war. It’s not her war. He silenced his conscience and cleared his
mind. There was no other choice, the Protarians had seen to that a long time ago.

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The song ended and Andrea walked directly to his side, fatigue revealed in every

movement. “I’ve had all the merriment I can stand. Get me out of here.”

“Shouldn’t your departure be announced?” He was as eager to leave as she, but his

role required the question. “You are the guest of honor.”

“I’ve played my part all night, smiled on cue, danced until my feet went numb.

Now I’m going home.”

He motioned toward the nearest exit. She offered a vague excuse to the only person

who questioned her destination. Mal Ton signaled their pilot as they made their way to
the private landing pad on the roof of the event center.

“You don’t enjoy formal galas, I take it?” They stood in the rooftop’s tiny lounge,

waiting for their transport to return.

“I live in a research facility. The opportunities for any sort of socializing are

minimal.” She shook her head and gazed out at the glittering skyline. “Even before I
came to work for Medicort, I wasn’t much for parties.”

She leaned down and unfastened her sandals, groaning as she stepped out of the

high heels. Her position gave him a fabulous view of her cleavage. Had the display
been intentional? He touched her mind and found only relief and a tired sort of longing.
Curious. Now that the opportunity to act upon her lust was at hand, she’d managed to
suppress her desire. Humans made no sense.

As they crossed the roof, he looked out over the city. Buildings sprawled one next

to the other as far as the eye could see. Their shapes and sizes varied, but the urban
clutter marched on relentlessly. Multilevel trams and public shuttles sped between the
buildings, mixed with the occasional private transport. It was all very impressive, if a
bit tragic. Mostly it made Mal Ton long for the lush forests and pristine oceans of his
youth.

He helped her into the passenger cabin and sat in the side row adjacent to her seat.

They both fastened their safety restraints and he notified the pilot they were ready to
leave. After the initial acceleration passed, he continued their conversation. It would
take about an hour and a half to reach the rendezvous location. He was in no hurry to
mist her. It wouldn’t do to have the tranquilizer wear off before he had her safely
stashed aboard his ship.

“The entire space station is reserved for medical research?” he asked.
She rubbed her temples and nodded her head. “Medicort is a nonprofit program

sponsored by multiple governments and private companies. We’re the largest research
facility on, or rather, orbiting the Earth.”

“Why was an off-world site chosen for the program? That can’t be cost-effective.”
She smiled and heat erupted in her eyes. “We didn’t build the station. It was

originally a defense outpost and we took it over after decades of peace made the
operating costs hard to justify.”

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“Rather than abandon the outpost, the military sold it to Medicort?” As he spoke,

her gaze lowered to his mouth and her tongue peeked out, wetting her bottom lip. He
didn’t need to touch her mind to understand her emotions. Her passion had flared
again.

“They tried to donate it with the condition that they have access to all our findings,

but we refused.” She dragged her gaze away from his mouth, focusing on some point
beyond his left shoulder. Why was she resisting her desire now when she’d indulged it
all evening, at least in her mind?

Mal Ton released his safety restraints and crossed his legs at the ankle. Taking

advantage of her averted gaze, he swept her body with a slow, assessing look. The
daring gown hugged her torso, showcasing her full breasts and accenting her trim
waist. Her hips were nicely rounded and a strategic part in the skirt left one shapely leg
bare to mid-thigh. He hadn’t expected her to want him and wanting her was even more
of a shock. Still, this attraction could work to his advantage, if he was bastard enough to
exploit the opportunity.

He’d fucked Nehalem without blinking an eye, knowing it was for the greater

good. So why did he hesitate to seduce this human? Because your desire is real. It didn’t
matter. His people were dying and Andrea was their best chance of finding a cure. He
must do anything in his power—everything in his power to gain access to her
knowledge and expertise.

“I’m sure no one at Medicort has regretted the decision to purchase the facility.” He

let desire burn away the last of his hesitation. The next phase of his mission started right
now.

“There are advantages to our location. First and foremost, we’re in international

space, which is the equivalent of neutral ground. We also deal with many potentially
lethal organisms. If something were to get loose, Earth’s population is protected by our
isolation.”

“But you are not protected by the isolation.” He paused, waiting for her gaze to

return to his face. “I see it in your eyes. You’re lonely.”

Lonely? He had no idea. She’d applied to Medicort while she was still in college

and been accepted in the last semester of her senior year. It was an academic coup. In
one fell swoop she’d joined the ranks of the scientific elite and she’d never been so
excited. Then she arrived on the space station and found her colleagues were twice her
age, most of them with families in residence.

Every other weekend, she shuttled back to Earth and spent time with her family

and friends. Unfortunately, the visits didn’t last long enough for her to connect with a
potential lover, much less develop an intimate relationship. Her opportunities for
socializing weren’t minimal, they were practically nonexistent.

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Aubrey Ross

“There are worse things than being lonely.” She tried her best to sound convincing.

“My work is important. RENA is allowing us to improve the health and save the lives
of countless individuals.”

An odd intensity flashed through his eyes before he controlled his expression. The

transport had stabilized and Mal Ton’s penetrating stare made her feel vulnerable. She
unfastened her safety straps and moved to the wide aisle behind her seat.

“Tell me about this off-world project. Why are you opposed to helping General

Bryson?” Mal Ton stalked her. Moving with savage grace, he stood at the end of the
aisle and effectively caged her with his body.

“That’s a rather odd question for a hired gun.”
“We’ve got time to kill.” He raised both hands and offered a lazy smile. “Unless

there’s something you’d rather be doing.”

She’d spent all night dancing with other men while erotic images of Mal Ton teased

her imagination. He’d done nothing to encourage her interest. Just being near him
aroused her desire. He was strength and agility, intensity and control. She wanted to
peel off his tuxedo and explore his muscular body. They could spend the next few
hours indulging their sexual hunger—then she would never see him again.

A shiver curled down her spine and lodged between her thighs. The idea had her

body’s full support but her heart wasn’t convinced. Recreational sex had never tempted
her before. If physical release were all she needed to drive away the loneliness, her
trusty simulator would have done the trick long ago.

She cleared her throat and crossed her arms over her breasts. “Part of me wants to

help him. How could I not? But this is Pandora’s Box. If I give in to the Protarians,
where will it end? This wasn’t a spontaneous mutation. They’re battling the fallout from
a chemical weapon released during an ongoing war. Why prolong life, or worse yet
create new life, just to have it sacrificed on a battle field?”

“So the women and children affected by the mutations don’t deserve your help?”
“I’m not going to debate this with you.” She turned toward the seatbacks and

looked out over the cabin. “I made my decision, now change the subject. Or better yet
leave me alone.”

Mal Ton moved up behind her and her heartbeat raced. She’d been staring at him

like a ravenous fool. He had to realize what she wanted. His chest warmed her exposed
back and his breath stirred her hair. He grabbed the seatback on either side of her body,
surrounding without touching her.

“Is that what you really want? Your eyes tell a different story.”
She didn’t deny it. What was the point?
“I’m not a gentle lover, Andrea. I’ll fuck you fast and hard, and I wouldn’t stop

until we’re satisfied. You’ll get hot and sweaty and anyone who sees you will know
what we’ve been doing.”

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Seducer

She clutched the seat in front of her, thankful for the support as her knees

weakened and her legs trembled. Could she actually allow a perfect stranger to…

“I won’t play games and I won’t let you change your mind once you’ve begun,” he

went on.

Say it. You need this. You need him.
“All contracts on my planet are verbal. If terms are agreed upon, they are binding.

So make damn sure this is what you want. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”
“If you want me to fuck you, you have to speak the words.”
“I…want you to fuck me.”
He spun her around and pulled her against his chest, his mouth capturing hers with

brutal intensity. As promised, there was nothing gentle in the way he kissed or the
strength of his embrace. His fingers splayed across the back of her head, holding her at
just the right angle so his tongue could plunder her mouth.

She opened for him, accepting the bold thrust of his tongue with a muffled groan.

Slipping her hands inside his jacket, she squeezed his shoulders and explored his chest.
Each hard, sculpted contour was more exciting than the last.

His mouth moved over and against hers, his tongue luring hers. She followed

where he led and reality narrowed to just this moment and this man. Pushing up onto
her toes, she wrapped her arms around his neck, wanting to be closer, needing more.

Clean and undeniably masculine, his scent filled her nose, increasing the spinning

sensation in her head. Intoxicating. He tasted faintly of champagne. She pushed deeper,
tracing the even line of his teeth.

He kept one arm wrapped around her as he loosened her gown with the other. His

warm palm cupped her breast and she reached for the buttons on the front of his shirt.

“Later.” His voice sounded gruff and impatient. She didn’t care. She felt more alive

in that moment than she had in years. Her heart pounded and fire rushed through her
bloodstream. She lifted her arms free of the straps and he guided her hands to the
seatbacks on either side of her. Her bottom pressed against the seat, preventing the
gown from slipping beyond her waist. The position arched her back and brazenly
displayed her breasts. “Gods, you’re beautiful.”

He bent to her breasts, sucking one nipple deep into his mouth while his fingers

rolled the other. Tingles curled through her chest and increased the pulsing between
her thighs. She had never thought her nipples were particularly sensitive. He was
proving her wrong.

She moved her hands and he growled in warning. He actually growled! The sound

shouldn’t have been arousing, but her pussy rippled in response. He suckled and
stroked until she couldn’t stand still. Each firm pull of his mouth sent heat straight to
her clit. She pressed her thighs together and the throbbing increased. She needed him

17

Aubrey Ross

there, between her thighs, touching her, filling her, thrusting so fast and hard she
couldn’t breathe.

He turned her around and tugged her dress over her hips and along her thighs.

“How disappointing.” He whispered the phrase into her ear, his hands cupping both
her breasts. “All night I pictured you naked beneath the gown.”

As if to illustrate his displeasure, he tore one side of her silk panties and then the

other, allowing the damp material to caress her folds as he drew the ruined garment out
from between her thighs. She moved her legs apart without having to be told. No
games, no demurs, she’d asked him to fuck her.

He trailed his fingers down her spine and into the crease of her ass. She arched and

lifted, bracing herself against the seatback. His throaty chuckle drifted to her and his
mouth fastened onto her shoulder. She gasped. He wasn’t biting exactly, more like
controlling her with his teeth. She shivered and the throbbing in her core grew stronger.

His fingers delved between her thighs, circling her opening, teasing her folds. She

panted and wiggled, unable to suppress a breathless, “Please.” He pushed two fingers
into her pussy and she whimpered. This substitute penetration would never be enough.

He speared her with his fingers again and again, each motion rocking her against

the seats. She spread her legs wider, taking his fingers deeper. Her inner muscles
gripped him, thankful for the fullness.

“Come for me. I want to feel your cunt grip my fingers.”
“I can’t,” she cried. “I need you inside me.”
“I am inside you.”
“It’s not enough.”
“It’s all you’ll get unless you come.”
He slapped her ass and she yelped, shocked more by the sudden increase in heat

than by the unexpected sting. His knowing chuckle filled her ears. Holy shit, she liked
being spanked! He pushed his fingers deep and brought his hand down on her ass
again. She craned her neck, trying to meet his gaze.

“Hold still.” He turned her head back around. “I take it this is a new discovery?”
“I’ve never done anything like this before.”
“You are so fucking wet, I’m tempted to…”
His mouth returned to her shoulder and his fingers resumed their steady rhythm.

He was tempted to what? He was still fully dressed, for Christ’s sake. What was he
waiting for? She leaned against the seats and concentrated on the slide of his fingers.
She couldn’t have an orgasm without clitoral stimulation. Should she tell him or simply
reach down and take care of it herself?

“I need—”
“I know what you need,” he whispered. “Stop thinking and feel!”

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Seducer

He eased his hand between her body and the seat, stroking her breasts and belly,

her thighs and hips while his fingers thrust in and out. His mouth caressed and nipped
by turns, soothing and then launching spikes of sensation. She pushed back against his
hand. Tension mounted. Heat built. She panted and cried out. He worked her body
with ruthless skill, pushing her higher than she’d ever gone before. Her pussy burned
and her clit throbbed, desperate for attention.

Driving his fingers in as far as he could reach, he found her clit with his other hand

and pressed it between his thumb and forefinger. Pleasure burst within her, shocking in
its intensity. She cried out and clutched the seatback, shaking violently. Her vision
blurred and her body pulsed with wave after wave of release.

“Nicely done,” he said.
He shifted his clothing and she whimpered. He would fuck her now. He’d fill her

with something more substantial than his fingers. She licked her lips, still tingling from
her powerful orgasm. He raised a slender canister toward her face and released a cloud
of mist.

What the hell? Her panting breaths drew the mist into her lungs and everything

went black.

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Aubrey Ross

Chapter Two

“I can’t believe you fucked her! Do you have any idea how hard it will be to gain

her cooperation now?” Roark Talbot had never been so angry in his life. Mal Ton strode
into the infirmary a few minutes earlier with Andrea cradled in his arms. Her
unconscious body was draped in his jacket and she was naked beneath.

“I didn’t fuck her,” Mal Ton snapped. “Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Why is she naked?” Roark stepped into his private quarters, which were

connected to the infirmary, and snatched a clean shirt off the shelf in his closet.

“Forget clothes.” Mal Ton crossed the small room and placed the woman on

Roark’s bed.

“Put her back in the infirmary!”
“It serves our purposes better if she wakes up in bed.”
“Have you completely lost your mind?”
“Just listen.” Mal Ton snatched the shirt out of his hand and tossed it onto a chair

by the door. “I’ve learned more about this woman in the past few days than you can
possibly imagine. She wants to help us but she is opposed to curing people only to
watch them die.”

“Imagine that.”
“If we can use the cure to negotiate a ceasefire with the Protarians, I think she’ll

come around.”

“But we have to have the cure first.”
“Exactly.”
Roark hated it when Mal Ton agreed with him. It generally meant he had just been

manipulated. “And how do we accomplish that?”

“By forcing her cooperation.”
“You can force someone to mop a floor. Something this complicated—”
“Requires coercion.” Mal Ton nodded his head and swept his gaze over Andrea’s

body. The jacket covered her arms and torso, but her legs and the curve of her ass
peeked out from under the hem. “She’s my pleasure servant and doesn’t even realize
it.” He chuckled.

“What are you talking about?”
“On the transport, before I misted her, she came on to me.”
Roark snorted, glaring at his friend across the breadth of the bed. “Sure she did.”

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Seducer

“Her desire had been smoldering all evening so I stated my conditions and she

agreed to them.”

“Did you explain that she was entering into a sexual contract? Humans don’t

handle sexual relationships the same way we do.”

“I told her all contracts are verbal here on Stilox and once terms are agreed upon

they are binding. I said all this right before I asked her if she wanted me to fuck her, and
yes, I used that word.”

“And she agreed?”
“Why do you sound so amazed? She has been locked on a research station with no

outlet for her sexual appetites.” Mal Ton pulled his jacket away and revealed her naked
body. She was resting on her side, her legs slightly parted. Roark looked at her curvy
hips and the pink folds peeking out between her legs. “She stood there and let me
finger-fuck her until she came all over my hand. Touch her pussy. She’s probably still
wet.”

Restless and hardening fast, Roark moved away from the bed. “So what’s your

brilliant plan?”

“She feels sorry for the Protarians and thinks all Stilox are ruthless barbarians.”
“I wonder where she got that idea.” He scrubbed his jaw with his hand and paced

the width of the room. “How much time did Bryson have to poison her thinking? Does
she know who you are?”

“She had several vidconferences with Bryson, and from what I overheard on the

transport, he didn’t get far. She has no idea who I am or where she’s been taken. My
plan just sort of came together while she—came around my fingers.” He chuckled as he
repeated the word. “She needs an outlet for her sexual frustration and we need her
expertise. There’s no way her human morality will allow her to accept a simple barter,
so we’ll be a little more creative.”

“What woman would want to barter for sex? Females prefer an emotional

connection with their partners.”

“You’re going to give me lessons on the needs of females?” Mal Ton laughed. “I’m

good at two things.”

“Fucking and killing. Yes, I know.” Roark really wasn’t in the mood for one of Mal

Ton’s diatribes. “I know you have no intention of killing her, but I’m still unclear how
fucking her is going to gain her cooperation.”

“I’m not going to fuck her, at least not at first. I’m going to threaten to fuck her. I’ll

tell her she can either assist you in the lab or submit to me in the bedroom. I’ll confess
that I’m one of the barbarous Stilox who kill for pleasure and share their wives.”

“We don’t share our wives. We—”
“Then I’ll explain that you are my Protarian prisoner.” His gaze gleamed with

amusement and anticipation. Mal Ton was obviously pleased by his plan. “That will

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Aubrey Ross

give the two of you a common ground. She’ll trust you and assist you because you are
being forced and abused by your horrible Stilox captor.”

“We look enough alike to be brothers. There’s no way she’ll believe I’m Protarian.”
“She knows nothing about our world. She thought Bryson was human.”
Roark glanced at the bed and shook his head. “I hate dishonesty.”
“We need her. And she might not understand it yet, but she needs us.”
“Somehow I doubt she’ll see it that way.” Roark had studied her dossier while Mal

Ton was gone. Andrea Raynier was ambitious and self-assured. She was used to others
playing by rules she established, not the other way around. She would resist surrender
regardless of how much Mal Ton believed she needed to submit.

Still she had willingly entered into a sexual contract with Mal Ton. There must have

been some connection between the two. It would be damn interesting to watch them
wear each other down.

“Bryson set her cover story in motion before he realized the wrong party took the

prize,” Mal Ton said. “She’s entirely at our disposal.”

Roark couldn’t help but smile. “Why do I listen to you?”
“Because I understand what’s at stake better than anyone on Stilox or Protaria.” He

sounded anything but proud of the claim. “Wake her up.”

Roark filled a mister with the counteragent to the one Mal Ton had administered.

Even with a transpace jump, the trip from Earth to Stilox took forty-three hours. A
splitting headache frequently accompanied this combination of chemicals so he added
an analgesic to the mix. He grabbed his portable bioscanner and studied the readouts
before he administered the mist. Everything appeared normal.

“Is she all right?” Mal Ton asked. “She has been out quite awhile.”
“She’s fine. Be ready to grab her if she tries to run. Stranger things have happened.”

After spreading Mal Ton’s coat back over her body, Roark held the canister under her
nose and expelled the mist. She moaned and turned her face away. He watched the
readouts carefully. Her heart rate increased and her respiration accelerated, but both
remained within the acceptable range.

Pain forced Andrea from the darkness. Her brain seemed to buzz within her skull.

Raising both hands to her head, she groaned and pulled air into her lungs. “Where am
I?” Her voice sounded raspy and thin.

“Just relax. Let the compound work. Your head will clear in a moment.”
She didn’t recognize the man’s voice so she tried to open her eyes and light stabbed

into her brain.

“Lights down fifty percent.”
“Thank you,” she whispered automatically, trying to clear the cobwebs from her

mind. “Who are you? Did you bring me here?” Images rolled through her memory,

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Seducer

disjointed and confusing. The gala. Smiling faces and sparkling champagne. Had she
drunk too much? Mal Ton stood behind her on the transport, thrusting his fingers deep
into her pussy while she clutched the seatbacks and cried out in pleasure.

“Is your head clearing?”
She tried to focus on the stranger. What was his connection to Mal Ton? “Are you

avoiding my questions?”

“Apparently so.” He offered his hand and helped her sit. “Would you like

something to drink?”

“I’d like some answers.” She clutched a heavy black coat against her breasts and

panic shot through her system. She was naked! Where were her clothes? Her gaze
swept the room. She had never been here before. The bed was rather large for the small
space and the sleek furniture contoured to the walls. She spotted Mal Ton lounging
against the wall to her left and another spurt of adrenaline sent her heart racing. He’d
crossed his arms over his chest and a salacious smile curved his lips. “That man
drugged me! Where the hell am I?”

“Lights full.” She blinked repeatedly while her eyes adjusted. “I’m Doctor Roark

Talbot. Commander Adoha posed as your bodyguard in order to—”

“Drug and kidnap me!” Andrea finished for him. Despite the pounding in her head,

she crawled off the other side of the bed and searched for anything she could use as a
weapon. “I want him arrested.” Her gaze darted to the door and the room spun in a
sickening rush. She reached blindly for support, the dizziness not hindering her tirade.
“If you return me to the Medicort space station immediately, I won’t bring charges
against you. Mal Ton on the other hand…”

She wasn’t given the opportunity to complete the threat. Mal Ton bound across the

bed and pinned her against the wall with the weight of his big body. The doctor
watched in uncomfortable silence, disapproving of the commander’s actions perhaps
but unwilling to interfere.

Information came back in muddled fragments. Mal Ton had introduced himself as a

commander. She still didn’t know what he commanded!

Anger burning through the fog in her mind, she turned the full force of her hostility

on Mal Ton. “There is no way you’ll get away with this. I have family and friends.
Director Sanchez will call the president when Medicort security can’t locate me.”

“You’re allowing professional arrogance to cloud your thinking.” He held up his

hand to ward off her instantaneous objection. “How was I able to walk into a top secret
facility and fly away with you?”

Realization kicked her in the chest and she sagged against the wall. No one was

going to rescue her. This wasn’t the start of an interplanetary incident. She’d been
traded to these aliens like chattel.

“I was set up.” Tears stung her eyes so she quickly averted her gaze. “Sanchez

won’t call the president because they both know exactly where I am.”

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“You’re beginning to see the picture.”
“Who are you?” She could no longer tell which was pounding harder, her heart or

her head. The wall was cold against her back and his body was incredibly hot. “Am I
still on Earth? How long was I unconscious?”

He shifted his stance, fitting his hips more tightly against her belly while leaning

back so he could look into her eyes. “You know the answers, Andrea. Think back. None
of this is really a surprise.”

“You’re one of them, one of General Bryson’s Protarians?”
“General Bryson doesn’t represent the Protarians, he is a Protarian. He allowed you

to believe he was human to make you feel more comfortable until he could determine
what your decision was likely to be.” Brushing his knuckles across her check, he teased
her with featherlight touches. “But you’re on the right track.” He chuckled. “You’re
even in the right star system.”

Her anger swelled with a far different focus as he soothed her with his touch. She’d

been betrayed by her own government. The people she trusted for protection and
representation had traded her like a commodity for land grants and renewable energy.

“Where does my family think I am?”
“They were told you accepted the Protarians’ offer and that your cooperation will

result in a colonization opportunity that could well save your planet. They realize
everything about the project is classified. Any mention of your whereabouts or the
nature of your assignment will be considered treason.”

“Such a tidy little trap.” She shook her head, disgusted by her gullibility. “How

could I have been so stupid?”

“Why are you being so stubborn?” Roark drew her attention away from Mal Ton.

“That’s a far better question. I don’t condone kidnapping, but I don’t understand why
you’ve withheld your assistance from us.”

Shifting her gaze to the other man, she ignored the heat swirling through her

abdomen. What was it about these men that made her pulse race? The doctor’s appeal
was more subtle than the commander’s. Roark’s features were less exotic, but his skin
possessed the same warm caramel tone. He could easily pass for human if it weren’t for
his jewel-bright eyes. His dark hair was shorter than Mal Ton’s, flowing away from his
face in distinct waves.

“I won’t be bullied into giving you what you want. So you’re both wasting your

time.”

Mal Ton caught her chin and guided her face back around. “You have only begun

to understand the situation. Reserve your decision until you have all the facts.”

“Give me back my clothes.” Fear, anger and desire twisted through her gut. She

needed to shove him away, get some distance between their bodies, but she didn’t trust
herself to touch him. No man had ever ignited her senses as easily as Mal Ton.

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Seducer

He leaned in close, his warm breath teasing her skin. “You’re in no position to make

demands.” To further illustrate his point, he dragged the coat out from beneath her
clutching fingers and tossed it aside. He captured both of her wrists and pushed her
arms against the wall. His knee pressed between her thighs and he stayed back just far
enough so he could see her entire body. “I’m not Protarian. I’m a ‘savage’ Stilox. How
did Bryson put it, we pride ourselves in our brutality and share our women?”

“I don’t understand.”
“I know you don’t. So listen carefully. The Protarians were desperate enough to

negotiate with your government—without your consent—and I’m ruthless enough to
steal you from the Protarians. You are now a prisoner of war. Life as you knew it ended
when I walked into your lab. The sooner you adjust to your new reality, the longer
you’ll survive.”

Everything within her rebelled against his claim, but she couldn’t ignore the logic.

The ease with which he’d made her disappear was testimony to her helplessness. “You
need me too badly to kill me. That alone ensures my survival.”

“It ensures your survival.” His brows arched, accenting the challenge in his tone. “It

doesn’t ensure your safety. You’re currently in a military complex housing roughly two
hundred men, many of whom have not seen a female in several years.”

Her gaze darted to Roark. He was trying not to look at her, but she recognized lust

when she saw it. How long had it been since he’d been with a woman? “Why did you
bring me here?”

“Where else would I bring you? The rest of our planet was abandoned a long time

ago.”

“That’s not what I meant. I know what the Protarians expect from me. What do you

hope to gain?”

“Our needs are much the same.”
Roark made a sound suspiciously like a snort and Mal Ton turned on him without

releasing Andrea. “If you’d been able to find a cure, she wouldn’t be here! Don’t
provoke me with your Protarian pride.”

“The mutations on Protaria have been a fraction of what you’ve seen here on Stilox.

You can’t pretend the situations are similar. Stilox is lost. Everyone knows it. Let her
go.”

“Even if I wanted to help you, I couldn’t,” she objected. “Everything I need for

genetic transcription is in my lab at Medicort.”

With a guttural sound part growl, part curse, Mal Ton turned back to Andrea.

“While you were dancing at the gala, my men packed up your lab. As soon as you’re
ready to cooperate, you’ll have everything you need.” He searched her gaze for a long,
silent moment then asked, “Are you a woman of your word?”

The absurdity of his question made her laugh. She couldn’t help it. “I don’t see how

that can possibly be relevant. You don’t have to trust the word of your prisoner.”

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Aubrey Ross

“Just answer the question. Do you honor your word?”
“Under ordinary circumstances, yes.”
“Good.” His gaze narrowed as he said, “By your own vow, you are my pleasure

servant and I intend to enjoy your body for the duration of your stay on Stilox.”

She stared into his shimmering eyes, too stunned to object as he pulled her arms

above her head. “What are you talking about?”

“I told you all contracts on Stilox were verbal and legally binding. I told you I

wasn’t a gentle lover, that I would fuck you hard and fast and I wouldn’t stop until we
were satisfied.”

“Then you drugged and kidnapped me! Ever heard of duress?”
“You didn’t pause to consider my ulterior motives while my fingers were—”
“You’re insane.” She recovered enough to tug against his hands. “You can’t expect

me to honor that agreement. I had no idea… You’re holding me against my will.”

“Commander,” Roark’s sharp tone drew both of their heads around. “If you intend

to continue this, would you please take her to your quarters? I’d rather not watch you
tame her.”

Mal Ton pulled her away from the wall and dragged her arms to the small of her

back, turning her to face the doctor. “Would you like to help me tame her? I know your
taste in women. She pretty much fits the bill.”

Lust flared in the doctor’s gaze and Andrea went wild. They couldn’t mean to tag

team her. It was too horrible to consider—wasn’t it? She’d been kidnapped because of
her mind, not to be fucked like a common whore! Her nipples hardened and heat
crawled across her skin. What the hell was wrong with her? She was a scientist… She
was also a woman and these two seemed far more interested in her gender than her
occupation.

Holding both her wrists with one hand, Mal Ton caressed her breasts with the

other. “Just look at her. How long has it been since you touched a real woman, never
mind one this fine?”

“Stop it!” Roark took a step toward them, a muscle working in his jaw. “She doesn’t

want this and I will not be a party to rape.”

“You will be whatever I tell you to be,” Mal Ton snapped. “Don’t forget your place.

The choice is simple. Lick her pussy or taste my lash.”

“I’m not afraid of your whip.” Roark raised his chin and glared at the commander.
Mal Ton laughed. “You’re not afraid of my whip because you’ve learned to crave its

kiss.” He twisted his hand in her hair, pulling her head back against his shoulder.
“What about our spitting Terran kitten? Do you think she’ll enjoy being whipped?”

“You depraved Stilox fralt! There’s no reason to hurt her.” Roark moved closer,

resentment radiating off him in waves.

“If you do what you’re told, all she’ll suffer is an orgasm. She’s angry and confused,

but she’s starting to cream.” Mal Ton nipped her earlobe. “Aren’t you, little wild cat?

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Would you like Roark to lick your pussy? He’s been my ‘guest’ here for almost a year.
I’m sure he’s good and hungry for fresh, silky cream.”

“Is this why you brought me here?” She trembled as she watched the battle raging

in Roark’s gaze. Why should she care if he was a prisoner too? They were going to fuck
her. “Earth has plenty of sexual companions who would be happy to meet your needs.”

Mal Ton ignored her words as easily as he suppressed her struggles. “I’ll even let

you choose. Do you want Roark to make you come or would you rather feel my lash?”

She licked her lips and looked into Roark’s angry eyes. “Will he do it?” The doctor

nodded stiffly, his lips pressing into a grim line. “Do you want to…?”

With two long strides, he stood before her and framed her face with his hands. “If

you welcome my touch, I want nothing more.” He lowered his head toward hers and
his exotic scent filled her nose. Clean and subtly spicy, the smell sent heat cascading
through her body.

“No kissing.” Mal Ton stepped back, taking her with him. “Her mouth is mine.”
Roark didn’t argue. He brushed his lips along her jaw and nibbled his way down

her neck. This couldn’t be real. She was dreaming or in some drug-induced altered
reality.

“Why are you doing this?” Each brush of Roark’s fingers eroded her desperate

denial.

“Because you said I could,” Mal Ton whispered into her ear.
Shaking with reluctant anticipation, she faced the truth. She could react, she could

make choices but she was no longer in control.

Mal Ton held her breast while Roark suckled. She closed her eyes against the rush

of desire his firm lips released. Mal Ton moved his fingers to her other breast, rolling
her nipple while Roark descended. She could hardly breathe. If Mal Ton wasn’t holding
her upright, her knees would have buckled.

She’d never been impressed with sex before Mal Ton insinuated himself into her

life. Work had given her the perfect excuse to keep herself isolated. She knew she was
wet. Her pussy had melted as soon as Mal Ton pushed her up against the wall. This was
madness. She couldn’t just stand here and…

Roark sank to his knees and pressed his face against the juncture of her thighs. She

turned her head to the side, shocked by the sight of a stranger touching her so
intimately. His hands grasped her hips as his tongue pushed into her slit. He explored
for a moment before curling around her swollen nub. She whimpered and shame
threaded through her pleasure. How could she enjoy this? She should feel horrified and
abused, but those feelings were lost in the searing heat and tingling pleasure.

“Does she taste as delightful as she smells?” Mal Ton continued caressing her

breasts while the doctor circled her clit.

27

Aubrey Ross

“I’d forgotten…” Roark urged her thighs apart and delved deeper. “So soft. So hot.”

His tongue slid into her core and he wiggled his head back and forth, drawing her
cream directly into his mouth.

Tension gripped her abdomen. Distinct pulses spiraled along the walls of her

passage and she shook against his mouth. Her body was trapped between surrender
and demand. She luxuriated in the pleasure yet was desperate to be filled. As if sensing
her frustration, Mal Ton reached down and pinched her clit. She screamed as a violent
orgasm tore through her. Hard spasms contracted her cunt and bowed her back.

Roark kept his mouth centered over her opening and Mal Ton used his skilled

touch to drag shudder after helpless shudder from her tingling body. By the time Roark
struggled to his feet, she had just about caught her breath.

Then Mal Ton delivered the next shock. “Let me taste her,” he said, and her dazed

brain wasn’t sure what he meant. Roark moved in close, pressing his chest against her
breasts and Mal Ton let go of her arms.

No sooner had she pulled her arms free then Mal Ton embraced Roark. He grabbed

the back of the doctor’s hair and angled his head. “Don’t resist me now. You’ve done so
well.”

Roark opened his mouth and Mal Ton outlined the doctor’s lips with the tip of his

tongue. Andrea couldn’t help but watch. Their faces were mere inches away. Roark
closed his eyes as Mal Ton searched out her taste. She was shocked by the carnality of
the act and her pussy gave off a delayed throb. It wasn’t a kiss exactly, but she couldn’t
help wondering what other sexual acts Mal Ton and Roark exchanged.

“Oh yes,” Mal Ton sighed, and pushed Roark back. He spun her around and raised

her face until she looked into his eyes. “Your body is no longer your own. Submit to
pleasure or submit through pain, it makes no difference to me. If you cooperate with
Roark while I’m gone, I will allow you to choose between pleasure and pain. If you
refuse to assist him in anything he requires, your reward will always be pain. Do you
understand?”

“Can he require me to fuck him?”
“Andrea, I would never—”
“You will submit to anything he requires of you because he must submit to

anything I require of him.” Mal Ton’s gaze never left hers as he explained.

“And it might entertain you to watch Roark fuck me, knowing he doesn’t want to?”
“His pants can barely contain his cock. I don’t think wanting you is a problem. You

both belong to me. Roark has accepted his role. I suggest you do the same.”

Roark watched Mal Ton walk from the bedroom and released his pent-up breath.

Andrea’s taste still lingered in his mouth. The soft texture of her pussy against his lips
had been the most arousing sensation he’d experienced in…perhaps ever! Her skin was
flushed and her wide hazel gaze flew back to him as the door shut behind Mal Ton.

28

Seducer

“We have to get out of here,” she cried.
He shook his head. “Don’t you think I’ve tried? Even if we escaped the complex,

Stilox is a wasteland. We’d have to steal a ship. They’d shoot us out of the sky before—”

“There has to be something we can do.” She crossed her arms over her breasts, her

expression reflecting her misery. “I will not give in to that…that cretin!”

Her luscious body was entirely too tempting. He snatched the shirt from where Mal

Ton had tossed it earlier and handed it to her. “This might be easier to accept if I show
you.”

His body protested mightily when she tugged the top down over her breasts. It

didn’t matter. Mal Ton had already chosen the role of lecherous bastard and he played
the part more convincingly than Roark ever could.

“You’ve really been here—with him—for a year?” She finger combed her hair away

from her face and rubbed her arms. Was she cold or nervous? He’d have to check the
climate controls.

He dug through his closet and found a pair of exercise pants with a functional

drawstring. They would have to do until he could locate something closer to her size.
She turned her back as she stepped into the garment and tightened the drawstring
around her waist. The inseam was too long, but at least she was covered.

“If he said it’s been a year, it’s probably been a year. The first few months were a

blur. It’s only been since I agreed to cooperate that I’ve had any freedom at all.”

They’d have to keep her on a very short leash. All she’d have to do is wander into

one of the common rooms in the adjoining building and see other females to realize Mal
Ton was full of shit. Intimidating her was one thing, but two hundred sex-starved
soldiers? What had Mal Ton been thinking?

Roark held out his hand. “Let me show you what we’re up against.”
Her pink tongue brushed over her lower lip as she placed her hand in his. Why

hadn’t Mal Ton let him kiss her? Gods, he wanted to feel those lips pressed against his
and to suck her tongue into his mouth.

He’d thought her eyes were going to pop right out of her head when Mal Ton

kissed him. Didn’t men on her homeworld kiss? Not that Mal Ton made a habit of it.
He’d been demonstrating his dominance in a way she couldn’t misunderstand. Still, her
body had tensed against his and he’d almost felt her temperature rise.

Roark shook away the remnants of his desire. Everything Mal Ton did was meant

to push Andrea into his arms. She needed to see him as a compatriot, a companion in
her time of need, which meant Roark had to keep his hands to himself.

Blowing out a shaky breath, he led her across the bedroom and into the short

corridor beyond. The doorway on his right opened onto his private launch pad. It
would be a bit hard to explain why a Protarian prisoner had access to a fully armed
cruiser so he hurried her toward the door at the end of the hall.

“Where are we going?”

29

Aubrey Ross

“I’ll show you.” All anyone could see from the observatory platform was

destruction and rooftops so he seldom went up there anymore. The view was perfect
for his purposes today, however, so he motioned her into the small lift.

She exited the elevator in silence and crossed to the exterior wall of the transparent

dome. Horror reflected in her eyes and she raised her hand to cover her mouth. He
turned and glanced out at the familiar vista. Twisted metal and charred rubble
stretched toward the crimson horizon. Dead and decimated, Stilox lay in ruins.

“How?”
“Three hundred years of war, most of it fought on or above Stilox.” You’re Protarian,

he reminded himself. Tell the story from their prospective as much as you can without choking
on the words. “They gained an early advantage so we brought the fight to them. We
forced those Stilox dogs to dig in and dig deep. Campaign followed campaign and still
they wouldn’t surrender. So we just kept pummeling them.”

“Why? What in the world could have been worth…this?” She swept her hand

toward the destruction.

“How the war began is passionately debated. Mal Ton is the only one I know who

was alive when it all began and even he isn’t sure what really happened. He only
knows what he was told.”

“Mal Ton’s lived through the entire war?” She shook her head as she heard her own

words. No wonder he was jaded. “Wait a minute. Just how old is he?”

“Before the war, and everything that has happened since, both Protarians and Stilox

lived about five hundred years. I gather from your reaction this is not true of humans?”

Guilt flashed in her expressive eyes and she moved toward the other side of the

platform. “Most humans live around one hundred years.”

“Most humans?” She didn’t respond to the question and Roark didn’t push her. He

hadn’t imagined her odd reaction though. Andrea Raynier was hiding something.

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Seducer

Chapter Three

Pausing outside General Bryson’s office, Daniel Keller straightened his jacket and

composed his expression. The general was sure to be enraged by the news he was about
to impart and Keller couldn’t really blame him.

More often than not Bryson was a reasonable man. Keller always knew where he

stood with the general. That couldn’t be said of far too many of Protaria’s leaders. Keller
stepped beneath the scanner and waited for the security system to verify his identity
before his presence was announced inside the office.

Bryson deactivated his data terminal and shoved back from his desk as Keller

crossed the room. “What were you able to learn?”

“I confirmed it, sir. The crew ejected before the explosion and the Stilox have Ms.

Raynier.”

Bryson’s dark gaze iced over and he shook his head. “Why were you able to

confirm her abduction in a matter of hours yet you and your entire staff were unable to
prevent it?”

Keller didn’t react to the jibe. Yes, he was Chancellor Howyn’s head of security, but

he’d had nothing to do with Andrea Raynier’s abduction. Her safety was to have been
turned over to him as soon as she arrived on Protaria. She’d never made it that far.

He proffered a thin datapad with one hand and tucked the other behind his back.

This was where Bryson went from surly to irate. The general snatched the device from
his outstretched hand and paged through the images.

“Adoha again! How does this bastard stay a step ahead of us?”
It was a rhetorical question and Keller didn’t offer an opinion. Bryson had been

playing cat and mouse with Mal Ton Adoha longer than Keller could remember. Just
when Bryson thought he’d won the upper hand, Adoha snatched the rug out from
under his feet.

“I don’t suppose you know where they’ve taken her?”
Again Keller ignored the provocation in Bryson’s tone and simply answered the

question. “There are only three climate domes on Stilox. They have to be holding her in
one of the three.”

“If they took her to Stilox.” Suspicion hardened Bryson’s expression. “More and

more I feel the hand of a saboteur. Whenever I get close to my objectives, someone jerks
me back.”

“I understand how you might feel that way, but how would they secure her on

Protaria? The risk of escape would be too great.”

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Aubrey Ross

“I think you’re underestimating Adoha. Stilox sympathizers are springing up all

over Protaria. And that prick gets bolder every day. I still can’t believe he was at the
ball, dancing with Nehalem. If you hadn’t shown me the vid, I never would have
believed it.”

“I thought Adoha looked dashing turned out in velvet and lace.”
Bryson sneered. “Oh you’re hilarious. It’s odd that you discovered his image two

days after the ball when Adoha was halfway to Earth. All of this helpful information
keeps arriving just after its usefulness expires.” He crossed his arms over his chest and
leaned back against his desk. “If I were the suspicious type, I might start wondering if
the timing was intentional.”

“I believe my record speaks for itself.” Or it used to until they started feeding him

misinformation. “How shall we proceed?” he asked after a moment of strained silence.

“I built a state-of-the-art research facility, assembled a host of eager assistants and

amassed a practically inexhaustible budget for Andrea Raynier. Then her stubborn
protestations send the situation careening out of control.” He sounded almost sad.

“Her treatment at the hands of the Stilox is likely to be far different than it would

have been if she’d accepted your offer,” Keller pointed out.

Bryson nodded but his expression remained troubled. “We cannot afford to lose her

to those radicals. We’re out of time. Were you able to delay the arrival of the test
subjects?”

“Three of the four groups are awaiting word from me. The first ship had already

left Earth when my message arrived.”

“Typical.” Bryson waved Keller toward the door. “Go assemble your team. We

have got to find her. Meanwhile, I get the delightful privilege of informing your boss
that our best hope for a future has been captured by the Stilox.”

Keller had kept Chancellor Howyn apprised of the situation every step of the way.

Bryson would tell him nothing he didn’t already know.

Pausing for a quick bow, Keller left Bryson’s office and started counting. If he made

it to ten before one of them contacted him, he’d be amazed. He hadn’t been able to
figure out if they used technology, a large network of operatives or clairvoyance to
assure the accuracy of their information. He only knew they put Bryson to shame.

He rounded a corner and found Nehalem leaning against the wall. Nehalem was

always posing. Regardless of the situation, she found the position that best showcased
her considerable charms.

With a beguiling smile, she threaded her fingers through his then depressed the

area on his armband that jammed audio scans. The security feed would show them
together but it wouldn’t record their conversation.

“We’ve decided it’s in our best interest if Andrea Raynier remains with the Stilox

for now,” Nehalem said without preamble. “Make up whatever excuse you like but do
not locate her.”

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He’d suspected Nehalem was one of the mysterious them ever since he’d spotted

her in Adoha’s arms. Nehalem was many things. Stupid was not one of them. “I need to
know more if I’m going to cooperate. Are you aligned with the Stilox or is this no more
significant than your ambitions coinciding with theirs?”

“You know what you need to know.”
“You’re Bryson’s wife, for gods’ sake. Why do you need me?”
“Chancellor Howyn trusts you implicitly. We are more interested in that connection

than your work with Bryson.”

That surprised him. If they considered Bryson incidental, then their influence

stretched far beyond anything he’d imagined before. “Who do you represent? I need to
know why I’m agreeing to make myself look incompetent.”

“Andrea is where she needs to be to save us all, but my husband would die before

he’d allowed Mal Ton to gain the upper hand.”

He hadn’t missed her ready use of Adoha’s given name. “You led him right to her,

didn’t you?”

With a secretive smile, she pulled him to her and kissed his mouth. As her lips

moved over his, her nimble fingers released the security feed. She stepped back and
said in a calm, clear voice, “I’ll see you tonight.”

* * * * *

Roark stood in front of the ruined landscape, his face turned toward the setting sun.

His quiet dignity was a welcome contrast to Mal Ton’s overbearing masculinity. Rich
brown hair, smooth caramel skin and flashing teal eyes, his coloring was nearly
identical to the commander’s. Even the angular arrangement of his features called to
mind the other man. So how could he be an entirely different species?

“Was Stilox colonized by Protarians?” She crossed her arms over her breasts and

rubbed her tense muscles, determined to stop shaking. Emotional outbursts were a
waste of energy. It was time to gather information and devise a strategy. Compassion
shone from Roark’s eyes as he turned to look at her and her lips started trembling.

“It’s more complicated than colonization, but yes, we share a common ancestry.”

He touched her face, his thumb brushing over her lips. “Would you like a few minutes
alone?”

She shook her head, unable to speak through the lump in her throat. Isolation was

the last thing she wanted. He wrapped his arm around her waist and she rested her
forehead on his shoulder. It wasn’t a lover’s embrace, simply the comfort of warmth
and touch. He stroked her hair and she placed her hands on his back, unwilling to move
closer yet unable to let go.

Time passed as she drew comfort from his patience and the gentle glide of his

fingers through her hair.

33

Aubrey Ross

“I won’t let him hurt you.” He cupped her cheek and tilted her face until their gazes

met. “You were in stasis for two days. If your appetite hasn’t returned, I should give
you a nutrient mist. Your body is hungry even if your mind hasn’t unraveled the
signals.”

Her body was hungry all right, hungry for more of his hands and his mouth and

the pleasure these men commanded. “My body doesn’t seem to care what my mind has
to say. I’ve never been this out of control.” Was there a physiological cause for her
spiked libido? Were they doing it intentionally?

His fingers trailed down her cheek before he lowered his arm to his side. “I won’t

make excuses for Mal Ton, but I don’t regret kissing you.”

She turned toward the lift before he could see the blush creeping up her neck.

Kissing? He’d devoured her pussy with his lips and his tongue, lapped up her cream
like a ravenous cat.

He caught her arm in a careful hold, preventing her retreat. “I’m sorry. I should

have kept that thought to myself.”

He still hadn’t apologized for taking advantage of… It wasn’t like Mal Ton had

given Roark a choice. He was as much a victim as she. Was she a victim? Rather than
dwell on the issue, she eased her arm out of his grasp and continued across the
observation platform.

“I know you were upset by what happened,” he persisted, “but I didn’t want him to

hurt you.”

Heaving a frustrated sigh, she stopped again. “Are you certain he would have

followed through with his threat?”

“Mal Ton doesn’t make idle threats. He would have flogged you and teased you

until you came.” He moved into her peripheral vision as he went on. “Would you have
been less humiliated if he’d stimulated your senses through pain? The result would
have been the same. I assure you.”

She looked away from his caressing gaze, shocked by the heat swirling through her

body. There was no way she could have an orgasm while being—flogged. So why was
her pussy throbbing? Pressing her thighs together, she was determined to ignore the
disconcerting reaction.

Lust had eclipsed logic when she met Mal Ton, and Roark only added fuel to the

fire. She wanted to slip to her knees and use her mouth to thank him for the pleasure
he’d given her. She didn’t understand the bizarre wantonness, but it showed no sign of
letting up.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She stepped into the lift before she spoke again.

“Escape is obviously going to be more complicated than I first thought so I’ll have to
find a way of convincing Mal Ton to release me.”

A smile curved the corners of Roark’s mouth. “You’re going to motivate Mal Ton?”
“He needs to understand that I’m far more trouble than I’m worth.”

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“You clearly have no concept of your true worth.” The lift door slid open and he

took her hand, leading her through the bedroom and into the adjoining office. “Let me
give you some more information before you decide to launch a battle of wills against
Mal Ton.”

She slipped her hand out of his and paused before two clear panels, which allowed

her to see into the rooms beyond the office. On her left was a well-organized infirmary.
“I had no idea all this was here.” Six beds had been arranged in two rows with an aisle
down the center. Scanners, microscopes and a collection of semi-familiar equipment
identified the room on her right as a research laboratory.

“They scavenged the deserted cities before they sealed the domes. This is still

barbaric compared to the conditions on Protaria, but the facilities are adequate for your
needs.” He warded off her objection with an upraised hand. “Your body is depleted.
You must have sustenance. Once your strength returns, you can determine your next
move.”

He opened the door to the infirmary and motioned her inside. Floor-to-ceiling

cabinets lined the far wall. The doors were transparent, displaying rows, stacks and
sliding bins of supplies. The floor gleamed from a recent scrubbing and the faint scent
of antiseptic drifted on the air.

“Were you captured to care for their wounded or to find a solution to the genetic

mutation?” A touch of resentment hardened her tone, making the question sound more
unfeeling than she had intended.

“Both.” He opened one of the cabinets and selected several items. “I was one of a

large team of scientists working on the problem. The fact that I am also a physician
made me more valuable to the Stilox.”

“Have your people tried to rescue you?”
A patient smile parted his lips and made his eyes twinkle. “We’re in the middle of a

war. People disappear every day and the governments on both sides have to prioritize
their limited resources.”

How could he be so nonchalant? Hadn’t anyone been willing to fight for him? Your

government is just as bad. They paved the way for your abduction and traded your future for

land grants and renewable energy.

“What about your family? Don’t you have someone—?”
“Eighty years into the war the Protarians resorted to biological weapons. The initial

outbreak wiped out millions, but it fired up the Stilox like never before. My parents
died in a subsequent outbreak and my only brother sacrificed his life for the Cause. I
was engaged at one time, but my fiancée claimed I was obsessed with my work and
chose to bond with my Second instead.”

“Your Second? What does that mean?”
His expression tensed and dread erupted in his eyes. He’d obviously said

something he hadn’t meant to say. Peeling back the seal on the package in his hand, he

35

Aubrey Ross

held up a small, wand-like device. “This will dispense the nutrient mist I mentioned
earlier. It’s absorbed painlessly through your eye. You’ll feel stronger within minutes.”

She grasped his wrist as he moved the dispenser toward her face. “Why are you

ignoring my question? What is a Second?”

With obvious reluctance, he lowered his arm and said, “The practice began on

Stilox many centuries ago. No one is sure if Stilox physiology necessitated the custom or
if their physiology adapted to their social structure.”

“That didn’t answer my question.”
“When a couple bonds, a Second male is included in the union. His role is to protect

the female whenever her primary mate is gone.”

Andrea shook her head and indulged in a humorless laugh. “They share their

women, just like General Bryson said.”

“The woman is only bonded with her mate. The Second plays a supporting role

unless her mate is killed or it’s time to conceive. Some men prefer being a Second and
they can be a designated Second to several females.”

“The Second has more than one pseudo-wife?” She felt her eyes widen owlishly

and forced her lids to relax. “Are contribution from two males necessary for a Stilox
female to conceive?”

“Yes to both questions. Men who prefer a less binding commitment agree to serve

as a Second. He offers support and companionship for the most part, but his
participation is required when the couple wants a child.”

Unbelievable. Her mind had just begun to absorb the information when a realization

rocked her back. “Wait a minute. You said your fiancée chose to bond with your
Second. But you’re Protarian.” Suspicion unfurled and she moved away from him,
putting as much distance between them as the narrow aisle allowed.

“The Stilox custom was adopted by many Protarian soldiers. They were gone for

long periods of time so the arrangement benefited everyone. The wife was less likely to
lose both her mate and her Second to the war.” He licked his lips then met her gaze. His
expression seemed forced, almost calculated. “My personal motivation for pursuing the
arrangement was a bit unusual. My fathers were Stilox and my mother Protarian so my
physiology requires a Second.”

“Then the complication lies with the male not the female?”
He chuckled and approached her slowly. “We don’t consider it a ‘complication’, but

yes. There are two distinctly different types of sperm and one of each is required for
conception. Most believe this characteristic evolved as we became a triploid species.”

“You had two fathers.” The practice wasn’t that different from the blended families

of Earth. Still, she found it scintillating.

“The custom is still met with a certain resistance on Protaria, but every bonding on

Stilox includes a Second.”

“Is the wife allowed to…sleep with her Second whenever she feels like it?”

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Seducer

“If that were the case, she would have two mates. I won’t pretend it never happens,

but the Second is only supposed to have sex with the wife when her mate is present.
The couple is free to include the Second in their lovemaking as often as they desire. The
wife is more likely to conceive when she is relaxed and comfortable with her men.”

“Oh my god,” she leaned against the end of one gurney, tantalizing images teasing

her mind. “I think that’s worse.”

“You can imagine sharing your body with two men as long as they take you

separately?”

“I can’t imagine sharing my body with two men period.”
One of his eyebrows quirked and his lips curved with the hint of a smile. “You

don’t have to imagine, Andrea. You can remember.”

He stood inches from her, his hands resting on the treatment table on either side of

her hips. The heat from his body sank through her clothes and fanned the flame of her
desire. Mal Ton had teased her breasts while Roark used his mouth to arouse her. And
it had resulted in one of the most powerful orgasms she’d ever felt.

“Hold still.” His hand cupped the side of her face and he raised the dispenser again.
Didn’t he feel this smoldering hunger? With the exception of invading her personal

space, his touch had been respectful and professional. Was the infirmary under
surveillance? Laughter bubbled up within her. Did she want him to be inappropriate?

The mist discharged, shattering the sensual haze. She blinked reflexively. As he’d

promised, there was no pain. “Is this your primary form of sustenance?”

“Not when we can help it. There’s still plenty of food on Protaria. We just have to

‘borrow’ supplies from time to time.”

His thumb feathered across her lips. He released her face and stepped back. Again

his phrasing had grouped him with the Stilox. Suspicion knotted her stomach. A year
was a long time to be held captive, especially when he had free run of his surroundings.

He crossed the infirmary and tossed the dispenser and its package into a trash bin.

“What did Bryson tell you about the current situation? Were you given case studies and
detailed reports?”

“I’m not going to give in to Mal Ton so it doesn’t matter.”
For a long time he just stared at her, his features revealing nothing. “Do you want

him to fuck you? Is that why you won’t even consider helping us?”

“Us?” Emboldened by her suspicion, she advanced across the floor. “You keep

lumping yourself in with the Stilox.”

“The situation on Stilox is far worse than Protaria, but my people are dying too.”

He held his ground, undaunted by her sudden hostility. “You didn’t answer my
question. Do you want Mal Ton to fuck you?”

Did she want Mal Ton or did she just need to indulge her sexuality? She’d been wet

and aching since she left Medicort. Still, she wasn’t sure it was the man and not just the
prospect of being…

37

Aubrey Ross

Roark caught her upper arms and pulled her against his body. His gaze searched

hers without rancor or accusation. “It’s not a complicated question.”

“I’ve been alone for a long time.” Why was she confessing this to a veritable

stranger? Tension mounted. Sizzling anticipation mixed with heated awareness. He slid
one of his hands up her arm and grasped the back of her neck. His touch was firm and
expectation shimmered in his expression. “You didn’t ask if I wanted to…have sex. You
asked me if I wanted Mal Ton.”

“He claims you came on to him in the shuttle. Did you?”
She licked her lips, amazed that she felt no shame, just an odd restlessness. “I didn’t

think I’d ever see him again. I wanted to abandon myself completely and then get on
with my life.”

“Why settle for one indulgence when you can savor the exploration?” His deep

voice wrapped around her like silk threads, cocooning her in temptation.

“Is that what you’ve done?” She had to break free of his spell, disentangle herself

from this intoxication. “Have you used your captivity to explore your sexuality?”

“I resisted in the beginning. My pride and my principles wouldn’t allow me to bow

to his manipulation. But weeks turned to months and I finally accepted the fact that it
didn’t matter who found the cure as long as people stopped dying.”

Had he just described her future? Would she subject herself to months of Mal Ton’s

seduction as he peeled away her resistance layer by layer?

“Andrea, you need to remember we no longer have the luxury of time. The tactics

Mal Ton used on me are nothing compared to what he’s prepared to do to you. This is
literally a life and death situation.”

She twisted out of his hold and brushed her hair out of her eyes as anxiety pushed

through her restlessness. “Your people unleashed this plague intentionally. They just
didn’t expect to be affected by the fallout.”

“We’re getting what we deserve? Is that your rationale?”
It was a moral debate as old as time itself. Did the innocent deserve to suffer for the

actions of their society? “The actual outbreak is contained? You’re no longer spreading
this from person to person?”

“We have an effective vaccine. Mal Ton gave it to you while you were

unconscious.”

“That’s not why I asked.” Though the thought had crossed her mind. “Bryson led

me to believe this crisis involved genetic mutation, not a viral pandemic.”

“Rather like poliomyelitis, this lentavirus creates a highly contagious onset illness

then degenerates or mutates various biological functions over a period of years. The
initial outbreak is long over. Now we’re combating the genetic abnormalities left behind
by the virus.”

“Are the abnormalities always the same?”

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He shook his head, his expression calm and encouraging. “The results are almost

random. Depending on where the RNA attaches to the DNA strand, the results can be
as simple as a skin rash or as profound as grotesque disfiguration.”

Every question she asked revealed the weakening of her determination. People

were dying. Did it really matter how the mutation began?

With an exasperated sigh, she gave herself a firm mental shake. “Mal Ton

kidnapped me! I cannot give in to him, or everyone who wants access to these
treatments will be tempted to do the same.”

He accepted her assertion with a stiff nod. “I have duties awaiting me. You’ll have

to stay in my office unless I’m here to supervise you.”

“What if I need the facilities in your quarters?” she asked with a sly smile.
“I’ll set the motion sensor to activate the door.” Following him into the office, she

looked around the tidy room as he adjusted the security settings. “I’ll have someone
bring you a tray in a couple of hours if I haven’t returned by then.” He stepped away
from his desk and returned her smile. “Behave yourself.”

Moments after Roark left, Andrea was inundated by unnerving questions. What

had caused the pain buried in the depths of Mal Ton’s eyes? Was the same
determination driving Roark’s easy charm? Roark had admitted he was half Stilox. Was
he even a prisoner? Something about the situation just didn’t feel right.

If this was an elaborate setup, they were playing their roles to perfection. They had

identified her vulnerabilities and thrust her into a situation nearly impossible to resist.
She didn’t want anyone else to die and the only human who would know if she
compromised her principles was her.

Still, they had no right to manipulate her like this. It was infuriating and unfair. So

why were her senses humming with anticipation?

* * * * *

Mal Ton studied the holoprojection of Sanctum, the capital of Protaria, as he had so

many times in the past few weeks. The mutants were hiding right under Chancellor
Howyn’s nose. Mal Ton was confident of his intel as well as his instincts, he just hadn’t
been able to pinpoint their location.

Fane, the enigmatic leader of the Mutant Underground, kept his people well

protected and their movements untraceable. The mutants had no official alliance with
Stilox, more like an informal understanding. When Fane’s goals corresponded with Mal
Ton’s, they exchanged information and support.

“Any luck?” Roark asked as he joined Mal Ton beside the holoprojector.
“Fane tends to be literal. He calls a mutant a mutant. But I’m beginning to wonder if

the underground part is figurative. I’ve had teams searching the catacombs for weeks
and they’ve found no sign of habitation.”

39

Aubrey Ross

“Many people are able to hide their transformation until close to the end. Fane

could be using those in the early stages for recon and communication.”

Mal Ton deactivated the display and faced Roark. “People seek out the Mutant

Underground because they have no other choice.”

“Why are you so intent on finding him now?”
“I spit in the face of the star system’s biggest bully. Bryson is going to come after me

with everything he’s got. I need to know what, if any, help the Mutant Underground is
going to offer. For all I know they’re a handful of outcasts who have crawled into a hole
to die.”

“You don’t believe that or you wouldn’t bother searching the catacombs.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and stared off into the distance. “I’ve never even

seen Fane and my men are tired of chasing shadows. But my instincts tell me we want
the Mutant Underground on our side. I just can’t let this go.”

“The easiest way to catch their interest will be to offer them hope.”
Mal Ton nodded. Hope was in short supply for everyone. “And where is our

miracle worker?”

“Locked in my office. She can return to my quarters if she likes but the infirmary

and lab are inaccessible.” Roark flashed a smile filled with wily mischief. “I accidentally
left my workstation logged in to my research files. She’s sleeping now but she’ll get
bored soon enough. There’s nothing else for her to do in there.”

“Is it wise to give her access to your files?”
Roark shrugged. “She can’t get beyond the data directory. Anything restricted

requires a retinal scan.”

Mal Ton crossed to a bank of security monitors and activated the feed to Roark’s

office. As Roark had said, Andrea was asleep on the sofa, her head pillowed on her
folded arm. “Hours of solitude might help her comprehend the situation.”

“That’s the plan. Food will be delivered and I’ll spend the day in the archives. If

she’s half the scientist we’ve been led to believe, she should be full of questions by the
time I return.”

Mal Ton nodded, carnal hunger echoed through his body as he stared at her

peaceful image. “Is she still refusing to cooperate?”

Color had returned to her cheeks but purple smudges shadowed her eyes. How

long would she resist? What would it take to tame her? She’d cried out so sweetly and
responded so eagerly while Roark licked her pussy. Just the memory of her aroused
scent and evocative taste sent blood rushing to Mal Ton’s groin.

He had to stay focused on the mission, regardless of his cock’s demands. This was

more than just physical attraction. The fate of his people depended on her. He must
help her see the futility of her opposition. There was no other choice for either of them.

“She’s far more interested than she pretends,” Roark said, “in the genetic anomalies

as well as sexual exploration.”

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Mal Ton looked at his friend as the fire in his blood channeled down a different

path. “What makes you say that? Have you been playing without me?”

“There’s a definite awareness between us, but I don’t think I excite her the way you

do.”

“That’s because you’re too damn nice.” He returned the vidscreen to its standard

setting and shot Roark a sidelong glance. “If she doesn’t offer you something useful by
the end of the day, I’ll have to punish her. That was the deal. She assists you in the lab
or she submits to me each night.”

Roark didn’t look pleased by the reminder. “She’s not ready for pain.”
“There are many forms of punishment and our Terran kitten is a lot stronger than

you give her credit for.”

* * * * *

Nehalem Bryson pulled the hood of her cloak more tightly around her face as she

crept down the narrow ally between two crumbling buildings. Her clothing was
threadbare and nondescript. She couldn’t afford to draw attention to herself. Pressing a
perfumed cloth to her nose only partially concealed the stench of rotting garbage and
decay. Her shoes slid on an unseen substance. She didn’t stop to investigate.

Keep moving and don’t make eye contact with anyone. Fane had taught her those basic

principles after recruiting her for the Mutant Underground. Following his advice
helped her avoid conflict but it did nothing to calm her fear. Her heartbeat thundered
and sound was amplified until her ragged breathing seemed to rage like a tempest.

Two turns and a downward sloping tunnel brought her to an unmarked door. She

expelled a ragged sigh. This was the first time she’d made the half-mile trek without
encountering beggars or thieves.

A man stepped out of the shadows as she approached the door. She held out her fist

and he scanned her hand before allowing her to pass. An ident-nanite was deeply
embedded in her flesh, the tiny entry wound long healed.

The interior of Fane’s headquarters was only slightly more hospitable than the slum

surrounding it. Cold stone walls and exposed beams gave the “great hall” a medieval
feel. And Fane liked it that way.

Hostile stares followed her as she hurried across the cavernous room. Lounging in

chairs and sprawled on sofas, Fane’s followers congregated around the massive hearth.
Firelight cast their cadaverous features into stark relieve. With translucent skin and
glowing amber eyes, they sent a chill down Nehalem’s spine. They didn’t trust her and
she couldn’t blame them. Only Fane understood her motivation for helping the
Underground.

Another sentry guarded Fane’s private domain. She lowered her hood as she

neared but the guard remained in front of the door.

“He’s resting,” the guard muttered.

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Aubrey Ross

“I won’t take long.”
“He’s not to be disturbed.”
“He’s expecting me.”
The door slid to one side. Sean Wylie slipped through the narrow gap then closed

the door behind him. “I thought I heard your voice.” He offered a boyish smile that
didn’t quite reach his jet black eyes.

Compassion gripped Nehalem’s heart. Sean’s eyes had been green the last time she

saw him. Like a genetic barometer, the mutation’s progress could be gauged in their
eyes. First the irises darkened, then the blackness spread and became incandescent.
Finally the eyes shriveled and disintegrated, leaving the mutant to rely entirely on their
clairvoyance to “see”.

“Let’s go upstairs,” he suggested.
Ordinarily she wouldn’t have considered prolonging her stay but something was

wrong. Fane had never refused to see her before.

The stairs groaned as they made their way to the second story. She could feel the

others watching, but she didn’t glance their way. This was a mutant sanctuary. She was
intruding, callously reminding them of the society indifferent to their suffering.

“What’s wrong with Fane?” she asked as they reached the landing at the top of the

stairs.

“Not here.”
He motioned her toward a room halfway down the hall. Why was he being so

cautious? What would make him fear his own people?

The bedroom was small and gloomy. His gaze flashed and a cluster of candles on

the nightstand ignited. She shivered again. Sean’s abilities had been minimal two weeks
before. As she’d feared, the mutation was escalating.

“Fane is dying and this place is about ready to rip itself apart.” He leaned against

the locked door, his gaze boring into hers. “Half of them want to remain hidden and
wait for a cure.”

“And the other half?” She was almost afraid to ask.
“Max Nelson is garnering support for an overt attack.”
She shook her head as the ramifications of such a strategy scrolled through her

mind. The Protarian government had no idea how many mutants were still alive.
They’d convinced themselves the few who had survived the initial outbreak sought
refuge on Stilox. Fane had used the Protarians’ misconception to his advantage when he
organized the Mutant Underground. The mutants were protected by the Protarians’
indifference. Fane had been able to influence decisions and shape outcomes while
remaining invisible.

“Bryson will unleash his ‘cleansing fire’ without hesitation.” Her voice was hushed

and regretful. “How does Max expect to combat the sheer number of the Protarian
military?”

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“This is Max we’re talking about.” Sean’s caustic tone and stiff posture made his

dislike obvious. “He doesn’t think beyond his hatred or care what happens to any of
us.”

“Then why would anyone follow him?”
“What choice do they have?” Amber fire burst within his eyes and his features

hardened. “Look at me. Most of us won’t live long enough to see a cure. Why not take
out as many of the Protarian bastards as we can along the way?”

She placed her hand on his upper arm as she assessed his tense features. “Are you

thinking of backing Max?” Sean’s mother had brought him to the Underground as a
child. She and her mate had succumbed to mutation so she suspected it was just a
matter of time for their son.

“Without Fane…” He didn’t need to finish the thought. Fane was the mortar

binding the Mutant Underground. There was no one else who could maintain order.
The Underground was far too volatile.

“We can’t give up yet,” Nehalem insisted. “I led Mal Ton to the Earth woman.

Everything is moving according to plan.”

“I’ll do what I can to dissuade the others, but we have to save Fane. Without him

there is no force on this planet strong enough to control Max.”

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Chapter Four

Despite her determination not to get involved, Andrea absorbed the details of

Roark’s research like a sponge. So many elements of the situation held unique
possibilities and Andrea thrived on challenge. She was halfway through the first case
study when she realized she’d been set up. Why was the documentation in Standard?
Roark had left the workstation active, knowing she wouldn’t be able to resist reading
his work.

Anger spiked through her and she shoved away from his desk. She would not

follow his trail of bread crumbs like an obedient pet. Pacing the office and staring
through the observation windows only made the information more tempting and
allowed her simmering senses to boil.

Do you want Mal Ton to fuck you? A barrage of unwanted images accompanied the

question. Naked and trembling, she knelt before Roark. He caressed her face with
gentle hands while he rocked his cock in and out of her mouth. Behind her, Mal Ton
thrust, filling her pussy completely again and again. She wanted them, needed them to…
What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she control this desire?

With a frustrated groan, she shook away the fantasy, but the longing remained. She

was well and truly trapped. Her family believed she was off saving an alien world. No
one would rescue her. Desperate for a distraction from the hunger pulsing through her
body, she glanced at the desk and cursed her captors. They had planned this perfectly,
leaving her absolutely nothing to do but familiarize herself with the crisis.

Understanding the situation didn’t ensure her participation. It was as good a

rationale as any so she returned to the desk. She was still paging through the files when
a dour-faced soldier delivered a tray of food. Curled up in Roark’s large chair, she
nibbled at the contents of the tray. The video segments and scanner records held far
more appeal than the simple fare.

Roark had painstakingly traced the course of the mutation, noting possible

connections and similarities between patients. He’d documented failed attempts at
arresting its virulent spread as well as noting several compounds that slowed the
transformation’s progress. They weren’t looking for another treatment. They expected a
cure.

“Find anything interesting?” Roark miraculously kept the smugness from his tone

when he returned later that evening.

“You’re a jerk and you know it.” She didn’t look up from the screen inset in his

desk. Concentrating on the information had kept her desire more or less suppressed for
the past few hours. She couldn’t afford a relapse now. “Do both Stilox and Protarians
possess a triple helix or is that the genetic adaptation you mentioned last night?”

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“Only the Stilox have triploid physiology. Is that important?” He sat in one of the

chairs facing her and she raised her gaze.

Her memory hadn’t exaggerated his physical appeal. His wavy dark hair begged

for her fingers and she wanted to feather kisses across his smooth, caramel-colored skin.
Were his eyes always this bright a teal or did they darken to emerald when he came?
Heat curled through her, building with each downward turn. Her lips tingled, her
nipples hardened and the muscles in her abdomen clenched. A distinct rhythm erupted
in her core as she imagined the fullness of his cock… She was in serious trouble. How
could she combat this intoxicating need?

Clearing her throat, she dragged her gaze away from his handsome face.

“Everything is important until I understand the crisis.” Fortifying herself with years of
training and professional detachment, she cut through the sensual haze. She must have
current samples and more specific scans. “It says here there’s a formula that hinders the
mutation’s development. Why was that path abandoned?”

“It wasn’t. The inhibitor is vital. Without it, all of us would be dead. Unfortunately

the compound only slows cellular mutation and prolongs the inevitable. We need a
permanent and complete genetic reversal.”

She nodded, lost in thought. If she could identify the DNA segments responsible for

the mutation or better yet transcribe the entire strand back to a point before the
mutation began. She bit back the questions flooding her mind. He must not realize how
close she was to capitulation.

“Even if I can find a way to arrest the mutation—and I’m not saying I can—I can’t

do it in response to Mal Ton’s threats.” She scooted to the edge of the chair and folded
her hands on the desktop. “He has to release me and begin a legitimate negotiation.”

Roark pushed to his feet and raked his hair with both hand, smoothing the wavy

strands away from his face. “This isn’t a game, Andrea. Mal Ton is ready to do
whatever it takes to gain your cooperation. You can’t imagine what this conflict has cost
him. You had a glimpse of what’s in store for you unless you give me something
useful.”

“If I allow myself to be forced into this, I’m setting a precedence for—”
“To hell with your justifications.” He slammed his hand down on the desktop and

leaned toward Andrea. “Can you do it or not?”

“It doesn’t matter as long as I’m a prisoner.”
“Every day you squander locked in this battle of wills costs someone else their life.

How can you justify that?”

Before she could respond to his passionate outburst, the office door slid open and

Mal Ton stood framed by the threshold. “May I presume from your frustrated
expression that she’s accomplished nothing today?”

“Last chance, Andrea.” Roark’s voice was tight as he straightened and jerked down

his shirt. “Tell me something—anything—and he won’t touch you.”

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Aubrey Ross

Mal Ton chuckled. “But she wants me to touch her. Haven’t you figured that out?”
Andrea pushed back from the desk and stood. Mal Ton was right, but how did he

know? Had he given her something to ensure her receptiveness or was this some latent
desire she had yet to explore? Her body responded instantaneously each time he
touched her. Sexual tension pulsed between her and Roark as well, but he hadn’t tested
the attraction.

“Now or never, kitten.” Mal Ton’s lips parted in a salacious smile and lust ignited

in his luminous eyes. “Once this starts, you’re mine for the night.” He took one long-
legged step toward her. “I’ll be deaf to your protests and ruthless in my expectations of
you.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to help you.” She pushed the tall-backed chair between

them, her gaze darting to Roark. As before, he watched in disapproving silence but
made no move to hinder the commander. “If you release me, maybe we can work
something out.”

“Maybe is not good enough.” Mal Ton shoved the chair aside and captured her

wrist. “Negotiations are closed until tomorrow. Let’s go.”

“Go where?” She tugged against his grasp with both hands but it made no

difference. He dragged her out from behind the desk and headed for the door. “Where
are you taking me?”

“Roark, accompany us.” He tossed the command over his shoulder without turning

around.

After an instant of blinding terror, she assessed her surroundings, watching for

unusual markings or anything that would identify one corridor from another. A sound,
a smell, surely there was something unique in this complex. Stark gray walls and
smooth marbled flooring made each passageway look the same. She continued
resisting, but the slipper-like shoes Roark had given her skidded across the floor despite
her best efforts to halt their progress.

Mal Ton pulled her along as if she weighed nothing. She dug her fingernails into his

forearm. He didn’t even flinch. Pausing before a door indistinguishable from the others,
Mal Ton waited for a scanner beam to pass over his face. The panel recessed into the
wall and he pushed her into the adjoining room.

Roark’s quarters had been sparse and orderly while this room was… Decadent was

the only word that came close and even it didn’t seem quite right. Draped in burgundy
and green, a bed dominated one wall. Ornately carved chests and gilt-framed paintings
brought to mind an era long past. A small sitting area was arranged near another
doorway. Still, her gaze returned to the massive bed.

“When and if you share my bed, you will not only be willing, you will be eager for

my touch.”

Snapped back to reality by Mal Ton’s sharp words, she looked up into his stern

face. Despite the command in his tone and the firmness of his hold, his gaze caressed
hers, promising pleasure not pain. He was such a contradiction. Even at his most

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aggressive, he hadn’t hurt her, had only compelled her body to accept sensations her
mind resisted.

His hold eased as he drew her across the room toward a door she hadn’t noticed

before. As if she moved through a dream, she placed one foot in front of the other,
struggling for a frame of reference, something to connect this experience with reality.
She’d imagined all the ways they would share pleasure, yet now that the moment was
upon them, uncertainty all but smothered her desire.

“Roark doesn’t think you’re ready for pain.” Mal Ton’s voice whispered across her

nerve endings as surely as if he had touched her. “I think pain will free you to enjoy
pleasure.”

As if his words were not disturbing enough, the door slid open, revealing a room

right out of the dark ages. “Oh my god,” she whispered behind her hand, fear and
anticipation blending in an intoxicating rush.

Manacles hung suspended from one wall while a decorative grill had been

mounted to another. Padded foot holds and hand pegs protruded from the grill at a
variety of heights and angles. A person could be secured in almost any position. The
purpose of the whipping post and the low, padded bench was easy to deduce, but she
couldn’t imagine how several of the apparatus would be used.

The door slid closed behind Roark before Mal Ton spoke again. “Have you ever

experimented with restraint or sensory deprivation?”

“No.” She’d seen vid snippets of people indulging in such play. The BDSM

community had pleasure centers in every major city on Earth.

“How many different lovers have you fucked? Have they all been men?”
“Do you keep track?” she snapped. “It’s none of your damn business.”
“My life has been significantly longer than yours,” he said with the hint of a smile,

“but the answer might surprise you. If you don’t include the people I’ve trained, I have
only had eight lovers.”

“Trained?” She made a sweeping gesture with her hand. “Is this your training

room?”

“Yes.” It was an emotionless statement.
“You think being a prostitute is less offensive than being promiscuous?” Her gaze

swept the room again, picturing Mal Ton and his trainees writhing in ecstasy.

He chuckled. “I don’t fuck my clients. I teach them how to overcome their

inhibitions so they can find pleasure with a lover of their choice. Get undressed.”

“Forget it.” She turned toward the door but Mal Ton caught her arm. “I’m not one

of your clients.” She tugged against his hold.

“No, you’re my pleasure servant, contractually obligated to give me whatever I

want.”

“That again.” At some silent signal from Mal Ton, Roark moved up behind her.

“What are you doing?”

47

Aubrey Ross

“Helping him undress you.” Mal Ton raised her arms while Roark dragged her

shirt off over her head. She twisted and kicked to no avail.

“You’re both crazy! How in god’s name is this helping the mutants? Isn’t that why

I’m here?”

Mal Ton paused, his hands still clasping her wrists. “Shall we go to Roark’s lab and

begin work on a cure?”

She licked her lips. Could she stall them long enough to…
“Silly kitten.” He untied her pants and pushed them past her hips. “Now I have to

punish you for deception as well as disobedience.”

“I’ve done nothing to deceive you,” she cried.
“Your expressions are incredibly easy to read. You were wondering how long you

could put me off if you pretended to cooperate.”

She did have a dreadful poker face, but she suspected it was something more. Mal

Ton always seemed to know what she was feeling. “Are you clairvoyant or empathic?”

“Both to some extent.” She hadn’t expected him to admit it so readily.
They urged her toward one of the odd-looking pieces of furniture. This one

consisted of two padded rails with tubular supports to keep it from toppling over.
Nudging the back of her knees, Roark sent her forward onto the lower rail. He spread
her legs wide and held them steady as flexible bands extended from the outer edge of
the rail and wrapped around her ankles.

Mal Ton rotated the frame forward and the upper rail pressed against her torso

beneath her breasts. Roark adjusted one of her arms while Mal Ton stretched out the
other. Three flexible bands secured each of her arms to the rail, one above her shoulder,
one above her elbow and the last at her wrist.

“This puts your luscious mouth at the perfect level for fucking.” Mal Ton grabbed

the back of her hair and pulled her face up until she looked into his eyes. “It also angles
your hips just right for the introduction of anal play. I don’t really need to ask if you’ve
ever had a cock up your ass, do I?”

“Is that how you mean to punish me?” The question sounded strangled. “Do I have

any other choice?”

“Now you want to negotiate?” He glanced at Roark then returned his full attention

to her. “What are you offering? Your body is already mine.”

His harsh expression and imperious tone seemed out of place. She was tied down

and helpless. He could take whatever he wanted and she couldn’t stop him. So why
was he willing to hear her offer? For a long moment she searched his gaze. Deep, bright
and guarded, she found no hint of emotion in his eyes.

“I would rather pleasure you with my mouth than have you—hurt me like that.”
One of his eyebrows arched as a smile parted his lips. “You’d rather suck my cock

than have me fuck your ass? Is that what you’re trying to say?”

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Why did he have to be so crude? And why did his graphic words launch bursts of

sensations into places she didn’t want to think about? “Yes.” Maybe if she got used to
hearing those words, they wouldn’t affect her anymore. “I’ll suck your cock if you leave
my ass alone.”

He stroked his fingers across her cheek and outlined her lips with his thumb. “I

promise not to fuck your ass tonight if you willingly suck me instead.”

She craned her neck to look at Roark. “You can’t do it either.”
“I will never do anything you don’t want me to do.”
“You can’t make that promise,” Mal Ton said. “You’re not in control. I am.”
The two men silently glared at each other while Andrea tried to decipher Mal Ton’s

offer. “If you’re not going to fuck my ass, what are you going to do?”

“Anticipation increases the pleasure. Now stop talking or I’ll gag you.”
Despite his expressionless mask, she definitely detected a note of amusement in his

tone. She gritted her teeth and fought back the rush of fury. How dare he make light of
this? He wasn’t the one trussed up like a pagan sacrifice.

She wasn’t sure if they were communicating telepathically or using silent signals,

but they started touching her at exactly the same time. Roark trailed his fingers up her
spine as he stepped in front of her. Mal Ton moved behind her and squeezed her ass.
While Roark’s fingers teased with featherlight touches, Mal Ton’s touch was firm and
possessive.

Roark reached beneath her and cupped her breasts as Mal Ton rotated the

contraption farther forward. She gasped and stiffened, but the straps held her snuggly
in place. The top of her head nestled against Roark’s crotch. Mal Ton was right, all she
had to do was raise her face and he could slip right into her mouth.

Both men were still fully dressed. She couldn’t really see Mal Ton but no discarded

garments had gone flying. Warm fingers brushed her inner thighs. Weren’t they in the
wrong places if she was going to…

“You’re already wet.” Mal Ton traced her slit, the easy slide of his fingertips

proving his point. “Just talking about ass-fucking made you hot.” He chuckled. “Are
you sure you’d rather suck me?”

How was she supposed to answer that? No please, shove your cock up my ass. If your

penis is as big as the rest of you, I’m sure it will only hurt—like hellfire!

She wasn’t sure if he heard her sarcastic thought or he was just tired of waiting for

her answer. His palm came down across her ass cheek and she yelped, straining against
the bands. “What the fuck was that for?” The obscene word sprang readily to her lips.

He didn’t answer her indignant question. Pushing two fingers into her slick

passage, he spanked her other cheek. The sting from the first slap had mellowed to an
almost pleasant heat when he delivered the second blow. She cried out louder and her
inner muscles tightened around his fingers.

“That’s right.” He pulled back and thrust in hard as he returned to the first side.

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Aubrey Ross

“Oh!” It was part anger and part shock. Heat spread out and penetrated deep,

triggering odd little flutters. He repeated the tantalizing sequence—slap, thrust and
pause. Roark rolled her nipples and sensation spiraled from her chest to her pussy just
as Mal Ton’s palm connected again.

“Don’t fight it. You’re almost there.” He twisted his wrist, his long fingers moving

in a teasing spiral as he pulled nearly out. Her core rippled and tingled. How was this
possible? He rubbed her burning skin, accenting the heat, as he pumped his fingers in
and out of her throbbing pussy.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feelings gathering low in her belly. If

he would just touch her clit. One little squeeze and she’d go off like a rocket. Instead, he
gathered her cream and painted her tightly puckered anus. His fingers circled,
venturing deeper with each pass.

“You said you wouldn’t—”
He pushed inside as his other hand lightly spanked her mound. Pleasure burst with

breath-stealing intensity. She gasped and trembled as he pulled his fingers out,
prolonging the unexpected spasm. As the pulsing sensations began to fade, he pushed
back in, saturating her senses with a fresh wave of release. Another firm tap against her
mound made both her passages tighten with greedy abandon. The teasing slide of his
fingers maintained the staggering release. On and on he drove her—spank, thrust,
spank, thrust, passing the pleasure back and forth between her mound and her ass.

She screamed as her inner muscles clenched so hard she saw stars.
Mal Ton nipped her bottom and finally withdrew his fingers. “Tell Roark you like

being spanked or I’ll get my flogger.”

She was ready to admit to the new discovery when an odd beeping interrupted her.

Roark stepped back and she heard Mal Ton speaking rapidly in a language she didn’t
understand.

He spoke louder and Roark replied in the same language. What was going on and

why didn’t they want her to know about it?

She heard the door slide open and close. Roark rotated her so she knelt on the

bottom rail then released the bands. “What happened? Why did he have to leave?”

“Are you disappointed?”
His hostility surprised and annoyed her. Rather than adding fuel to the fire, she

snatched up her pants and covered her nudity. He tossed her the shirt then moved to
one of the cabinets built into the walls.

“What are you doing?” She found her shoes as he loaded a small case with items

she couldn’t see because of the angle of his body.

“He’s not sure how long he’ll be gone so he wants me to prepare you.”
“Prepare me for what?”

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Roark gritted his teeth in exasperation. Watching Mal Ton’s fingers slide in and out

of Andrea’s squirming body, knowing the commander triggered each shocked gasp and
cry of pleasure had been utter torment. Roark desired Andrea, ached to participate in
her sexual awakening. But the situation resonated with unpleasant memories.

Baylie, Roark’s ex-fiancée, had succumbed to the dark passion of a man very much

like Mal Ton. She had urged Roark to include his Second in their lovemaking with
greater and greater frequency until Roark realized he had been displaced. Standing by
passively while Mal Ton dominated Andrea brought the past surging back to the
surface.

“Can’t you guess what the commander expects?” He snapped the case shut and

turned around, kicking the cabinet closed with the heel of his boot. “The night is far
from over. Mal Ton will likely return.”

After spending half the afternoon watching Andrea on the surveillance feed, Roark

had convinced himself she would agree to work on a cure. He didn’t need empathic
receptors to know what she was thinking. Her expressive eyes told him she had been
genuinely moved by the case studies and intrigued with the possibilities. And still she’d
submitted to Mal Ton rather than help with the genetic crisis.

But she wants me to touch her. Haven’t you figured that out? Mal Ton’s mocking words

echoed through Roark’s mind. Did she want Mal Ton or did she just long to be
touched? Roark gripped her upper arm and led her toward the door.

“Why are you angry with me?” She twisted out of his grasp, her gaze narrowed

with annoyance.

“I’m not angry,” he grumbled.
“The hell you aren’t. You of all people should understand I have no control over

how my body responds to… What was I supposed to do?”

Help me with the crisis! He kept the comment to himself. Part of him understood her

resistance. They were manipulating her. “Let’s go back to my quarters. This place
makes me uncomfortable.” He didn’t share Mal Ton’s need to dominate his sexual
partners. Roark enjoyed sharing pleasure with his lovers, not overwhelming their
inhibitions. Still, Andrea seemed to need a controlling hand.

He rushed her through Mal Ton’s bedroom, unwilling to watch the hunger

smoldering in her eyes. Mal Ton was a typical Second. The kind of man women lusted
after, played with for a while then realized they needed a deeper connection, a more
nurturing relationship. At least that was how it was supposed to work.

Roark had the stable, supportive personality women desired in a mate. So why did

Andrea seem indifferent to him? Because you’re too damn nice. Maybe Mal Ton was right.
She was surrounded by dramatic circumstances. If he ever hoped to cut through the
din, he had to be more assertive, perhaps not aggressive like Mal Ton, but more decisive
in his seduction.

“If you’re not angry with me, what’s bothering you?”

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“Memories.” He knew she’d presume he meant the indignities he was supposed to

have suffered. She didn’t need to know her attraction to Mal Ton kept taking him back
to his fiancée’s betrayal.

“I’m sorry. I should have realized.”
They didn’t speak again until they reached his office. He scanned open the door to

his bedroom then heaved an audible sigh. A sneak attack really wasn’t his style. “Have
you ever heard of a butt plug?”

She looked at the case tucked under his arm with obvious suspicion. “Why do you

ask?”

“He wants me to put one in you. I’m supposed to demand your cooperation or put

you in restraints. I’d much rather explain what is expected of us and work through this
together.”

“Can’t we just say we did and not go there?” Her hopeful smile made him chuckle.
“It stays in until he gets back.”
She gasped and took a step backward. “What if he doesn’t come back tonight?”
“He’s going to com me when he knows more about the situation. Until he tells me

otherwise, you’re supposed to get used to the fullness.”

“This is a form of training, isn’t it?” She fidgeted, looking everywhere but into his

eyes. “He intends to…do that to me despite his promise.”

He found her aversion to graphic words endearing. Her fear, however, needed to be

elevated. “Why are you so uncomfortable with the thought of that?”

“Have you ever had a cock up your ass?” If her crimson blush was any indication,

she’d blurted out the question without thought. “That’s none of my business. Forget I
asked.”

“The answer is…sort of.”
Her eyebrows scrunched and she finally met his gaze. They still hadn’t entered his

bedroom. He stood in the doorway and she stayed a step back, just out of reach.

“All right. You answered, so explain what ‘sort of’ means.”
“I’ve never had a man fuck me, but one of my female lovers enjoyed using toys,

especially when my cock was in her mouth.”

“I see.”
He hadn’t thought it was possible for a blush to deepen, but her cheeks suddenly

looked as if she’d been slapped. Rather like her smooth ass cheeks had appeared after
Mal Ton spanked her. Roark shook away the arousing thought and reached for her
hand.

“Mal Ton never used you like that?” She didn’t resist as he pulled her toward him.
Damn! He’d slipped out of character for a moment. “Mal Ton can be a ruthless

bastard, but to my knowledge he has never raped anyone. I’m not attracted to men. So

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he found other ways of tormenting me.” It was an awkward recovery at best, but she
seemed to accept it.

He kept the door open until she brushed past him. “Where did Mal Ton go?”
Was there any reason not to tell her? There was no way she could use the

information against them, so he said, “After a ship full of test subjects.”

“Test subjects?”
“Bryson was so confident in your abilities he arranged test subjects for your use.”

He followed her into the bedroom and the door slid closed behind him.

“The only test subjects I would need are those affected by the mutation.”
Roark nodded. Thank gods, Bryson was his own worst enemy. “That’s why Mal

Ton went after the ship. Bryson was lying to you. We’re not sure what he wants from
you, but it has little to do with reversing the mutation.”

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Chapter Five

“We’re too late, sir,” Vi Pone reported. “There are no life signs.”
Mal Ton scanned the wreckage for the third time, refusing to accept his lieutenant’s

assessment. According to Mal Ton’s informant, there should have been twenty test
subjects on the transport along with a standard crew of six. So why did the scanners
only detect fifteen bodies?

“Why were they so far off course?” Mal Ton mused. “There isn’t a spaceport

anywhere near here.”

“We’re sixteen kilometers south of a military base.”
Mal Ton accepted the reminder with a stiff nod. Bryson might have been reluctant

to bring his guests in through the front door, but he had extended the invitation openly.
Something or someone brought this ship down and Mal Ton doubted it was the general.

Fidgeting in his chair, he studied the readouts, determined to give the mission his

full attention. Still, images of Andrea lingered in his mind. Her skin had turned such a
vivid pink, and cream slicked her inner thighs as he worked his fingers in and out of
her tiny hole. She’d cried out so sweetly, unable to deny the pleasure his touch
unleashed.

He’d barely begun to “punish” her when he’d been called away. If her immediate

response to the spanking was any indication, Andrea was a natural submissive. So few
Stilox women were content in the passive role. War had reshaped their thinking, made
them self-sufficient, more assertive and less willing to entrust their pleasure to anyone
else. It wasn’t that Andrea lacked self-confidence or spirit. He just sensed her need for
domination.

This speculation was pointless. He would investigate his suspicions more

thoroughly once he returned. Ignoring the uncomfortable pressure in his crotch, he
turned toward the pilot. “Get us as close to the debris as you can. We can’t account for
eleven people. I want to know why.”

With uncharacteristic optimism, Mal Ton had set off with a minimal crew. He’d

wanted to leave plenty of room for the rescued test subjects. They approached the crash
site cautiously. Their scrambler shield made them undetectable to scanners but visual
detection was harder to avoid.

“Has the rescue team come and gone?” Vi Pone looked directly at Mal Ton. “Why

isn’t the wreckage crawling with Bryson’s men?”

“Damn good question. I say we find out.”
The pilot stayed with the ship while Vi Pone followed Mal Ton into the dense

forest. The scent of pine and smoke were heavy in the air as they crept along the ridge

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overlooking the downed transport. Nothing moved in the surrounding darkness and
only the distant groan of the settling wreckage disturbed the starry night.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Vi Pone whispered across the comlink incorporated in

their helmets. “Bryson’s men should be crawling all over this valley.”

“Cover me. I’m going to take a closer look.”
Vi Pone lay on his stomach at the crest of the hill and activated the high-powered

scope on his plasma rifle. “There are blind spots all through the debris. Try to stay
where I can see you.”

Acknowledging the warning with a silent wave, Mal Ton started down the hill.

Scanner readouts scrolled down the sides of his visor while night vision enhancement
allowed him to see clearly. The smoldering ship created pockets of heat. He identified
bodies within the alloy rubble, yet there were no hover tracks or indications of how the
survivors had been moved. If the eleven were survivors.

An unseen hand wrapped around his upper arm and yanked him behind a cluster

of twisted metal. He looked and scanned frantically, but there was no one there.

“Commander, I can’t see you,” Vi Pone’s voice erupted in his ear.
“If you want to know what happened here, tell your sniper everything is fine.”
Mal Ton didn’t recognize the intruder’s voice. He wasn’t even sure if it had been

audible or in his head. His body armor would protect him from weapons’ fire, but his
assailant was invisible! The hold on his upper arm remained firm but his scanners
revealed nothing.

“Stand down, Vi.” He infused his tone with calm and curiosity. “There are tracks

back here. I’m going to see where they lead.”

“I’d feel better if I could see you.”
Mal Ton chuckled. “I get that all the time.”
“Mute your comlink,” the phantom instructed.
Mal Ton kept his pulse pistol firmly in his grasp but he had no idea where to aim.
“The clean-up team is on its way. We really don’t have time for your mistrust.”
Someone grasped his head and pulled off his helmet. Mal Ton swatted at the

unseen hands and crouched, preparing for another attack. Why had they left him with
his weapon? He pointed the pistol at each shadow in turn, his heart thumping out his
confusion and fear. They’d overcome him effortlessly. Why was he still alive? All he
could detect was the outline of bodies and glowing amber eyes.

Mutants.
Mal Ton shuddered. “Did you bring down the ship?”
“No.”
“Do you know who did?”
“Yes.”

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Are you capable of more than one-word answers? “Were there survivors? Why aren’t

Bryson’s men here yet?”

“The trauma team is here and gone. There was nothing they could do for the dead.

As I said already, a clean-up crew is on their way. Why are you so focused on Bryson?
He had nothing to do with the crash.”

The voice came from Mal Ton’s left, but he couldn’t be certain which of the mutants

spoke. “Who are you?”

“Fane sent us to recover the women. Max beat us to the finish line.”
“Who the hell is Max and why do you say women? Were all the test subjects

female?”

The mutant made a derisive sound, part chuckle and part scoff. “Two steps behind

as usual. Tell the Earth woman to focus on the female case studies. She has to find a
cure before it’s too late. If Fane dies, Max will take over Protaria, and Stilox will be
powerless to stop him.”

“Max brought down the ship?”
“You find a cure. We’ll worry about the test subjects.”
One of the mutants tossed Mal Ton his helmet then they all melted into the night.

* * * * *

“Are you hungry?”
Roark moved up behind Andrea as she stared out the window in his bedroom.

There wasn’t much of a view from here, just a narrow swath of sky and a clutter of
rooftops. She needed to think, to catch her breath and organize her feelings. Fear, anger
and desire melded into an unrecognizable muddle. All they wanted was for her to save
their people from certain death during the day and submit her body to their most
demanding desires at night. Her insides quivered as she thought of all submission
might entail.

“I want to go home.” She didn’t care if the request sounded childish. She was

emotionally depleted.

Roark wrapped his arms around her waist and tucked her head under his chin. She

hadn’t realized how tall he was. Next to Mal Ton anyone looked small. “That’s not
going to happen.” She heard compassion in his tone but not regret.

Unable to resist the comfort of his embrace, she turned and wrapped her arms

around him. “Why couldn’t I have been a shopkeeper or an architect?” He was warm
and understanding. She cuddled against his chest, savoring the heat of his skin and the
spicy scent that was uniquely his. For a long time, he just held her, stroking her hair and
rubbing her back.

He took her hand and led her to a large, overstuffed chair across the room. She

started to move to the sofa facing him but he pulled her down onto his lap. “Tell me
about your life on Earth. Why are you so anxious to return?”

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It was a fair question, but her answer was so pathetic, she felt annoyance rise up

within her. “It’s not that my life was so wonderful, I’d just rather be anywhere but
here.”

“Here as a captive or here with me?”
Why did he have to confuse the issue? Roark’s smoldering sensuality was no less

attractive than Mal Ton’s overt carnality. She had no choice but to respond to Mal Ton,
so what accounted for her desire for Roark? He was kind and gentle. He tempted her
with his sexy smile then patiently waited for her to accept the offer.

“If we’d met under different circumstances,” she stressed, “I would have enjoyed

spending time with you.”

He chuckled and brushed her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “If

your first meeting with Mal Ton had been what it appeared, you would have let him
fuck you on the shuttle. We both sense that you’ve been suppressing your sexuality for
a very long time.” Before she could get defensive, he went on. “If we had met at the ball,
do you think your reaction to me would have been as powerful?”

He was jealous of Mal Ton. She had no idea why the realization pleased her but she

quickly hid a grin. “If I’d met you at the ball, we would have danced and laughed and
spent the evening talking. I would have given you my private access code and tortured
myself wondering how long it would take you to com me.”

“And when I contacted you, would you have agreed to see me again?”
“I would have been distracted and restless waiting for your transmission. My lab

assistant would have noticed the difference and offered some unsavory advice.”

He smiled. “What sort of unsavory advice?”
“She’s the one who encouraged me to find the best-looking man at the ball and fuck

his brains out in the cloakroom.” They both laughed at the admission. “Janelle probably
would have advised me to enjoy Mal Ton until he became restless then concentrate on
my relationship with you.” Pain erupted in his gaze a moment before he turned his face
away. What had she said? Wasn’t that how it worked with mates and Seconds? She’d
been trying to relate to… “I am such an ass. I didn’t mean to rub salt in your wounds.”

“Baylie left me a long time ago. Those wounds are too close to healed to be affected

by salt.” He smiled, but she hadn’t imagined his initial reaction. His fingers splayed
against her neck and he traced her lips with his thumb. “You should listen to your
assistant’s advice. Mal Ton is the sort of man who generally becomes a Second. I would
make a much better mate. So let’s pretend we’ve known each other for weeks. We’ve
shared romantic dinners and moonlit walks. I sent you flowers and waited patiently for
our first kiss.”

“Not too patiently.” She stared into his eyes and felt her senses begin to hum. “I like

a man to make the first move.”

He cupped her chin and slowly lowered his head until their mouths just touched.

His lips slid against hers, his tongue brushing between. She parted for him, but he
wanted to play. With little nips and gentle suction, he explored, his tongue never

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venturing beyond the portal of her lips. She grew restless, finally seeking out his tongue
with hers.

It was all the encouragement he needed. He shifted his arm, cradling her head in

the bend of his elbow as he took the kiss deeper. She combed his hair with her fingers,
luxuriating in the softness as the strands caressed her skin. His scent filled her nose,
only slightly less intoxicating than his taste. She boldly stroked her tongue over his,
wanting more, needing skin on skin.

His arm moved to her shoulders as his other slipped beneath her knees. He lifted

her against his chest and crossed to the bed without releasing her mouth. Strong,
capable and complex, Roark was an understated painting. The longer she looked at him
the more amazing he became.

He sat her on the edge of the bed and took off his shirt as he kicked off his boots. He

started to say something then determination blazed in his eyes.

“What are you thinking?”
“I was going to ask you to make sure this is what you want, but I need you so badly

I decided to convince you instead.”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as he pulled her shirt off over her

head. Her body had been simmering since she left Earth. Each orgasm only built her
hunger for hard, deep penetration. She wanted his body pressing her into the mattress
and the abandoned slap of flesh against flesh.

He paused to kiss her again so she went to work on his pants. His chest was lean

and toned. She was anxious to see the rest of him. Before she could finish her task, he
pushed her over backward and unfastened the tie at the top of her pants. With several
firm tugs, he had her naked, except for her slip-on shoes. She rid her feet of the simple
coverings and propped herself on her elbows.

“Your turn,” she insisted. “I want to see all of you.”
His gaze bore into hers as he pushed his pants past his hips. He either wore no

undergarments or he’d rid himself of both. Long and fully erect, his cock rose from a
nest of wiry hair. The head was wide and deeply flushed and his balls had already
drawn up close to his body. He stroked his shaft from base to tip and moisture beaded
on the very end.

“I need…” He groaned and closed his eyes. “If I fuck you now, I’ll last about three

seconds. Let me take the edge off then I’ll make it worth your while.”

He’d selflessly used his mouth to pleasure her then helped Mal Ton give her

another incredible orgasm. Watching him come held a certain appeal, but she had a
better idea.

Slipping off the bed, she knelt in front of him and covered his hand with hers. “Let

me.” She whispered the temptation with an inviting smile.

Her sexual horizons had been expanded more in the short time she’d spent with

these two men than in all the years that had gone before. Mal Ton would never allow

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her to explore, to savor the experience. He’d claim her mouth, take her and fuck her as
insistently as he had with his fingers. Roark was different. He was willing to share
himself with her and she was anxious to play.

She licked the bead of moisture off the tip of his cock, fascinated by the salty taste

and the silky texture. Feminine power surged through her as never before. His fingers
slipped into her hair but he remained still as she licked her way down one side and up
the other. He tensed and gasped each time she closed her lips around his flared cock
head. He must be incredibly sensitive there. Swirling her tongue and wetting her lips,
she sucked more of him into her mouth.

“Oh kitten,” he whispered, “that’s so good.”
Mal Ton had called her kitten too. She was starting to like the pet name. It filled her

with mischief and intensified the tension gathering between her legs. Using her hand as
well as her mouth, she worked his shaft. His taste grew stronger and she felt him throb
against her tongue.

“Tilt your head back—fast!” She tilted her head and he thrust deep. His seed

spurted out in rhythmic jets coating her throat. “Swallow, sweetheart. Let me feel your
muscles tighten.” She swallowed and he shuddered, so she swallowed again and again.
He panted and caressed her face as the haze cleared from his eyes. “You are amazing.”

He pulled out of her mouth with obvious reluctance. “I take it you approve?”
“Approve.” He laughed. “I don’t think anything has ever felt that good.”
She spotted the case he’d brought with him from the playroom as he helped her to

her feet. If he disobeyed Mal Ton, Roark would be punished. Were they breaking the
rules right now? Mal Ton had told Roark not to kiss her, but that was before. Not
wanting to ruin the comfortable mood they’d created, she hesitated to voice her
questions.

Roark followed the direction of her gaze and sighed. “Will you feel less intimidated

if I show it to you?”

He’d misunderstood the reason for her concern, but it wasn’t a bad idea. She

nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. After retrieving the case, he sat beside her and
opened it across his legs.

“This is the plug. It’s specifically designed for beginners. I’ll use plenty of lube so it

won’t feel much different than Mal Ton’s fingers.”

She shivered. Mal Ton’s fingers had shocked and excited her in a way she wouldn’t

have believed possible. The plug was rounded and slender on the top then it flared
before narrowing again.

“This part provides the fullness and this notch will keep it inside you until we’re

ready for it to come out.”

“Are you going to put it in before or after we…”

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He laughed. “What is your aversion to the word? Fuck. We’re going to fuck. And if

you’ll trust me, I’d like to put the butt plug in now. Many women find the additional
fullness very arousing.”

She looked at the toy and then managed an unsteady smile. “I trust you.”
“Good, then lie down and scoot back on the bed. Make room for me between your

legs.” Lying sideways across the mattress, she moved her legs apart and bent her knees.
“Your breasts are wonderful, but this,” he traced her slit from anus to clit, “makes me
wild.”

After coating the plug with lube, he set it within reach and moved between her legs.

His cock bobbed and swayed. He was already hard again, not as hard as he had been
before, but well on his way. She tried to relax, tried not to think about what he intended
to do, where he meant to put the odd little toy.

“Andrea.” He waited until she met his gaze. “You said you trusted me.”
“I do.”
“They why are you white as a sheet? Did Mal Ton’s fingers hurt when they were

inside you?”

“Not really. It just felt strange.” He grinned, obviously remembering her cries of

pleasure. “Fine. It felt better than strange.”

“Would this be easier if I put you in restraints? You wouldn’t have to fight your

urge to resist that way.”

She hesitated. Being bound had given her a sense of freedom. “Just my wrists.” He

opened a compartment in his headboard and withdrew a set of wrist cuffs. She couldn’t
help but laugh. “Is bondage equipment standard issue for Stilox military?”

“This bedroom came with the lab. The officer who occupied it before I was captured

furnished it, but most Stilox males are dominant by nature.” He rotated her body so she
was aligned with the restraints and raised her arms above her head. After closing the
cuffs around her wrists, he adjusted the slack in the cable then settled himself between
her legs. “Now where were we?”

He lowered his head between her thighs and parted her folds with his tongue. She

sighed and closed her eyes. His mouth moved against her, his lips caressing as much as
his tongue. He pushed her legs wider and held her open with his thumbs while he
tasted the very heart of her.

“Gods, I could live on your cream,” he murmured against her damp flesh, and she

opened her eyes, wanting to see as well as feel him. “I’ll never tire of this.” As if to
prove his point, he licked and sucked, nibbled and flicked until an orgasm threatened to
overtake her.

“Oh!” She panted, resisting the urge to close her eyes again. “I don’t want to come

until you’re inside me.”

“No, come now.” He thrust his tongue deep into her cunt and nudged her clit with

his nose. She lifted her hips off the bed, shuddering with completion.

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Centering his tongue over her swollen nub, he encouraged the tingling aftershocks

as he reached for the butt plug. She kept her muscles relaxed, trusting him with her
pleasure. He parted her butt cheeks with one hand and teased her with the toy. It felt
cool and smooth against her tightly puckered hole. He pushed in just a bit, opening her,
stretching the tight muscular collar.

“Accept it. Push out as I push in.”
He lowered his head again and she could no longer see what he was doing. His

tongue swirled over her clit and the pressure increased. She planted her feet against his
shoulders and lifted her hips, rotating to give him a better angle. His lips closed around
her clit as he drove the plug home. She gasped and closed her hands into fists. He
sucked on her clit, pulling on the ultrasensitive nub.

Tension escalated, throbbing through her with renewed demand. The toy felt

enormous in her ass, which only accented her empty pussy. “Please, Roark. I need you
inside me.”

He looked up, dragging his tongue across her clit before he prompted, “Say it. Tell

me exactly what you want.”

“Fuck me, please fuck me now.”

Desire slammed into Roark. He wanted to fuck her hard and fast and make them

both scream. That’s what Mal Ton would have done. But he wasn’t Mal Ton. He
couldn’t compete with the commander when it came to brutal passion. His approach
had to be different or she would never differentiate between the two. He took a deep
breath, determined to set himself apart from Mal Ton in her mind.

Slipping his arms under her knees, he pressed his cock against the entrance to her

pussy but went no farther. “Look at me.” Her gaze slowly focused on his eyes. “Say my
name.”

“Roark.” She licked her lips, her expression uncertain.
He drove in, groaning as her inner muscles closed around him. Hot, so fucking hot.

How was he ever going to go slowly? He would never win her with a few frantic
minutes. “Whose cock is inside you?”

“Roark’s,” she cried.
Deeper and deeper he pushed until his balls pressed against her ass. He pulled back

just far enough to ease his hands between their bodies. “Come again. I want to feel your
pussy welcome my cock.” He circled her clit and she squirmed. Her nipples hardened
and her breasts quivered. Still, he refused to move.

“I can’t come like this,” she whispered.
“You will!” He pressed her clit between his finger and thumb until she cried out.

“Don’t argue with me.” He bent to her nipples, suckling firmly as his finger massaged
her clit. She whimpered. Her cream seeped out around his cock and soaked his fingers.
“Kiss me, offer me your mouth.”

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He couldn’t really reach her. She had to arch her neck and meet him halfway. Their

mouths connected in a flurry of clinging lips and thrusting tongues. He supported her
neck with one hand, knowing she couldn’t use her arms. He tasted himself on her
tongue and groaned. All the while his fingers kept their circular caress.

Suddenly, she threw back her head and cried out. Her core throbbed around him,

contracting so hard she nearly took him with her. Before the last spasm passed, he
pulled back and thrust deep. He lowered her to the bed and pushed her knees up and
out.

She accepted each forceful lunge with a flutter of her inner muscles, unable to

respond in any other way. He filled her again and again, staring into her eyes as he
claimed her body. The butt plug stretched her cunt so tightly around his shaft it was
almost unbearable.

His balls tingled, signaling his impending orgasm. He didn’t want it to end. Once

Mal Ton returned, he would never have her to himself again. He slowed his pace,
hoping to postpone the ending a little while longer.

Her pussy rippled and she trembled beneath him, lost in ecstasy. Her euphoric

expression and the rhythmic grip of her body were more than he could resist. Thrusting
his full length into her wet heat, he released his seed in shuddering waves. Pleasure
rushed through his body and robbed him of every thought but her. There was only
Andrea and the wonder of their joining.

Long moments passed as he panted against her heaving breasts. Realizing her

awkward position, he lowered her legs and arranged them more naturally around his
hips.

“That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind,” he admitted in a shaky whisper.
She chuckled, the tightening of her pussy echoing the sound. “You didn’t want to

leave me weak and utterly satisfied?”

“I wanted to seduce you slowly and make love to you gently.” He hadn’t meant to

use the phrase, but she just smiled.

“You wanted this to be as different from Mal Ton as you could possibly make it?”
He brushed his lips over hers. “Basically.”
“I’m not sure I can be seduced without a little aggression.” She nipped his lower lip

to illustrate. “And no one will ever confuse you with Mal Ton.”

He pulled out and rolled to her side, staring up at the ceiling. That was exactly what

worried him most.

* * * * *

Mal Ton stared out the viewport with unseeing eyes. They were an hour away from

Stilox and the mutant’s cryptic warning still echoed through his mind. If Fane dies, Max
will take over Protaria, and Stilox will be powerless to stop him.

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Fane was a mystery, a name whispered with reverence and awe. All Mal Ton really

knew was the mutants who sought refuge on Stilox respected and were loyal to Fane.
Mal Ton had never heard of Max but that was about to change.

The messenger honestly believed every word he’d said. Mal Ton had sensed

desperation and sorrow emanating from all of them. Mutation by its nature was
degenerative but losing their leader would be a fatal blow. The Mutant Underground
was on the brink of civil war, which left Mal Ton no option but to put more pressure on
Andrea.

He unfastened his safety restraints and moved into the aft cabin, the cabin that

should have been filled with rescued test subjects. Had Roark made any progress with
their stubborn guest? Her body responded readily to aggressive passion, but Mal Ton
knew she used emotional disassociation to keep their exchanges superficial. She
surrendered her body to his demands yet he sensed a deeper connection each time she
looked at Roark.

Activating a private link, Mal Ton paged Roark. Several minutes passed with no

response so he sent the page again. He’d left Roark with specific instructions. Had the
kindhearted doctor been unable to—

“I’d about given up on you.” Roark’s response was audio only. What was he trying

to hide?

“Where are you?” Mal Ton asked.
“In my office. I didn’t want our conversation to wake Andrea.”
“Why did you leave my quarters? Everything you needed was right there.”
Roark chuckled, the sound filled with guilty pleasure. “Everything you need is right

there. I suspected Andrea would respond better to a different approach.”

“You fucked her, didn’t you? I can hear it in your voice. She let you fuck her.” Mal

Ton clenched his hands into fists. If they’d been in the same room, Roark would be laid
out on the floor! “Tempt and tease, keep her off balance and unsure. I know you
understood the plan. Why did you disregard my orders?”

“Because, despite the role you chose for me, I don’t answer to you.”
The emphatic reply sent another jolt of fury through Mal Ton. “Her motivation was

to avoid my lecherous attention by cooperating with you.”

“How has that changed? If anything, your plan is working better than we

anticipated. As soon as I can channel her trust in the right direction, we’ll have our
cure.” Roark’s subtle challenge was even more provoking than his blatant
insubordination. Mal Ton glared at the companel, thankful Roark couldn’t see him.
Why should he care if Roark fucked her first? Mal Ton was using lust as a catalyst for
something far more important. A long pause followed then Roark asked, “Was your
mission successful?”

“A mutant named Max shot down the ship and captured the survivors before

Bryson realized what was happening.”

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“How do you know all this?”
“We arrived after Max left but there was another group of mutants. They told me

Max has the survivors and he’s about to make a move against Fane.”

“That can’t be good. What do you know about this Max?”
“Nothing yet.” He heaved a sigh and focused again on the larger objective,

developing a cure. “They didn’t come right out and say it, but Fane is in trouble. I think
we better up the pressure a notch.”

“Are you sure this is still motivation?” Roark made no effort to temper the

disapproval in his tone.

“How can you ask me that?” Mal Ton snapped. “Your cock is still wet from her

cunt and you dare—”

“I’m far more attracted to her than I ever imagined. That’s why I asked. As soon as I

saw her, I knew I would enjoy seducing her but I didn’t anticipate… I feel an elemental
connection with Andrea that I hadn’t expected to feel.”

“Is there any possibility she’s infected?” Mal Ton was almost afraid to ask. A

stimulant had been incorporated into the lentavirus to ensure its spread. The infected
person became sexually aggressive and their body emanated a powerful pheromone
that made them extremely attractive to others.

“You gave her the vaccine. Didn’t you?”
“Of course,” Mal Ton insisted. “A sex-crazed female isn’t going to do us any good.

Regardless of how tempting we find her, Andrea was intercepted for a specific
purpose.”

“I’ll scan her, but I can’t imagine how she would have ended up with the virus.

There hasn’t been a new outbreak in years.”

“I don’t know if my nanoimmunites will work in a human, but they certainly

couldn’t hurt.”

Roark chuckled. “And ejaculation just happens to be the only way to transfer

them.”

“It’s not the only way, just the fastest and most effective.” Mutant energy gathered

in Mal Ton’s eyes and he savored the familiar sting. Roark wasn’t the only one feeling a
connection to Andrea. Mal Ton had burned to claim her ever since he walked into her
lab. “Com me if there’s something troubling in the scan, otherwise prepare to face my
wrath.”

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Chapter Six

A cold rush of air drew Andrea from a dreamless sleep. Roark had released her

from the wrist cuffs and curled up against her back, wrapping his arm around her
waist. It had been intimate and wonderful until they were rudely interrupted.

“Lights full,” Mal Ton’s angry order snapped through the darkness.
She reached blindly for the sheet, which had been jerked from her naked body, as

light erupted in the bedroom. After a sickening lurch, her heart fell into a frantic
rhythm. Mal Ton had ordered Roark to prepare her, not make love to her.

“Get the hell out of my quarters,” Roark shouted, the vehemence in his tone

startling her. Was his brain still muddled from sleep? This was not the time to make a
stand against Mal Ton. The commander’s pride alone would demand retaliation.

“Why is she here with you?” Mal Ton planted his fists on his hips and glared at the

younger man. “I know you understood my instructions.”

Roark swung his legs off the side of the bed and grabbed for his pants. Mal Ton

kicked them out of reach. Andrea used Mal Ton’s distraction to snatch the sheet up to
her chin. The commander’s flashing gaze was fixed on Roark. Still, his anger was
palpable.

“No more.” Roark raised his chin and kept his hands at his sides, refusing to be

cowed by his nudity. “I will not allow you to take her unless she invites your touch. She
has suffered enough of your bullying.”

Mal Ton scoffed. “She didn’t seem to be suffering before I was called away.” He

whipped around to face her, his expression no less hostile. “Have you been forced to do
anything—?”

“Other than leave Earth?” Despite the tension coiling in her belly, she couldn’t

resist the small rebellion.

Mal Ton glared into her eyes for a long, silent moment. Amber erupted for a

moment then disappeared. Like a cat’s eyes penetrating the darkness, the glow had
been unmistakable. Fascinated yet terrified, she searched for the illumination but his
irises were teal again.

Authority always emanated from him and anger intensified the impression, made it

darker and more dangerous. Still, his air of authority was nothing compared to the raw
sexuality exuding from every molecule of his being. He’d gathered the thin dreadlocks
at the nape of his neck, accenting his sculpted features and the breadth of his shoulders.
Her insides quivered and her determination to resist scattered like leaves on the wind.

“You promised me your mouth.” His voice was part caress, part growl. “Did you

give my gift to Roark instead?”

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Guilt swelled within her so suddenly she knew he would sense it. Before she could

answer, Roark insinuated himself between Mal Ton and the bed.

“You left her in my care with a task that frightened her. Reassurance led to passion

and passion to—”

He shoved Roark aside as if the doctor hadn’t spoken. “Are you still wearing the

butt plug?”

Andrea licked her lips as heat crawled up her neck. “We showered before we came

to bed. Neither of us believed you would return tonight.”

“You might be able to claim ignorance but Roark knew I would return.” He shot a

venomous glance at Roark then continued. “Roark will watch as you provide the
pleasure you willingly offered me. Then you will watch as I punish him for his
disobedience.”

“I only made that offer because you were about to do something a whole lot

worse.” Her anus tingled as if to mock her protest. Mal Ton had already proved she
responded to other forms of stimulation. Why did she persist in her denials?

Folding his arms over his chest, Mal Ton narrowed his gaze and released a

frustrated sigh. “I’m tired of these insinuations that I’m forcing you. I have never
resorted to rape.”

This was her opportunity. All she had to do was tell him she was unwilling and he

would leave. Her lungs froze and lust burst within her body. He was sex personified,
the most blatantly carnal man she’d ever encountered. She hugged herself, breasts
aching, pussy throbbing.

Say it. Tell him you don’t want this. She opened her mouth to speak the lie but no

sound came out. He stood beside the bed, challenge blazing in his eyes.

“Speak the words.” His voice was gruff and low. “Are you willing to trust me with

your pleasure or not?”

Dragging air into her burning lungs, she turned her face away. She wanted him.

How could she deny the attraction when she’d invited his attention? Truth be told, she
wanted them both, but this need was so foreign, she hardly recognized herself.

“Are you willing, yes or no?” His tone snapped with impatience.
“Yes,” she whispered, and a shiver zinged down her spine.
“Good.” He found her ankle beneath the sheet and pulled her toward the edge of

the bed. “Now look at Roark and say it again. I want this settled once and for all.”

She looked at Roark, expecting anger and disappointment. Instead, she found a

similar fire smoldering in his eyes. “I want Mal Ton.” Her admission increased the heat,
so she added, “I want you both.”

“You want us both?” Mal Ton sounded pleased not jealous. Another unexpected

reaction. Tugging the sheet out from under her hands, he tossed it to the foot of the bed.
Then he drew her to her knees, bringing her face on a level with his. “Roark disobeyed a
direct order so that will have to wait for another night.”

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“I didn’t mean…”
“Yes, you did.” He framed her face with his hands, the gesture surprisingly gentle.

“Don’t be ashamed of your desires. You are intrigued and our society not only accepts
but encourages such exploration. Embrace your sexual nature. I assure you the
attraction is mutual.”

He pressed a light kiss to the corners of her mouth then closed his fist in the back of

her hair. The possessive motion sent more shivers skittering across her nerve endings.
As long as she followed his movement, the grasp caused no pain, yet the slightest
resistance stung her scalp. Angling her face to the side, he cupped her breast with his
other hand. His fingers squeezed the resilient mound while his thumb circled her
nipple. All the while he stared into her eyes, showing her the depths of his desire and
the intensity of his need.

“I want your tongue in my mouth,” he whispered.
Rising up just a bit, she traced his lower lip, meaning to ease into the warm interior.

His lips closed around her tongue and he sucked greedily. Her startled gasp was lost in
the flurry that followed. His lips rubbed, his tongue stroked and he relaxed his hold so
she could respond. She couldn’t identify his taste but it was hot and spicy and
addictive.

He dragged his mouth from hers with another growl. “Undress me.”
Her mouth went dry as she tugged his shirt off over his head. She’d never seen him

naked before. She’d imagined him repeatedly but never actually seen him. He bent to
tug off his boots, presenting her with a glimpse of his corded back. He straightened and
waited for her to unfasten his pants. She paused, unable to resist the temptation of his
rippling muscles. Stroking from his waist to his shoulders and back, she marveled at the
contrast between smooth skin and rock-hard muscle.

With a wicked grin, he guided one hand to the distinct ridge beneath the material

and the other to the garment’s fastening. “Don’t stop now.”

Andrea glanced at Roark. The banked hunger in his gaze had flared to burning lust

and his cock stood fully erect. Was he excited by watching her touch Mal Ton or did he
want the commander as well? Roark had sworn he was only attracted to women yet his
gaze moved just as eagerly over Mal Ton as it did over her.

Mal Ton turned her face back toward him, a smile curving the corners of his mouth.

“Shall we let the good doctor join us or would you prefer he continue to watch?”

“Join us how?” Roark looked rather miserable, but she didn’t want Mal Ton to push

Roark’s boundaries.

Mal Ton chuckled. “Several possibilities come to mind. You were nearly as

disobedient as Roark. I think it only fitting that you wait for pleasure until after you’ve
paid your debt.”

He said nothing more so she unfastened his pants and eased them down. His hips

were lean and his legs promised strength and agility. Only after she’d taken in the
overall beauty of his male form did she allow her gaze to settle on his sex. Lightly

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dusted with hair, his balls were full and round. His shaft expanded beneath her curious
gaze, growing both longer and thicker. She swallowed hard and unconsciously licked
her lips. Were all Stilox males built like Roark and Mal Ton?

After helping her to her knees in front of him, Mal Ton looked at Roark. “Kneel

behind her, but you are not allowed to touch her.”

Moving her legs apart, Roark did as the commander directed. If she leaned forward,

he could thrust right into the heart of her. Somehow, she didn’t think that’s what Mal
Ton had in mind.

“Guide her hands to your cock then reach behind you and grasp your ankles. No

mater how good her touch feels, you do not have permission to come.”

Roark took her wrists and pulled her arms behind her back. Her breasts thrust

forward and her hips angled provocatively. Her fingers brushed against something hot
and hard. He curved her fingers around his erection then his hands left her.

She leaned back slightly and found the base of Roark’s shaft, stroking all the way to

the tip without letting go. His sharply indrawn breath assured her he found the caress
pleasurable so she did it again. She swept her thumb across his cock head and gathered
the silky fluid, using it to lubricate her fingers and make them slide more smoothly.

“If you come, you will know only pain.”
She wasn’t sure if the warning was meant for her or Roark. Mal Ton took her face

between his hands and nudged her lips with his cock. Shuttling in and out slowly, he
waited for her swirling tongue to ease his way. His thrusts grew faster and deeper, his
hands firmly holding her face. This was so different from what she’d done for Roark.
Mal Ton claimed her mouth with the same controlled demand he did everything.

Allowing Mal Ton’s long drives to set the pace, she dragged her fingers along

Roark’s shaft again and again. Mal Ton shifted one hand to her hair so he could fondle
her breasts with the other. Intense and consuming, he took his pleasure without
hesitation or shame.

Roark shuddered and groaned, catching her wrists and crossing her arms at the

small of her back. “Sorry, kitten, it feels too damn good.”

“Pinch her nipples,” Mal Ton gasped, “I’m almost there.”
She watched Mal Ton’s body flex and tense as each stroke drove him nearer to

completion. Roark cupped her breasts and rolled her nipples, but she kept her arms
crossed at the small of her back. Surrounded, overwhelmed, taken, she reveled in the
power of the moment. Her core pulsed with enough force to drag a muffled groan from
her throat. Mal Ton had ordered her to wait.

Roark rolled her nipples, tugging on the tender peaks until sensations darted deep

into her abdomen. Her lips could barely contain Mal Ton’s shaft; he had grown so hard.
His eyelids drooped and he pushed to the back of her mouth, his fingers tightening in
her hair.

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Sucking firmly, she prolonged his release. She swallowed and swallowed and still

he shuddered, his head thrown back in ecstasy. His wide chest heaved and his
abdomen quivered as she eagerly licked him clean.

With sudden ferocity, he dragged her to her feet and kissed her, boldly tasting

himself on her tongue. She trembled in his arms, understanding the possessiveness of
the action. He wanted his taste and only his taste in her mouth. His lips lingered against
hers for a long time before he wrapped her snuggly in his arms and tucked her head
beneath his chin.

“Were the scans all negative?” Mal Ton asked Roark.
“Yes. She’s not infected.”
“Then why…”
She pushed away from Mal Ton’s chest and pivoted so she could see both men.

Roark stood now, his cock still massively erect.

“When did you run scans on me?” she asked. “With what do you think I’m

infected?”

“A sexual stimulant was engineered into the lentavirus,” Roark told her. “We’re

both having unusually strong reactions to you. We just wanted to make sure the
attraction wasn’t the result of the infection’s onset.”

Crossing her arms over her breasts, she tried to ignore her body’s demands. “Have

either of you interacted with a human before? Perhaps it’s as simple as extremely
compatible pheromones.”

“There are several possibilities. Mal Ton wasn’t on Earth long, but you are the only

human who immediately aroused him.” Roark’s gaze swept her naked body as he
spoke. “I’ve never been this strongly attracted to anyone before.”

“But you said the scans were negative.” She rubbed her arms as her body burned. If

Mal Ton didn’t let her come soon, she would abandon all claims to modesty and
masturbate to a screaming orgasm right in the middle of a semi-casual conversation.

Mal Ton swept her up into his arms and strode toward the bed. “The scans were

negative for the lentavirus. We don’t know why we’re driving each other crazy.”

“Shouldn’t we…stop until we know what’s going on? We could be making it

worse.”

He nipped her chin. “I feel much better, at least for the moment. You will too as

soon as you’ve earned your pleasure.”

“‘Earned’ my pleasure? Isn’t that what I just did?”
“No. That was the fulfillment of an obligation. You must help me punish Roark if

you want to come.”

Her gaze shot to the younger man. Roark’s eyes gleamed with rebellion and he’d

pressed his mouth into a grim line.

“I don’t want him punished because of me,” she said softly.

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Mal Ton’s arms tensed then he slid her down along his body until her feet touched

the floor. “He’s going to be punished because he failed to follow orders.”

“He disregarded your orders because of me.” She looked into Mal Ton’s eyes,

refusing to back down. Had she only imagined the odd amber flash? The image
wouldn’t leave her mind. “If he hadn’t felt compelled to comfort me, he never would
have displeased you.”

“Are you willing to take his punishment for him?”
“No!” Roark grabbed Mal Ton’s arm, but the commander twisted away without

taking his eyes off Andrea.

“If you’ll offer no other compromise, then punish me.”
Mal Ton rubbed his chin as he studied her. “Another negotiation? I thought you

were a scientist not a diplomat.”

Staring into his jewel-bright gaze, a wicked image formed within her mind. She was

once again bound and helpless, utterly at his command. When she looked at Roark, she
longed to be held and caressed, coxed to sweet climaxes that left her sleepy and
satisfied. Mal Ton, on the other hand, stirred dangerous desires she never knew she
possessed.

“According to you, I’m your pleasure servant, contractually obligated to obey.”
He shook his head and brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “No more games,

remember? Are you ready to obey?”

“I…” She licked her lips and nodded her head.
His hand cupped her chin and he leaned down, bringing his mouth near hers. “Fear

heightens excitement. There is nothing wrong with being afraid.”

Roark wanted to howl. Protectiveness surged through him as desire tore at his gut.

He wanted to yank Andrea away from Mal Ton and wrap her in his arms. He would
never allow Mal Ton to hurt her. She didn’t need to be afraid.

But part of her needed the brutal passion Mal Ton controlled so effortlessly. Roark

could see it in her eyes, smell it in the tantalizing musk emanating from her body. He
wanted to lick her, to shove his tongue into her cunt and taste her passion. How could
he hope to shield her from Mal Ton when his cravings were nearly as savage?

With a verbal command, Mal Ton triggered a panel in the ceiling above the bed. A

pulley descended. Velvet-lined shackles dangling from one side and a braided cord
from the other. He halted the descent when the cuffs were suspended just above
Andrea’s head. She didn’t have to be told what to do. Lifting her arms, she slipped her
wrists into the cuffs and Mal Ton activated the locks.

Thrust forward by the arch of her back, her breasts swayed, the nipples deeply

flushed and distended. Gods, she was aroused. Had she enjoyed having Mal Ton’s cock
in her mouth? Roark gave himself a firm mental shake. She had every right to enjoy Mal
Ton’s body. If anything, he was the intruder.

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“You are fashioned for fucking,” Mal Ton told her with his usual candor. “Your

breasts are soft yet firm, your legs long and strong. And your ass has tormented me
ever since I saw it draped in that clingy evening gown.” Drawing the cord through the
pulley, he smoothly hauled her to her feet.

She had been draped in Mal Ton’s jacket the first time Roark saw her and she’d

been more or less naked ever since. His neglected cock twitched as his gaze swept the
length of her supple body. He dragged his gaze back to her face as Mal Ton tightened
the cord connected to her restraints.

Mal Ton twisted the cord at a precise angle and the break engaged, keeping the

cable from slipping. “She spared you punishment with her obedience, but I expect your
full cooperation now. You know she must be trained. If you don’t have what we need
here, you know where to find them.”

If Andrea had shown the least bit of hesitation, Roark would have refused.
“Spread your legs. I want to find out if you’re as wet as you smell.” Roark groaned.

She moved her feet apart and made room for Mal Ton’s hand. “Oh yes. So very wet.
Shall I finger-fuck you before I eat you or can you wait to come until my tongue is deep
inside you?”

She threw back her head and cried out as she came around Mal Ton’s fingers. Roark

clenched his hands into fists. How he loved that sound!

Mal Ton knelt in front of her and lifted one of her legs to his shoulder. His fingers

were still buried in her core. “Roark!” He dragged his hungry gaze away from her
pussy and looked into Mal Ton’s eyes. “Get busy.”

He nodded. It was best to do this while she was good and distracted. He hurried to

the nightstand and unwrapped one of the slender dildos he enjoyed on occasion. They
were already lubricated but he grabbed a separate tube of lubricant just to be sure.

His breath caught in his throat when he turned around. They were so damn

beautiful together. Her body arched, accenting the swell of her breasts and the luscious
curve of her ass. One slender leg draped over Mal Ton’s broad shoulder and his hands
grasped her firmly. His caramel-colored fingers were a sharp contrast to her smooth,
ivory skin.

Mal Ton traced her slit, touching her only with the tip of his tongue. Her lips were

parted and her eyes were closed. She wiggled, trying to increase the contact between
her sex and Mal Ton’s mouth. With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, Roark
realized the commander was stalling, waiting for him to take his place.

Roark wasn’t opposed to anal play, but Andrea seemed genuinely afraid.
You heard her say she wants us both. Mal Ton knew he couldn’t respond telepathically,

but the commander’s thoughts were crystal clear. If either of us hopes to enter her without
causing her serious pain, she needs to be trained.

Roark held up the dildo meaningfully then quickly ducked behind her before she

opened her eyes. Mal Ton’s hands moved to her ass, pulling her cheeks apart. Roark
watched as the commander’s tongue flicked over her folds and circled her vaginal

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opening. Then he moved on. Roark could no longer see but her soft gasp told him
where Mal Ton had taken his caressing tongue.

Unable to deprive his gaze of her cream-soaked pussy, Roark coated his fingers

with lube. Her anus was tiny, delicately puckered and amazingly… Could an asshole be
beautiful? Instead of smearing her with his fingers as he’d intended, he moved in close
and circled her with his tongue.

“What are you—Roark!”
Her frantic twisting only pressed her mound against Mal Ton’s mouth. Shocked by

the carnality of his desire, Roark pushed against her puckered little hole until the tip of
his tongue slipped inside. All of her! He wanted to know every part of her intimately.
Mal Ton held her open as Roark pushed even deeper. Roark pulled out then pushed
back in. He didn’t want to stop. A cold, artificial cock couldn’t feel her muscles
surrender or contract in violent climax. She was his. She was theirs!

Roark tossed the toy aside and stroked his tongue across her anus then around then

back inside. She squirmed and yelped, calling him a pervert, her voice tremulous.

Mal Ton released her bottom and thrust two fingers into her cunt. The forceful

motion rocked her back against Roark. He withdrew his tongue and drove his slick
middle finger up her ass as far as he could reach.

She wants this so badly I don’t think she’ll care if it hurts. Fuck that, I think she needs the

pain. Lube up your cock. I’m going to lower her onto you.

With his finger sliding in and out of her ass, Roark leaned around Andrea, trying to

capture Mal Ton’s gaze. There was no way he was going to intentionally hurt her.

I feel your uncertainty. If she doesn’t come as soon as you’re buried inside her, you can

punish me!

Roark pulled his finger out with infinite slowness and she whimpered.
“Why did you stop?” Her needy tone added credence to Mal Ton’s claim.
Pausing long enough to liberally coat his cock with lube, Roark got to his feet and

grasped the cable connected to her restraints. Mal Ton licked and sucked on her clit
until she trembled on the brink of orgasm then he shifted both her legs to his elbows
and pushed to his feet. Roark dragged the cord through the pulley keeping the tension
on her arms steady.

“Kiss me, kitten. See if you like the taste of your cream.”
Mal Ton’s throaty question stabbed into Roark’s lust-addled brain. He wanted to

taste her cream—he wanted…everything. The commander moved steadily toward him.
Roark angled himself into position and Mal Ton did the rest. With firm, steady
pressure, Mal Ton impaled her on Roark’s cock.

Her sphincter stubbornly protested his entry. The tight collar of muscle stretched.

With a strangled cry, she tore her mouth away from Mal Ton’s. “I can’t. It hurts!” She
tossed her head and tried to buck but Mal Ton held her tightly.

“Don’t fight this. Take him. Take all of him now!”

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To Roark’s astonishment she relaxed and his shaft slipped deeper.
“Better. Now take the rest. Lean against me and push out.”
She groaned until her soft, warm ass cheeks pressed flush against his groin.
“I hate you,” she whispered.
“No you don’t.” Mal Ton kissed her for a long time while she adjusted to the

invasion.

Roark was doing good just to breathe. She was unbelievably tight and hot

and…perfect. Mal Ton shifted her gradually, changing the angle of her body until she
rested against Roark’s chest.

Secure the cable and take her legs. I’m going to make you both come.
An instant after Roark slipped his arms under her knees Mal Ton kissed his way

down to her breasts. He didn’t linger long over her beaded nipples but sank to his
knees between her wide-spread thighs.

“I feel like a supplicant before a fertility goddess.” He parted her vaginal lips with

his thumbs. “Please accept my offering.”

Roark couldn’t see once Mal Ton bowed his head, but he could feel the effects of the

commander’s caress. She trembled and moaned then her ass clenched rhythmically. It
was bliss and it was torture. He wanted to thrust, but he knew that would hurt her and
Mal Ton hadn’t said he could move.

His balls tingled, pulling up tighter than he thought possible. The back of her head

hit his shoulder and her channel ruthlessly milked his cock. With a bewildered cry,
Roark came too, shuddering violently as he released his seed.

Andrea consciously unclenched her fists and opened her eyes. Flickers of light

dissipated with each blink until the bedroom came back into focus. Mal Ton knelt
before her his fingers gently tracing her slit. He raised his gaze and she whimpered.
Ravenous. Deep in his gaze, the amber glow had returned. How could a man who had
just feasted on pussy look utterly ravenous?

The question made nervous laughter bubble inside her. Roark nuzzled her neck and

his cock still impaled her. Mal Ton had forced her onto that long, thick cock and she had
loved everything about it. The possessive determination in his eyes and the
overwhelming fullness, even the searing pain had driven her senses to a whole new
echelon of pleasure.

“Ready for more?”
“More?” Her voice cracked on the word.
“You’re looking rather sleepy and the good doctor can hardly stand. I, on the other

hand, am far from satisfied.” He chose that moment to rise and his erection bobbed
back into view.

“No way! If you put that inside me while Roark is—”

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“Relax. I have something else in mind.”
She felt the tension on her arms increase and Mal Ton slipped his arms under her

knees. His cock pressed against her vaginal opening. Roark lifted her off his shaft and
the slow, outward slide sent heat spiraling up her spine.

“Oh,” she gasped. “Is that what it will feel like when he moves?”
“Yes, but you’re not quite ready for that—yet.”
As Roark withdrew the last millimeter, Mal Ton began his entry. Suspended and

helpless, all she could do was surrender to the persistent drive. She dropped her head
back on her shoulders and a soft keening sound escaped her throat. He was huge and
she was already tender. Roark took her face between his hands and pressed his mouth
over hers. The upside-down kiss was warm and soothing, her inner muscles gradually
relaxed.

She could do this. She was “fashioned for fucking”. The phrase had annoyed her

before. It sent feminine power surging through her now. She licked Roark’s lips and
whispered, “I want to watch. Don’t you?”

Roark growled and stepped away. She almost called him back, thinking she had

angered him, but he approached a bare section of the wall and uttered an alien phrase.
The panel turned reflective and she smiled.

Mal Ton was between her thighs, her pale skin the perfect foil for his magnificent

body. His arms bunched and flexed as he shifted her weight. He moved one of her
ankles to his shoulder and pushed in the rest of the way. Tingles detonated along the
entire length of her sheath as his balls lightly slapped her ass. Her gaze fixed on the spot
where their bodies connected, waiting for his withdrawal. He pulled back slowly. His
shaft immerged, shining with her juices. God, had all that really been inside her?

His next thrust focused her attention on the exquisite fullness. Her nipples ached

for attention, but his thick shaft rubbed against her clit with each long stroke. He kept
her hips tilted so they could all watch his cock sink into her cunt again and again.

She was fascinated by the graphic tableau. Watching each motion accented the

resulting sensation. Had her breasts always been so full? She’d never thought of herself
as beautiful, so why did watching this savage warrior claim her body make her feel
gorgeous? There was nothing gentle in the act. He fucked her ruthlessly and the more
aggressive he became, the more wanton she felt.

Roark pressed against her back, supporting and bracing her so Mal Ton could

thrust faster. She turned her head, craning her neck, and Roark pressed his mouth over
hers. Soon his tongue took on the rhythm of Mal Ton’s cock. Pressed between them,
filled with them, it was easy to imagine the next step. Roark would move in her ass
while Mal Ton filled her cunt…

Her inner muscles rippled at the thought. Pleasure swept through her in a heated

rush, coalescing in her pussy. She sucked on Roark’s tongue and squeezed Mal Ton’s
cock, wanting the climax to go on and on. Mal Ton thrust to the hilt and shuddered

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with each forceful spurt of his seed. Roark stayed with them, gentling the kiss until the
last tingle had faded.

“Is it always so intense?” The restraints released and she collapsed into Mal Ton’s

arms.

“Was there something different about this?” Mal Ton teased, and Roark slugged

him.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, not yet willing to be empty. “Where do we

sleep?” Mal Ton tensed. The reaction was subtle but she felt it nonetheless.

“Seconds are for fucking. It’s our custom to sleep alone.” He carefully separated

their bodies and placed her on Roark’s bed. “Our negotiations will resume tomorrow.”

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Chapter Seven

“What was that about?”
The bewildered pain in Andrea’s eyes tore at Roark’s heart. He sat on the edge of

the bed and took one of her hands between his. “Some Stilox males choose to be
Seconds because they enjoy the freedom. Others are genetically predisposed for the
position regardless of the preference.”

“I don’t understand.”
“Do humans have different blood types?”
“Of course.”
“Well, Stilox males have one of two distinctly different types of sperm.”
“You told me this already. What does it have to do with being a Second?”
“The genetic contribution of the two males is not equal. Type A sperm is dominant,

so more of its genome is transcribed during conception. Type B is necessary, but
‘secondary’. That’s how the title originated.”

“So Mal Ton wants to be a mate but his sperm is the wrong type?” Before he could

respond, she asked another question. “Didn’t you say your fiancée ran off with your
Second? Did they go looking for another Type A man?”

He heaved a sigh and released her hand, crawling onto the bed beside her. “I was

young and foolish. Most couples choose their Second before the union is finalized.
There is always some sexual interaction. If the woman can’t respond to both men, the
union is pointless. Baylie took it a step further. She convinced us she would only agree
to the union if we succeeded in making her pregnant. One of the first mutations
resulted in infertility so it actually made a certain sense.”

“Was she pregnant when she took off with this other guy?”
“Yes.” He saw pity blossom in her gaze and fought back a smile. It had been a long

time since anyone gave a damn about him. “The child didn’t survive and to my
knowledge, Baylie never conceived again.”

“I’m sorry about the baby. That was your child too.”
He nodded, surprised by how little the memory stung. “Having a child would have

been wonderful, but having a child with Baylie would have been hell.” He consigned
the memory to the past where it belonged. “It was all a long time ago.”

“Do the contributions have to be made…one right after the other? How long will a

half-fertilized egg wait for the Second?”

“There’s about a twelve-hour window. When the first stage of conception occurs, a

combination of hormones is released, making the female extremely aggressive. That’s

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why Seconds tend to be stronger and more dominant than mates. They have to be able
to control the woman once she turns feral.” She stared off into the distance for a long
time, her brow knitted, lips pursed. “What’s the matter?”

“My contraceptive injection is current, but did you scan me for—”
“You’re not pregnant. I never would have let Mal Ton touch you if my seed had

taken root.”

“Then why are we acting like lust-crazed fools? I have never done anything like this

before.”

He smiled, his gaze drifting to her breasts. “We’ve all been isolated and stressed to

the limit of our endurance. Is it really so hard to believe that we’re…” He searched for
the correct Standard word. “Horny?” She finally smiled and curled up on her side
facing him. He deactivated the lights, found the sheet and pulled her into his arms.

* * * * *

“What will it take to gain your cooperation? No more threats. No more games. State

your conditions or name your price.”

When Mal Ton had said they would continue the negotiation in the morning,

Andrea hadn’t dared to hope he meant a conventional negotiation. She emerged from
the bathroom a few moments before after indulging in a real hot-water shower to find
Mal Ton and Roark locked in a heated debate. The debate ended abruptly as soon as she
appeared and then Mal Ton made his unexpected suggestion.

“Why are you suddenly being so accommodating?” She held the lapels of her

bathrobe together, feeling oddly vulnerable.

“Though incredibly pleasurable, last night was a strategic disaster,” Mal Ton

informed her.

“You’re not afraid of him anymore,” Roark added. “We’re wasting our time with

the old tactic.”

Still absorbing the unexpected offer, it took her a moment for Roark’s words to sink

in. “‘We’re wasting our time’?”

Crossing the room with three long strides, he reached for her. She slapped his hand

away. “You’re not his prisoner, are you?” There had been clues all along. She’d even
been suspicious at times. Still, she hadn’t wanted to believe he was part of the
deception.

“I’m Stilox just like Mal Ton.” He stayed a step back, his gaze bright and

compelling. “Our situation is beyond desperate. We’re asking for your help.”

“You manipulative bastard!” She glared at Mal Ton. “That goes for both of you.

How can you admit you’ve been lying to me since I got here and ask me to help you in
the same breath? I can’t believe your arrogance.” She wasn’t even going to think about
what happened the night before. She would lose her mind right along with her temper.

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“Bryson tried conventional negotiations and you turned him down. What choice

did you leave us?” Mal Ton flared.

She gasped, marched up to him and raised her hand to slap his face. “Don’t you

dare try to put this on me!” He easily intercepted the blow and guided her hand back to
her side.

“What would you do to save the lives of everyone you love?” Roark’s tone was

quiet yet challenging. “Would you steal to feed your siblings? Would you lie to protect
a friend? Would you manipulate and coerce?”

“Would you kill?” Mal Ton added with a raised brow.
“Don’t threaten me. I’m no use to you dead and we both know it!”
“I didn’t mean it as a threat. If someone was about to detonate a bomb that would

wipe out everyone you love, would you pull the trigger?”

A shiver passed along her spine and her anger started to dissipate. She frantically

tried to gather it back. She could not give in to them! If she cooperated now, she would
never be safe again. Anyone who wanted her expertise would use similar tactics. Well,
the lying and manipulating part, hopefully not the mind-blowing sex.

“You told me you would negotiate if Mal Ton set you free,” Roark reminded.
She closed her eyes, knowing what would come next.
“You’re no longer a prisoner,” Mal Ton said. “If you insist, I will take you to a

transport station and purchase your passage back to Earth. I obviously can’t take you
myself. Your government will need to believe you escaped.”

Her eyes flew open and she tucked the bathrobe more closely around her trembling

body. “My government accepted generous compensation for me. Chances are pretty
good they’d load me up and bring me back.”

“We need your help, Andrea.” Roark drew her attention back to him.
His skillful seduction was even more upsetting than Mal Ton’s threats. Mal Ton had

made her senses burn, but she genuinely liked Roark. She had—past tense—genuinely
liked Roark. Tears blurred her vision and she stubbornly blinked them back. This was
all backward. Men manipulated women to get them into bed. They didn’t fuck them to
gain access to their minds.

She turned around, unable to suppress her tears. Warm hands cupped her

shoulders and she twisted away. “Don’t you dare touch me!” She’d expected Roark but
Mal Ton stood behind her. He raised his hands and stepped back, allowing her to
compose herself.

Neither man spoke for a long time. She listened to the rushing of blood through her

ears, using the rhythmic sound to insulate her from the torrent of emotions. Mustering
as much control as she could, she wiped her damp cheeks and turned around.

“I will be treated with respect.” Mal Ton hadn’t gone far. He stood half a pace

away. “That ridiculous contract you keep throwing in my face is officially terminated. I
want my own quarters and neither of you will ever touch me again.”

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“Andrea—” Roark began.
She cut him off with a glare before she turned back to Mal Ton. “If by some miracle

I’m able to pull this off, I want your word that you will do everything in your power to
negotiate a permanent ceasefire with the Protarians. I will not save your people just so
you can continue this war!”

He clasped his hands behind his back and inclined his head. “My word is sincerely

given.”

“I want someone else to assist me,” she told Mal Ton, too angry to even look at

Roark. “I can’t stand the sight of either of you right now.”

“There is no way to accommodate that condition but I agree to the rest.” Mal Ton

motioned Roark toward the door. “We’ll be waiting for you in Roark’s office. Take as
long as you like.”

Roark followed Mal Ton from the bedroom. Andrea refused to look at him and he

couldn’t blame her. All things considered, she’d responded… She’d looked as if they’d
kicked the shit out of her—abused and defeated. He’d never felt worse in his life.

“Give her a few days to calm down,” Mal Ton suggested. “She gave herself to you

again this morning. There is definitely something between you.”

“There was something between us. Somehow I suspect it will take more than a few

days for her to forgive us for this.” Pausing to pull on his shirt, Roark moved behind his
desk and sat down. This would force Andrea to sit beside Mal Ton, which was probably
for the better. “You’re taking this all in stride. Didn’t any of this bother you?”

“She already thought I was a ruthless bastard.” He shrugged. “Not much has

changed.”

She entered the office a few minutes later dressed in a leaf green shirt and black

pants. Her face looked freshly scrubbed and she’d combed her hair into glossy blonde
waves. The only indication of her upset was the shadow of pain in her eyes.

“What did you do with the test subjects?” she asked Mal Ton as she slipped into the

chair beside him.

“Someone else beat us to them but I found out something odd. They were all

female. Is there some element of your procedure that is gender exclusive?”

“Not unless the mutation affects women differently than men.” He shook his head.

“We need to know more about these test subjects. Is there any chance you can get me a
passenger manifest or whatever passes for one around here?”

“I’ll certainly try,” Mal Ton promised.
“I can’t imagine why Bryson would think I need off-world test subjects in the first

place. Has the mutation spread beyond these two planets?”

“I haven’t heard about outbreaks anywhere else.” Mal Ton looked at Roark. “Have

you?”

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It was a clever ploy to encourage her to converse with him. Roark appreciated the

effort. “To my knowledge it’s just Stilox and Protaria. Stilox was ravaged by the initial
outbreak but there have actually been more cases of mutation on Protaria.”

“And the Protarians don’t share your triploid physiology.”
“Everything about them is inferior,” Mal Ton added with an arrogant smirk.
“Do your people know how long they’ve possessed the triple helix?”
She addressed the question to Mal Ton, but Roark answered. “He’s a soldier. I’m a

scientist. We can continue to talk through him if you like, but you might want to
remember that he suggested the deception.”

After a long pause, she turned her head and met his gaze. “Unless you want me off

this planet, I wouldn’t bring it up again.”

“Fine.” Roark consciously relaxed his jaw so he could speak without growling.

“Why do you keep coming back to the triple helix?”

“I barely scratched the surface while you left me alone in here, but I suspect the

third strand is an intentional redundancy.”

“How will it help you reverse the mutation?” Mal Ton asked.
“If every person is carrying around an uncorrupted copy of their DNA, I should be

able to use it as a pattern for transcription. That is if I can get RENA to play nicely with
your physiology.”

“I understood about half of that.” Mal Ton shook his head and stood up. “What do

you need to get started?”

“I’ll give her a tour of the lab,” Roark said. “Then we’ll let you know.”

* * * * *

“The cargo list was manipulated. Our mutual friend needs accurate information.

Once you’ve learned the truth, share the details with our mutual friend and then return
to me. We can no longer risk any form of transmission so I’m glad you like to travel. As
always, you are invaluable.” Nehalem blew out a sigh and deleted the encrypted
message. The chances of interception were minimal yet Fane wouldn’t have asked this
of her if there was any other way.

Had the order come from Fane or had it been issued in his name? “Invaluable” was

a code word Fane used to authenticate his messages so she was confident the Mutant
Underground was making the request if not Fane himself. She fervently hoped he was
still alive but the computer-generated voice made it impossible to know for sure.

Navigating through a series of menus, she accessed communications and entered

Daniel Keller’s identification code. Only two people knew the true identities of the
passengers on the downed transport—General Bryson and Chancellor Howyn. She
wasn’t on speaking terms with her husband and her interest would only make him
suspicious so that left Keller. A locater pulse revealed his location. He was still in his
office on the fourth floor of Chancellor Howyn’s headquarters.

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“Always the last to depart,” she muttered. “Such dedication.”
Should she wait until he went home? It would decrease the chances of them being

caught on a surveillance feed. No, it might work to her advantage to surprise him at
work. He’d be less likely to make a scene.

Changing into a slinky brown dress with just a hint of shimmer, she covered the

sexy ensemble with a dark brown cape and headed for the tram station. Twenty
minutes later she stepped off the tram and crossed Old Towne Square, the heart of
Sanctum’s business district.

Lights in many windows proved that Keller wasn’t the only one with an inflated

sense of responsibility. Her government level clearance got her into the building but her
first obstacle would be getting an elevator to take her to the fourth floor. She’d been
loitering in the lobby for a few minutes debating her options when someone exited one
of the cars. Flashing a friendly smile, she ducked inside the lift before the door slid
closed behind the worker.

“Fourth floor,” she instructed the computer, holding her breath as she waited for a

response. Some lifts required identification to board the car. Others used scans to
determine access to individual floors.

“That area is restricted. Please step in front of the scanner.”
Damn it. She wanted to surprise him. There was no way around it. Keller would

have to activate the lift. “Person-to-person page, Daniel Keller.”

Light flickered within the companel then Keller’s face came into focus. “Is there

something I can help you with, Mrs. Bryson?”

She let the cape part, revealing the formfitting dress beneath. “You stood me up last

night. That wasn’t nice.”

“I thought you were coming to me,” he said after a slight pause.
“I’m here now.”
The elevator started moving and she smiled.
He waited for her halfway down the corridor on her right. His shoulder rested

against the threshold and his gaze followed the sway of her hips. “We’ll have a lot more
privacy if you—”

She wrapped her arms around his neck pushed him back into his office with the

momentum of her embrace. “I don’t mind an audience. Do you?” Her mouth found his
before he could answer. She kissed him feverishly and raised one of her legs to rest on
his hip.

Grasping her thigh with one hand, he slipped the other under her dress and boldly

cupped her ass. “I can mute audio,” he whispered against her lips, “but video is
monitored continually. If the signal is blocked for any reason, security will burst
through the door.”

“Tell me when it’s safe to talk.”

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He circled her slowly, speaking only when his back was to the door. “The

transmitter is in the corner beside the door and at least one person on each shift can
read lips.”

Kicking off her shoes, she turned toward the door and produced her sexiest smile.

“Maybe you better strip search me. I could have concealed weapons.” She locked her
hands behind her head and let challenge fill her eyes.

“They’ll have the whole security team crammed into that tiny office if I start

undressing you.”

She turned around, placed her hands on his desktop and spread her legs. “So let’s

give them a performance they’ll never forget.”

“If we start this, it will seem damn suspicious if you suddenly leave.”
Meaning she better let him fuck her if she wanted his cooperation. Her back was to

the transmitter so she was free to speak. “It will seem even more suspicious if you don’t
get over here.” She wasn’t opposed to a good romp. Keller was certainly easy on the
eyes. And if the vid ended up on her husband’s desk, so much the better. It was no
more than the cold bastard deserved. She glanced over her shoulder and wiggled her
butt. Did she have to do everything? “I’m waiting.”

He moved up behind her and ran his hands down her sides. “There are no

fastenings. How does this thing come off?”

Finally! She raised her arms and he lifted the dress off over her head. “Stand to one

side or the other. Make sure they can see everything you do. This is a distraction, pretty
boy. I’m not here for your amusement, well, not just for your amusement.”

Her cupless bra supported her breasts while displaying her nipples. A garter belt

held up her sheer gold stockings. She had neglected to wear panties. He cupped one of
her ass cheeks, his fingers venturing near but not touching her folds. Her core fluttered
in response to his teasing touch. This could be more fun than she’d anticipated. His
green eyes blazed with lust and an erection tented the front of his trousers. He certainly
had no problem with her chosen means of distraction.

She licked her lips and lowered her lashes. “Aren’t you going to pat me down?”
“You’re playing with fire, Nehalem.” He cupped both her breasts, his gaze drilling

into hers. His thumbs abraded her nipples and his fingers squeezed. “I can’t stop
thinking about you. Picturing you. Picturing—us. I may never let you leave this office.”

He stood at an angle to the transmitter so it was doubtful the security team could

see his face. His tone was hushed and rough. Was this more than a distraction to him?
She studied his handsome face as he explored her full breasts. His brow furrowed and
his pupils dilated.

An almost forgotten sensation stirred within her chest. He wanted her, really

wanted her. Not General Bryson’s wife, not a source of information, Keller wanted her.
Touching his face, she smiled into his eyes. “Kiss me. I want your tongue in my mouth.”

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His hand descended to cup her mound as his mouth covered hers. He stood beside

her as she’d instructed, his touch bold and questing. There was nothing hesitant in his
kiss. His lips sealed over hers and his tongue delved deep, seeking out her taste and her
moist softness. Easing his middle finger between her folds, he stroked her clit.

She reluctantly separated their mouths, pulling back just far enough so she could

speak. “I need an accurate list of the people who survived the crash.”

He leaned against the desk and pulled her in front of him. Her head shielded his

expression from the guards but they wouldn’t be entertained for long watching her bare
behind. Keller stared into her eyes, a hint of suspicion hardening his expression. Still, it
was as close as she’d come to seeing tenderness in any man’s eyes.

“Your husband made all the arrangements,” he said carefully. “Why do I need to be

involved in this?”

“Keep touching me. Give them no reason to doubt why I’m here.” His fingers

traced her spine, caressed her bottom then eased between her cheeks. “Better. Only two
people know who was really on that ship.”

“Your husband and the chancellor.”
“Padric Bryson is not my anything,” she sneered.
With a pleased smile, he moved to the side and bent her over the desk, kicking her

legs apart. He dipped his hand between her thighs and explored her damp folds.
Keeping his face angled away from the transmitter, he asked, “Why would your
employer need a list of the survivors? Rumor has it they ended up in his care.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear.” He pushed his slick finger up her ass and she

gasped, not expecting the aggressive move.

“If they don’t have the test subjects, then who does?” With teasing deliberation, he

slid his finger in and out.

She gripped the edge of the desk, her body ripe and ready to be filled. “It’s

complicated,” she whispered. He slipped his other hand between her body and the
desk, easily finding her swollen clit. The guards were sure as hell getting a show now!
Cream seeped from her core and trickled down her inner thigh. She needed his cock
inside her, not this teasing hint of penetration.

“You’re unbelievably wet.” The hand in front pushed deeper, two fingers finding

her throbbing cunt.

She rocked her hips, trying to establish some sort of rhythm. He refused to

cooperate. “Stop teasing me!”

With a wicked chuckle, he lifted her to his desk and spread her legs wide. “I’ve just

begun to tease you. Lean back on your elbows and raise your chin.” He knelt in front of
the desk and draped her legs over his shoulders. She arched her back and let her neck
relax. All the guards could see was the underside of her jaw and her up-thrust breasts.

“Start talking,” Keller prompted.

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His tongue stroked from her anus to her clit and Nehalem was lost. “There’s a

fracture in the Underground. My employer’s enemy has the survivors. My bracelet
contains a datacrystal. You have to imprint it with the list, no traceable transmissions.”

“That’s why you came in person.”
His mouth moved against her folds as he spoke and she shivered. He’d only been at

it a couple seconds. How could she be this close to orgasm already? He hadn’t really
asked a question so she just nodded and rubbed herself against his mouth.

“Why does your employer want their names?”
“I’m not sure. I was just told to get them.”
He centered his mouth over her clit and pushed his fingers back into her pussy. He

was far more skilled than she had expected. His tongue circled and flicked while his
fingers swirled and thrust. Tension built, escalating right to the pulsing brink of release.
Then he stopped.

“No!” She tossed her hips, desperate for the final touch that would send her over

the edge.

“I have work to do.” His tone was dark and possessive, sending a shiver down her

spine. “Can you find something to occupy yourself while I finish up?” Leaving her
sprawled across his desk, he moved back to his chair. He paused for an upside-down
kiss before he sat.

The bastard better not leave her aching like this or it would be the last thing he ever

did. She panted, her breasts quivering with each breath.

“If you get up on your hands and knees, I’ll multitask.” He nipped her shoulder as

he activated his workstation.

She wasn’t sure what he had in mind but she couldn’t leave without the names.

Drawing her legs up as she turned over, she knelt on top of the desk facing him. He
chuckled and made a twirling motion with his index finger.

“I want the other end.” He spun her around, the smooth desktop making the

motion effortless. “Oh yes. This view is much more interesting.”

His comment might have annoyed her if he hadn’t thrust his fingers back into her

pussy as he spoke. She moaned and scooted her knees farther apart, giving him plenty
of room to move. Her breasts swayed and she closed her eyes, imagining the guards
crowded around the vidscreen enjoying the spectacle. Knowing she was being watched
added an unexpected edge to her arousal.

Keller removed his fingers and she cried out. Not again! Was he ever going to let

her come? As if to answer her silent question, he pressed his mouth against her folds
and flicked his tongue across her clit. She arched and panted, determined not to be
deprived again. His tongue stroked then lashed her with surprising strength. He
reached beneath her and caught both her nipples, rolling the sensitive nubs with firm
pressure.

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Returning his fingers to her clit, he pushed his tongue into her sopping cunt. She

trapped a scream in her throat as hard, deep pulses of sensation shook her entire body.
He dragged her legs off the side of the desk and impaled her with his cock. His forceful
entry detonated another burst of pleasure. She tossed her head and clenched her jaw,
lost in the sensual onslaught.

He pounded into her hard and fast, rocking her with each thrust. His hands

gripped her hips and the desk dug into her skin. Leaning farther forward, she clutched
the opposite side of the desktop, providing leverage for his penetration.

“Yes! Oh gods yes.”
His uninhibited cry thrilled her. He was always so calm and composed. She

squeezed him tightly with her inner muscles, savoring the fullness of his shaft. Pleasure
gathered and swirled, the intensity building with each forceful drive. He wrapped one
arm around her hips, pulling her feet off the carpet as he buried his full length inside
her. The first hot spurt of his seed triggered her orgasm. She shuddered and moaned,
her body echoing his pleasure.

“Your bracelet is imprinted,” he whispered the words against her ear and she went

cold. For just a moment she’d forgotten this was a mission, that they weren’t really
lovers desperate for each other’s touch. He pulled out and slapped her bottom hard
enough to make her yelp. “If you want more, it will have to wait. I really do have work
to do.”

She straightened with as much dignity as she could muster and manufactured a

sexy smile. “I wait for no man, pretty boy. If work gets boring, you know where to find
me.”

* * * * *

Three days passed in an exhausting rush of discovery and frustration. Roark

explained that the third strand of DNA possessed by the Stilox was a protective
redundancy as Andrea had surmised. The genetic characteristic allowed them to resist
illness and disease as well as realize their physical potential.

Andrea had never encountered a triploid species before and her fascination

diverted her attention from the task at hand. Roark answered her myriad questions and
patiently brought her back on track. Concentrating on the project did little to help her
resist his appeal. He was brilliant, methodical and utterly desirable.

Mal Ton kept his distance for the most part. He’d strolled into the lab twice with his

characteristic swagger and asked how they were progressing. Roark shooed him away
but Mal Ton’s gaze lingered on Andrea with obvious longing.

Nights were miserable. Andrea tossed and turned in her empty bunk, trying to

convince herself she wanted to be alone. They had manipulated her in the most
humiliating way. How could she feel anything but distrust and resentment for either of
them? Still, her mind replayed their erotic encounters and her body burned for more.
She’d never thought of herself as particularly passionate. Her life had been well-

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ordered and routine. Then Roark and Mal Ton released a part of her nature that refused
to be suppressed again.

“Damn it,” Andrea muttered as the DNA strands deteriorated for the hundredth

time. She sat beside Roark in the lab, a holoprojector simulating genetic transcription.

“Did you have this much trouble stabilizing the transcription on Earth?”
“Yes and no. Once we identified the backbone as the source of the instability, we

were able to synthesize a substitute.”

“RENA?”
She nodded. “But RENA is designed to emulate the phosphate-sugar-phosphate

backbone of human DNA. The silicone in yours is hindering RENA’s effectiveness.” She
made another adjustment and restarted the simulation. “Has Mal Ton found out
anything more about the test subjects? From which planet did Bryson recruit them?”

“They were all from Earth.” Roark sounded confused. “I thought you knew that.”
She pushed back from the workstation and faced Roark. “That makes absolutely no

sense. I presumed Bryson located other races with triploid physiology. Humans are
biologically inferior to the Stilox.”

“As Mal Ton is fond of pointing out.”
She scrambled for an explanation then realized the futility of her attempt. How

could she hope to guess Bryson’s motivation when she didn’t know what he was trying
to accomplish? “How many survived the crash?”

“Eleven, I think. You’ll have to ask Mal Ton.”
Eleven human women were now at the mercy of… She wasn’t sure who had the

test subjects. Mal Ton had told her someone rescued the women before he got there but
that was all he would say. She’d definitely have to delve more deeply into this subject
the next time she saw the commander.

Andrea shivered. Despite the echo of pleasure tingling through her body, she

attributed the reaction to fear and dread. The Stilox were ruthless and self-serving. They
would stop at nothing…to ensure their survival. How could she blame them for
wanting to live? Wouldn’t any human do the same?

They had robbed her of her freedom and exploited her loneliness. So why did her

compassion grow with each passing day? She’d demanded respect and they had
extended her every courtesy. And still she was restless and discontent. With a
frustrated sigh, she retraced her mental tangent.

“Speaking of Mal Ton,” she muttered as the simulation began a new cycle. “I was

reading about the development of the inhibitor last night. The ‘source’ isn’t named, but
you said Mal Ton is the only one you know who was alive when the war began.”

After a noticeable pause, Roark explained, “There were seven soldiers, all from the

same unit. Mal Ton is one of them.”

“The documentation is vague at best. If they all belonged to the same military unit,

then their resistance to the lentavirus couldn’t have been a natural anomaly.” Roark

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looked uncomfortable. He glanced at the door as if he expected Mal Ton to come
storming in. “Is this classified or something? Why are you so nervous?”

“Mal Ton refuses to discuss exactly what was done to him, but it was done against

his will and it was done by the Stilox government.”

She didn’t need to imagine what it felt like to be betrayed by her own government.

No wonder Mal Ton could be difficult. “How does this relate to the inhibitor?”

“The Protarians have always outnumbered us, but we’re faster, stronger and more

technologically advanced. So they used a variety of biological weapons on our soldiers.
In turn, our military developed soldiers who were resistant, even immune, to the
weapons.”

“Mal Ton is one of these soldiers?”
“Mal Ton was part of a program designed to end the war.” Wistfulness crept into

his tone. “They were engineered to be aggressive, ruthless and physically superior.”

“The war is still going on, so what went wrong?”
“Instead of ending the war, it prolonged it.” Roark shook his head, obviously

uncomfortable with the topic. “The Protarians realized we had a superior fighting force
so they concentrated on long-range weapons. They struck from farther and farther
away until our planet was decimated. And when we still refused to surrender, they
attempted genocide.”

“But your unique physiology allowed you to survive?”
“The redundant strand in our DNA makes us damn hard to kill, but it was the

soldiers who saved us. Their nanoimmunites robbed the Protarians of their victory.” He
didn’t sound smug or even pleased, just resigned to a past he couldn’t change.

“You said the inhibitor only slows the mutation. Aren’t we searching for a cure?”
“We’re talking about two different formulas. Both were derived from the

nanotechnology used on the soldiers, but they do different things. The first augmented
our immune system and helped us combat the onset illness. It was this formula that
eventually became the vaccine you were given. The other compound is the inhibitor,
which slows mutation.”

She rubbed her temples as she absorbed the details. “If the weapon was only used

on Stilox, how did the mutation end up on Protaria?”

“Desperate refugees flocked to Protaria, inadvertently returning the plague to its

maker.”

The door slid open and Mal Ton strode into the lab, followed by a beautiful auburn-

haired woman. Roark stepped in front of Andrea as if to shield her with his body.

“What the hell is she doing here?” Roark asked.
“She risked her life to bring us the information Andrea requested,” Mal Ton

replied. “My men tend to shoot first and ask questions later.”

Andrea moved to Roark’s side and extended her hand toward the redhead. “I’m

Andrea Raynier, and you are?”

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“Nehalem.” She cautiously took Andrea’s hand obviously unsure what was

expected of her.

“Nehalem Bryson, first lesser wife of General Padric Bryson, esteemed member of

the Protarian nobility.” Roark made no attempt to conceal his suspicion or his
bitterness.

“First lesser wife?” Andrea released Nehalem’s hand, unable to conceal a smile. It

was obviously not the fact Roark had meant to draw her attention to, but the phrase
jumped out at her. “How many does he have?” Bryson had made such a stink about the
Stilox sharing their women and all along he’d had his own harem. What a hypocrite!

“Bryson is irrelevant to this situation,” Mal Ton insisted.
“I disagree,” Roark said. “The source of the information must be taken into

consideration.”

“You haven’t even heard what she has to say.”
“Mal Ton only learned about Andrea because he was in a better position to

intercept her than we were.” Nehalem’s tone cut with just as sharp an edge as Roark’s.
“I represent the Mutant Underground, not General Bryson.” As she made the
distinction, her light brown eyes erupted with amber fire.

Tension melted from Roark’s posture. “How far has your transformation

progressed?”

“The inhibitor has kept my mutation virtually dormant for a year.”
Bryson could be using his wife’s affliction to garner their trust. Everyone Andrea

had come in contact with since leaving Earth had deceived her. Was it any wonder she
remained suspicious? “What did you learn?”

Nehalem moved toward the workstation. “Can you pause…whatever this is?”
“Pause simulation,” Roark said and the holoprojection blinked off.
Unfastening her bracelet, Nehalem inserted one end into the dataport and waited

for an image to appear. “These are the survivors Max snatched from the crash site. Fane
is still trying to find them, but no one seems to know why Bryson wanted them. Fane
thought Andrea might know.”

Andrea read down the list, her shock growing with each name she recognized. “I

treated all of these women. Their ailments were different, but all of them went through
the RENA program.”

“What is the significance of that?” Mal Ton asked.
“Bryson led me to believe I held the wining recipe. What if that was misdirection?”

Andrea pressed her hand to her throat, her mouth so dry she could hardly speak.
“Maybe I’m not the chef at all. Maybe I’m one of the ingredients.”

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Chapter Eight

Roark looked from the list of names to Andrea’s flushed face, trying to conceal his

confusion. “I understand the cooking analogy, but what makes you think there’s
another chef?”

“From day one I’ve wondered why the Protarians would unleash a lentavirus they

couldn’t control.” Her voice was hushed, her expression revealing her distraction.
“Even if it was deployed on another planet, it seems foolish unless they had some way
of protecting themselves.”

“You think Bryson lured you here under false pretenses?” Mal Ton asked.
“I’m not sure but this can’t be a coincidence.”
“I agree,” Nehalem said. “So what can Bryson’s scientists learn from these women?

What does he gain by bringing them here?”

“Are you Protarian or Stilox?”
Suspicion shot through Roark. He glanced at Mal Ton. The commander’s gaze was

narrowed and he folded his arms over his chest. Roark wasn’t the only one troubled by
Andrea’s evasion.

“I’m Protarian.” Nehalem’s posture stiffened and she pursed her lips. “How is this

relevant to the mystery?”

“When was your onset illness?” Andrea headed for the doorway connecting the lab

with the infirmary. “I’d like to take a couple of samples and run some scans. You’re part
of the Protarian elite. It stands to reason that you would have been given the best care
available once you developed symptoms.”

“When did this become about me?” Nehalem remained near Mal Ton. Neither

made a move to follow Andrea. “If the Protarian Council already has a cure for the
virus, why did they send Bryson to barter with your government?”

“I can’t answer that but these tests should give us a clearer picture of where we

stand.”

Nehalem looked from Mal Ton to Roark and back, clearly at a loss for words.

Andrea had a point, but her sudden shift of focus bothered Roark. “We are grateful for
the risk you’ve taken on our behalf and this would give us an invaluable glimpse into
the mind of the opposition.”

Mal Ton reinforced Roark’s comment with a rare smile and Nehalem nodded.
Sweeping his arm toward the connecting door, Roark ushered the spy into the

infirmary. Andrea mouthed the words “thank you” as she passed in front of him, but he
had no intention of letting her off the hook so easily. He’d sensed she was hiding

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something ever since he met her and her odd behavior propelled his suspicions to the
surface.

Easily anticipating what Andrea needed, he scanned Nehalem and took the

appropriate blood and tissue samples. The beautiful spy tensed as if she were about to
be tortured every time Andrea approached so Roark did his best to keep some distance
between the two.

“Does anyone know you’re here?” he asked as he logged the last sample.
“I don’t believe so.”
“Would you mind sticking around until we’ve had a few hours to analyze and

process these samples?”

“Of course not.” She slipped off the side of the treatment table and curved her hand

around Mal Ton’s upper arm. “I’ll find something to occupy my attention until you’re
through with me.”

Mal Ton led her into the corridor and Roark turned back to Andrea. Ignoring the

other woman’s antics, Andrea stood at the workstation watching the results begin to
scroll across the vidscreen.

“How could she have led Mal Ton to me? I’ve seen Mal Ton’s eyes flash like that

woman’s did. How far along has his mutation progressed?”

Roark faced the vidscreen also, unsure how much he should tell her. Certain details

were irrelevant to the cure and she obviously had no intention of cooperating beyond
that one task.

“The mutation often imbues the victim with paranormal abilities, telepathy,

telekinesis, clairvoyance. Mal Ton has been able to transmit thoughts for as long as I’ve
known him, but his empathic abilities are escalating at an alarming rate.”

“She mentioned the Mutant Underground. What is that?”
“When people are no longer able to hide their transformation, many disappear into

a closed society dedicated to the protection and survival of, well, mutants.”

She faced him for the first time since the others left the lab, leaning her hip against

the workstation. “By closed society do you mean they don’t welcome visitors or do they
live completely separate from other people?”

“They are amazingly elusive. We know they are somewhere on Protaria. Mal Ton

believes they’re within or beneath the capital city. It was his search for information
regarding their leader that led him to Nehalem.”

“He thought he was—pumping her for information when in reality she was giving

him exactly what she wanted him to know.”

“Apparently so.” She scrolled down to the next set of test results so Roark said,

“Members of the Mutant Underground have the most to gain by your discovering a
cure. It’s really not surprising that they had a hand in your capture.”

“Here we go.” Activating the holoprojector, she stepped back as Nehalem’s full

body scan appeared in front of them. Magnifying a cross section with a touch of her

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fingertips, Andrea studied the image. “There’s no way the original lentavirus created
this mutation. The antigen is completely different.”

Roark pulled up a diagram of the protein marker from his archive files and overlaid

it with the segment of Nehalem’s scan. “Good eye. It looks like the Protarians haven’t
lost their interest in genetics after all.”

* * * * *

Daniel Keller jerked his arms out of the restraining hands of the guards as they

reached General Bryson’s office. It had taken far longer for his wife’s indiscretion to
wend its way through the gossip mill than Keller anticipated. He’d been expecting this
confrontation ever since Nehalem sashayed out of his office three days before.

The door slid open and one of the guards shoved him through the threshold. They

took up posts on either side of the door yet remained in the hall. Bryson sat behind his
desk, arms folded in front of him. His dark eyes stared back at Keller like polished
obsidian.

“Resume play,” the general said, and a holoprojection appeared above his desk.
Keller knew what he would see and still the image sent lust curling to his crotch.

Nehalem’s lovely face was contorted with pleasure and her breasts jostled each time he
slammed into her willing body.

“Was this the first time you fucked my wife?”
He couldn’t very well deny it when they were watching the act in full color and

sound. “Yes, sir.”

“Sir?” Bryson scoffed. “If you had any measure of respect for me, you never would

have touched Nehalem.”

“She makes no secret of her affairs. I presumed you lost interest once she proved to

be infertile.”

“She’s still my wife!” He moved around the desk, watching the projection from

every angle. “She’s always been a lusty bitch and I turned a blind eye while she
attempted to be discreet. The more latitude I allowed her, the more outrageous she
became.”

Did Bryson enjoy watching her being fucked by other men? Why hadn’t he

deactivated the projection? Keller folded his hands in front of him in a useless effort to
hide his erection. Nehalem had been hot and eager, her cunt so well toned he’d thought
he’d died.

Keller came with a muffled grunt and slapped her on the ass. Bryson finally

powered down the projector. Now what?

“Why you?” Bryson asked.
How the hell was he supposed to answer that? “You would have to ask Nehalem. I

developed an interest in her after I spotted her with Adoha and she returned that
interest.”

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“Bullshit. Half of the fun for my little whore wife is hunting down her prey. Was

anything missing when she left your office? Could she have planted some sort of bug?”

“My office is continually scanned for microtransmitters. I apologize for my

indiscretion. I honestly didn’t think you would care.”

“You’re either a liar or a fool. Where is she?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t seen or heard from her in the past few days.” At least the

first statement was true. Bryson’s little wife couldn’t get enough. She’d been waiting on
Keller’s shuttle when he’d finally finished up that night. His cock was in her mouth
before they ever left the ground. He’d enjoyed her enthusiasm all through the night but
the following morning she’d disappeared. With all the recourses at his disposal, he still
hadn’t been able to locate her.

For a long time Bryson said nothing. “We never had this conversation. If she comes

to you again, give her what she wants. Keep it going for as long as you can. She’s up to
something and I need to know what it is.”

“You want me to spy on Nehalem?”
“This doesn’t need to distract you from your duties. If she comes back for more of

what you gave her on the desk, use it to our advantage. I know she’s helping those
damn mutants. See if you can find out who her contact is or where the hell she goes.”
Bryson slipped back into his chair and restarted the security feed. “Somehow I don’t
think you’ll mind the assignment.”

Unbelievable! How many times had Bryson watched this scene? Fury boiled within

him and he clenched his hands into fists. He’d never intended for Nehalem to become
more than an entertaining diversion. Bryson’s attitude and his suspicions made Keller
anxious to take a closer look. If she had a vested interest in mutants, she might prove
more interesting than he’d first thought.

“You may go.”
The general’s impatient order snapped Keller out of his contemplation. With one

last glance at the holoprojection, he took his leave.

* * * * *

For the next two hours Andrea and Roark analyzed Nehalem’s DNA. Andrea’s

instincts were faultless. More often than not their findings proved her hypothesis rather
than leading her to conclusions.

“Get her back in here,” Andrea said passionately. “If she wasn’t motivated to take

down Bryson before, she will be now.”

“Let’s tell Mal Ton what we’ve figured out and let him decide what to do with the

information.”

“No. She’s been manipulated and physically modified. She has a right to know.”
Her breasts heaved and the flush across her cheeks had brightened to a deep rose.

“Are you all right?”

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“I’m fine!” She raked her hair with her fingers and her other hand in the side seam

pocket of her pants. “I feel like a bitch in heat, but I’m just dandy.”

He’d gotten so used to his perpetual erection he was able to ignore the pressure as

long as his mind was occupied. “Do you need to return to your quarters before we tell
Nehalem what we’ve learned?”

“No.” She licked her lips. Her gaze started down his body then she snapped her

attention back to his face. “I need to find the switch that turns it off. I can’t spend the
rest of my life with one hand buried between my thighs.”

He grinned. “Anytime you’re willing to explore alternatives just let me know.”
“Nothing helps. Even after you and Mal Ton… I woke up ready for more. Nothing

makes it stop. I still crave you.”

Approaching her slowly, he kept his gaze fixed on her eyes. She hadn’t spoken of

that night and certainly hadn’t admitted she still wanted him. “Do you need me or do
you need—us?” He wasn’t sure he cared anymore. If sharing her with Mal Ton was the
only way he could have her, he was willing to investigate the option.

“I dream of you every night and wake up on fire. Sometimes Mal Ton is there too

but mostly it’s just you.” She shook her head, her gaze suddenly sad. “This isn’t how
it’s supposed to be. Lust shouldn’t be an addiction.”

Maybe it’s more than lust. He didn’t speak the words but they rang through his heart

and filled his mind with hope. “We’ll figure this out together, but there is no reason for
us to suffer in the meantime. After Mal Ton left that night, you slept like a baby in my
arms. We might not be able to drive back the hunger indefinitely, but we can give
ourselves a few hours of peace.”

“Something is causing this hunger. It’s not natural.” She paused and he nodded in

agreement. “So what happens if we figure out how to turn it off and I discover I don’t
even like you?”

“I enjoy working with you. What little time we’ve had to ourselves has been

comfortable and pleasant. I know I like you even when I’m not overcome with lust. If
you find you don’t feel the same, we’ll deal with it then.” Part confidence and part
genuine affection allowed him to sound so calm. He wasn’t willing to lose her so he had
to take it one step at a time.

She nodded and glanced toward his office door with obvious longing. Did she want

to play in his office or was she thinking about the adjoining bedroom? Either plan was
fine with him.

Andrea dragged her gaze away from Roark’s office door with a sigh. “Let’s educate

Nehalem then we’ll go scratch our mutual itch.” She’d started to make similar
suggestions countless times over the last few days. All he had to do was lean in close
and let his spicy scent filled her nose and sensations ricocheted all through her body.

“Are you sure you don’t want to—”

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“Once I have you naked, you’re going to stay that way for a good long time.”
“Promise?”
She chuckled. “Promise.”
Roark tapped his audiocom and said, “Talbot to Adoha. Please return to the

infirmary.” She couldn’t hear Mal Ton’s response, but Roark said, “Copy. They’re on
their way.”

“If Nehalem is Bryson’s wife, how did Mal Ton get anywhere near her?”
“Mal Ton can be extremely resourceful.” Roark paused for a secretive smile.

“Nehalem was on a quest to recapture Bryson’s attention so she worked her way
through a progressively more scandalous string of lovers. Mal Ton set himself squarely
in her path and allowed her to seduce him. He didn’t think she realized who he was,
just that he was Stilox. Apparently, she was playing him all along.”

“That’s got to sting.”
“Oddly enough, he’ll probably admire her for it. Those who have bested Mal Ton

are few and far between.” The infirmary door slid open and Nehalem entered followed
immediately by Mal Ton. Their companionable demeanor proved Roark’s point for him.

“What can we do for you?” Mal Ton asked.
Andrea had been rather waspish when Nehalem first arrived so she tried a more

diplomatic approach. “First and foremost, your symptoms are not being caused by the
virus used in the original weapon.”

“How is that possible?” Amber light flickered through her light brown eyes and she

looked to Mal Ton for reassurance.

“This is a good thing,” Andrea assured. “The virus affecting you is much less

aggressive. You were led to believe the inhibitor is hindering your transformation, but I
don’t believe that’s true.”

“Let me start at the beginning,” Roark suggested. “This is rather confusing. We

found the antigen or protein marker left behind by the original lentavirus, but it has
been nullified. You’re cured.”

“That’s odd,” Nehalem let her eyes flash with amber fire, “I don’t feel cured.”
“You were given a second, less virulent virus about eighteen months ago.”
Her eyes rounded and she covered her mouth with one trembling hand. “They set

me up. They…mutated me so I’d seek out Fane.”

“Does Bryson know you succeeded in joining the Mutant Underground?”
“Oh gods, Fane’s condition started deteriorating shortly after I came in contact with

him. What if I made him sick?”

“We have no way of knowing unless we run tests on Fane,” Roark told her.
“No way. I’m not leading anyone else to Fane. If Bryson is on to me, I’ve put you all

in danger.”

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“You’ve also brought us vital information. We now know the Protarians can nullify

their creation. If your DNA wasn’t tainted with the second virus, I might have been able
to replicate their work.”

“So we’ll bring you someone with untainted DNA.” The fury in Nehalem’s gaze

made it obvious she had someone specific in mind.

“Bryson is far too dangerous,” Mal Ton insisted. “Even dead I couldn’t risk

bringing him here. Who is your second choice? They have to be in the highest order of
the elite.”

She chuckled, a cold menacing sound. “I know just the person.”

* * * * *

Andrea turned around in a slow circle, amazed by the transformation. Darkness

blotted out the skyline, leaving only the twisted shadow of ruined buildings and a vast
expanse of starry sky. After exhausting their options in the lab, Roark had disappeared
for a short time. Now she knew why.

He’d spread several thick blankets near the center of the observation deck and

arranged pillows and oddly shaped cushions around the parameter of the makeshift
bed. A low tray held glasses of wine and a selection of finger foods. The faint sound of
rustling leaves and night birds reached her ears and she could no longer suppress a
dreamy smile. Bathed in the moon’s silvery light, the platform seemed to float in the
velvet embrace of night.

“This is lovely.”
“It requires a little imagination, but I thought you’d like it.” He tucked a stray

strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering against her skin. “I’ve wanted to
see you wearing nothing but moonlight ever since I brought you up here that first day.”

“Can we enjoy the picnic first?” If he continued touching her, she’d be lost and she

wanted to enjoy a moment of normalcy before they surrendered to the demands of their
bodies.

With a pained look, he inclined his head and locked his hands behind his back. “Of

course. This was the best I could do on a whim.”

“It was a very romantic whim. I appreciate the effort.” He led her to the blankets

and they kicked off their shoes then sat facing each other. “What were you working on
right before you came up here? I know it wasn’t Nehalem’s case.”

He handed her one of the glasses and took the other for himself. “Are you sure you

want to get into this right now?”

“I suspect it’s relevant to how we intend to spend the rest of the night. You were

acting squirrelly even before Mal Ton took off on his mysterious errand.”

“I’m not sure what squirrelly means, but I’ll take your word for it.” After a quick

sip of wine, he went on, “Your concern about conception the other night made me rerun
some of your scans. I detected stritesterone in your bloodstream.”

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“I don’t know what that is.”
“It’s the Stilox equivalent of testosterone. It’s this hormone that spikes in both men

and women to create sexual aggressiveness.”

“The only person who injected me with anything is Mal Ton.” She’d suspected

she’d been drugged all along. Given Mal Ton’s chosen strategy, it only made sense that
he would have added a little something extra to the vaccine.

“This is more complicated than a single injection. Your body seems to be producing

the hormone.”

“How is that possible?”
“I have a theory, but I can’t prove or disprove it without more sophisticated

equipment. Stritesterone isn’t an aphrodisiac, but it definitely makes a person more apt
to act upon their desire.”

She gulped down half of her wine, torn between disbelief and curiosity. It was a

relief to know there was a physical cause for her wantonness. Still, what had they done
to her? Was the change permanent? Who had…? “Tell me about your theory?”

“I suspect you’ve been injected with an endocrine nanite.”
“Nanotechnology is in its infancy on Earth. Unless Mal Ton did this to me, how

would this nanite have gotten into my body?”

“Mal Ton doesn’t have access to this type of technology any more than I do. This is

why I wasn’t going to tell you tonight. I have far more questions than answers.”

“Are your levels elevated as well?”
“Yes. I’m not sure if my body is responding to what’s going on with you or if I’ve

been infected with a nanite as well. All of the equipment in my lab is painfully
rudimentary.”

“Who would have access to this sort of nanite?”
“There are several research laboratories on Protaria that specialize in

nanotechnology and Bryson would have access to all of them.”

“But Bryson never had direct access to me.”
“Most nanites are programmed with self-navigation. They can be ingested or even

inhaled. If the director of Medicort was cooperating with Bryson—”

“I get the picture.” She drew her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around

her knees. “And I’ve lost my appetite.”

“I’m sorry. This is not how I wanted to spend our time alone.” His warm fingers

stroked from her elbow to her wrist. “I sent samples of our blood to one of our
operatives on Protaria. We should know more some time tomorrow.”

She just nodded, feeling invaded and angry. A microscopic machine was inside her

body creating sexual frenzy. Roark might trust Mal Ton, but she wasn’t nearly as
certain. Perhaps Nehalem hadn’t played Mal Ton after all. Maybe they were both
working for her husband.

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Roark scooted closer, his legs on either side of hers. “Let’s talk about something

else. You know a bit about my past, but I know little more than your professional
dossier. Do you have family? Have you ever been married? What did you do before you
accepted the position with Medicort?”

“My professional dossier is the story of my life.” Her smile was just a bit sad. “I

came to Medicort right out of college and have lived for my work ever since. My
mother died when I was fourteen and my father remarried three years later. I have two
half brothers who are quite a bit younger than I am. What else did you ask?”

“Marriage. Have you ever been in love?”
“That’s two different questions. There was a man in college, but he moved on with

his life when I accepted the position with Medicort. He had no desire to live on a space
station and our affection wasn’t strong enough to survive the separation.”

“I’m sorry.”
“I often wonder how different my life would have been if I had chosen him instead

of Medicort.”

“I think we all have those sorts of crossroads in our lives. It’s what keeps the

journey interesting.”

His easy manner helped her relax. Mal Ton might command the intensity of a

tempest but Roark had the mystique of distant thunder. It might take a lifetime to
explore all of his hidden depths. And she was beginning to think she would enjoy each
new discovery.

“You said Baylie was a long time ago. Has there been anyone special since?”
He eased her hands off her knees and guided her legs over his hips, pulling her

closer and closer. “There’s someone pretty damn special right here.”

She laughed, needing the emotional release more than he knew. “Do you mean me

or you?”

“Fishing for compliments?” He pressed his fingers against her jawline and traced

her lower lip with his thumb. “I’m fascinated by the way you think. You come from a
civilization that’s relatively primitive yet you are extraordinary. I’d love to see what you
could accomplish in a nurturing environment.”

He hadn’t praised her beauty or the size of her breasts and she had never been so

moved by a compliment. “Thank you.”

“Would you like more wine?” His thumb kept up its featherlight caress while

desire smoldered in his eyes.

She shook her head and pushed her fingers into his thick, wavy hair. “Kiss me.”
He leaned down, pressing his mouth over hers. Time spun away as their breaths

mingled. He smelled clean and spicy and just a bit foreign. Uniquely Roark. His taste
was even better than his smell she knew, but he was in no hurry tonight. He brushed
his lips back and forth, turning his head one way and then the other.

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She parted her lips in silent invitation, wanting his tongue in her mouth. He traced

her lips but refused to venture inside. Anxious for the intimacy, she took the initiative.
He could never remain passive for long. With a quiet growl, he curled his tongue
around hers and deepened the kiss.

His hands never stopped moving. He combed his fingers through her hair and

caressed her neck. She untucked his shirt and slipped her hands up under the material,
desperate for the heat of his skin. He took the action one step farther, tugging her top
off over her head.

They separated as their shirts went flying then he pulled her back into his arms. Her

naked breasts flattened against his bare chest and they groaned in unison. The springy
hair on his chest tickled her nipples and she squirmed, needing his touch and his
mouth’s firm pull.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, grinding her mound against his erection.

His leisurely pace was frustrating her. She’d ached for days with only the pathetic relief
of her own fingers to keep her from going insane.

He chuckled and eased her back. “You keep that up and I’ll come before I get my

pants off. These past few days have been hell.”

“Tell me about it.”
“We have to untangle if we’re going to undress.”
Rubbing her breasts against his chest, she squeezed his shoulders then his arms.

“I’m not sure I can be without you that long.”

With another throaty chuckle, he helped her to her knees. The position put her

breast on a level with his face and she didn’t get any farther. One of his hands cupped
her breast while he captured her nipple between his teeth. She yelped then he suckled
and she dropped her head back with a breathy sigh. He delivered hard, long pulls to
first one nipple then the other. She’d dreamed of the heat and the amazing sensation
that zinged between her nipples and her clit.

His mouth continued its greedy homage while his hands went to work on her

pants. He unfastened them and bunched them around her knees. She opened her eyes
and stared at the stars as his fingers explored her tingling flesh. He touched her
everywhere, avoiding the spots that needed him most for a little while longer.
Squeezing her bottom, he drew her cheeks apart and let the cool air tease her heated
secrets.

“Up you go,” he murmured around her nipple.
She struggled to her feet and stepped out of her pants, her nipples still wet from his

kisses. He nuzzled her belly while he stoked her thighs and tickled the backs of her
knees. She arched away from the light caress and his mouth lowered to her slit. After
only one lick, he pulled back and looked into her eyes.

“Will you do something for me?”

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She’d do anything as long as he didn’t stop touching her but her answer was less

revealing. “Of course.”

He motioned to the mound of pillows behind her. “Lie down on your back and let

me look at you. Raise your arms above your head and…bend your knees so I can see all
of you.”

The hesitation in his voice filled her with feminine power. He wasn’t afraid or

unsure. Roark knew his way around the bedroom. His desire was so acute he was
fighting for control. His desire for her.

She sat first, keeping her legs together, then she leaned back against the pillows and

spread out her hair. With her gaze boring into his, she raised her arms and relaxed her
thighs. Her outer lips parted then her folds, now he could see everything.

He opened his mouth dragging in great gulps of air. His hands shook as he

unfastened his pants and all but tore them off. His urgency had an oddly calming effect
on her overstimulated senses. He needed her as badly as she needed him. They were in
this together.

“Now what?” she purred.
“Has your appetite returned?”
She chucked and licked her lips. “That depends on what you intend to feed me.”
Curling his fingers around his shaft, he stroked himself as his eyes told her all she

needed to know. “The problem is I’m hungry too. How about if we feed each other?”
She started to get up, but he shook his head. “I want to be on top.”

She scooted down, making plenty of room for his legs on the blanket. He stood over

her for a moment, still stroking his cock. It was such a dominant motion, so primal and
savage. Her pulse leapt and her pussy twitched.

“Don’t stop,” she whispered.
He bared his teeth and aimed his cock at her breasts, his hand moving in fast, hard

strokes. Pulling down on his balls, he shuddered then resumed his punishing speed. A
bead of clear liquid appeared on the very tip and he dragged his hand away.

“Enough!” He lowered himself over her, straddling her face. “I’ve had enough of

my own fist to last a lifetime. I want to feel your soft mouth.”

She ran her hands up his thighs and clasped his hips as he pushed into her mouth.

The faint salty, rich taste indicated how close he’d come to release. She swirled her
tongue over the plump head and savored the silky liquid.

For a long moment he paused, paralyzed by the sensations or lost in the pleasure,

she wasn’t sure which.

“That feels so good.”
She sucked hard just once then pulled back so she could speak. “I thought you were

hungry too.”

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“Is this what you want?” He pulled her legs up and spread them wide, pinning

them there with his muscular arms. His tongue flicked against her clit then pushed into
her creamy passage.

Instead of responding with words, she sucked his cock back into her mouth and

resumed her feast. He was hot and hard, the shaft throbbing against her tongue as he
slid between her lips.

His weight shifted and she heard a faint scrape like a hinge or a locking mechanism.

She couldn’t see what he was doing, could only feel the warm caress of his tongue and
the shuttle of his cock in her mouth.

He licked her folds, sucking the delicate flesh with intentional care. She tried to

wiggle, to bring his mouth closer to her aching clit. His hold was too firm. She was
pinned beneath him quite literally.

His lips finally encircled her clit and his tongue teased the hard little nerve. She

shivered then gasped. Her bottom cheeks were drawn apart and he pressed something
blunt against her anus. Another plug? What was his fixation with her ass? Using her clit
as an ineffective distraction, he drilled into her opening.

“You stopped sucking.” His breath wafted across her wet folds.
“What the hell is that and why are you shoving it up my ass?”
“It’s the toy I was going to use the other night.”
“Before Mal Ton decided your cock would be less intrusive?”
He caressed her clit with his tongue as he moved the toy in and out several times.

“You came harder with my cock up your ass than you’d ever come before. Do you deny
it?”

Before she could answer, he continued the arousing combination of swirling tongue

and slow, steady slides. Tingling heat built with each rotation. The out stroke was even
more exquisite than the invading fullness. God, she was as perverted as they were. It
felt good!

His cock flexed, tapping her chin and turned loose the last of her inhibitions. She

adjusted the angle of her head and sucked him back into her mouth, emulating the
same leisurely pace he was using with the toy.

She felt his cock jerk and he tried to pull out of her mouth. Grasping his hips, she

rose with him and refused to release her prize. He moved the toy faster, holding her clit
between his teeth as his tongue lashed the ultrasensitive point.

They lost control at exactly the same time. He shuddered violently and came with

spurts of hot seed. She swallowed and moaned and writhed, pleasure inundating her
body. Her ass contracted so hard she was certain she’d crush the toy then echoes of each
powerful burst passed along her core and deep into her abdomen.

He rolled off her with a groan, dragging his semihard cock out of her mouth. “I

didn’t mean to come like that.”

“I know.” She grinned, feeling very pleased with herself.

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“You’re a little vixen.”
“I thought I was a kitten.” As the tingling receded, she realized he’d left something

behind. “Did you forget something?”

“Just relax. You’re still too tight. As soon as I catch my breath I’m going to adjust

it.”

“Adjust it how?”
He propped his head on his hand and looked into her eyes. “Your body responds

well to anal stimulation. Not tonight but eventually I would like to be able to…take you
like that.”

She chuckled, her muscles bearing down on the toy. “You’re almost as bad as I am.

We can do all of these erotic things, but we can’t bear to say the words.”

He leaned over and nipped her earlobe. “I want to fuck your tight little ass. If you

let me prepare you properly, you’ll enjoy it as much as I will.”

“All right.” He knelt between her legs and reached for the toy. She felt a warm gush

of something inside her body. “What was that? Did the toy just come?”

He laughed. “Sort of. I released some lubricant. Now relax. I’m going to make it

bigger.”

“I thought that was my job.” She bit her lower lip as the pressure gradually

increased. He pulled back then eased it deeper.

“Do you want me to leave it in while I fuck you? You seemed to enjoy that the first

time.”

“This is a lot bigger than that plug was. I can feel the difference.”
“You’re right. We’ll do this instead.” He pushed two fingers into her pussy and

lowered his mouth to her clit.

“Are you trying to kill me?”
He didn’t reply. His fingers dragged the front wall of her passage and his tongue

circled, avoiding direct contact with her clit. The familiar cycle of arousal began all over
again. She’d never dreamed her body could produce orgasm after orgasm. Or was this a
result of the alien hormone?

He looked up. “What’s wrong? You went all tense on me.”
“I’m just a little overwhelmed. Can we catch our breaths for a minute?”
He kissed each of her hipbones then slowly removed the toy. “We’ll never do

anything you don’t want to do.”

Tears stung her eyes at the tenderness in his expression. She wanted this to be real.

He lay down beside her and she cuddled against his side. “This is all happening so
fast.”

“I wish I could slow things down but I can’t.”
“I know.” She ran her finger through the hair on his chest and listened to the steady

rhythm of his heart.

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Rolling to his side as well, he brought them face-to-face and pillowed her head on

his upper arm. “I upset you before, which wasn’t my intent, but I want to make sure
you understand one thing. All the stritesterone in the world can’t create what we’re
feeling. If there was no attraction, no basic connection, the rest would be moot.”

She touched his face, enjoying the simple intimacy of being held. “I want to believe

that. I’ve wanted to believe a lot of things since I left for a certain hospital dedication.”
She shook her head. “That seems like a lifetime ago.”

He kissed her then, a slow, tender kiss that soothed and aroused at the same time.

She raised her leg to his hip, needing to be closer, wanting more of him. He pushed
between her legs, sliding against but not into her. Heat curled up through her core, an
unmistakable reminder that the night was still young.

His mouth remained on hers while his hand slipped between their bodies, stroking

her breasts and belly, awakening her nipples with patience and care. He stroked her
skin and kissed her mouth, giving her all the time she needed before they moved on.

She reveled in his tenderness and savored each caress. It had been so long since

anyone put her needs above their own. He selflessly gave and gave, and she absorbed
the affection like a sponge.

Her nipples hardened beneath his fingertips. His shaft expanded, spreading her

feminine folds. He was more than ready to take her and still he focused entirely on her.
Her cunt fluttered, releasing a fresh rush of cream. She reached down between them
and guided him to her entrance. He sank into her slowly, allowing her to feel every
millimeter of his hard flesh. Panting into his open mouth, she tightened her inner
muscles and welcomed him home. She was ready, more than ready to be claimed.

He suddenly jerked his mouth away and growled. “I can’t wait.” The harsh whisper

was all the warning she got. He swept her beneath him and stretched her arms above
her head. She pulled her legs up high against his sides as he pounded into her. They’d
waited too long for any more gentleness. Their need demanded intensity. Her inner
muscles rippled around him as she exploded in a sudden orgasm. He bent to her
nipples, prolonging the spasms with firm suction. As soon as her thighs relaxed, he
started moving again.

On and on he went. Why was he still holding off his release? He had more than

earned it. He thrust harder and faster. She gasped and panted as his hips slammed into
hers. Grasping the back of her knees, he bent her legs higher, rolling her ass up off the
blanket. She left her arms above her head as if he still held them, needing to submit.

His fingers dug into her flesh and his shaft stretched her inner muscles, massively

erect. He threw back his head and roared as his seed finally released. The hot spurts
triggered another wave of pleasure and she shuddered right along with him.

“This is…going to…kill me.” He collapse over her then rolled to his side, taking her

with him.

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He kissed her and kissed her until her pulse raced with concern. She knew he came.

She’d felt it happen. So why was he still—frantic? “Are you okay?” she whispered
against his lips when he finally paused to breathe.

“I was so afraid I was going to hurt you.” He clutched her to his chest and released

his pent-up breath. “I didn’t hurt you. Did I?”

“Not even close.” After nipping his bottom lip, she went on in a sexy whisper, “I

guess ass-fucking isn’t my only perversion. I like it rough too.”

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Chapter Nine

A perimeter alarm sounded and Daniel Keller said, “Excuse me, sir.”
Chancellor Howyn offered a curt nod and turned back to the report displayed on

his holopad.

Keller crossed his spacious living room and activated the external security grid.

Two figures were creeping through the trees toward the walkway that led to his front
door. He armed the pulse cannon mounted on the central turret but hesitated. Why
would criminals come to his front door?

“Chancellor, you should probably call your pilot. I’ve got a security breach.”
“No one knows I’m here. Blast them and let’s get back to business.”
Only their “unofficial” business was conducted from Keller’s home. Even then a full

security contingent was a panic signal away at all times. Keller zoomed in on the
figures. The smaller one looked up to say something to her companion and moonlight
revealed her face.

“Unbelievable.”
Hearing Keller’s muttered word, Chancellor Howyn stood and approached the

surveillance station. “What’s going on?”

“It looks like Nehalem Bryson is coming back for… Holy shit, that’s Adoha.” The

Stilox pain in the ass was dressed in the uniform of Bryson’s private guards but Keller
knew that swagger and the arrogant tilt of his head.

“How can you tell? He looks like any other Bryson guard.”
“Trust me that’s Adoha.” They’d nearly reached his front door.
“What are they doing here?”
“I’d guess they’re about to kidnap me. I’m no good to them dead.”
The chancellor chuckled. “Ever calm and collected.” He slapped Keller on the back.

“That’s what I like best about you, son. You remind me of me. What do you want to
do?”

“If you don’t mind, stay out of sight until they snatch me then dispatch the Fury to

tail us. If they can slip inside the Stilox dome that would be helpful, if not, make sure
they stay within range.”

“Why let them take you at all? We can capture Adoha right now.”
“Adoha has his uses. We need the human. The team said they’re ready for her. Why

not let the commander give me an armed escort?”

“I like the way you think.” He slipped a nondescript ring off his middle finger and

handed it to Keller. “Just in case.”

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Keller accepted the microtransmitter with a nod. It was too big for his finger but fit

well on his thumb. Now the Fury could track him from a greater distance.

No sooner had the chancellor reached the top of the sweeping staircase then the

doorbell chimed. Keller paused. No need to seem too eager. After an acceptable delay,
he sent an interactive audio-video signal to the small panel beside the door. “We have
to stop meeting like this. People will start talking.”

Nehalem stood alone on the front porch, a hooded cloak casting her face into

shadow. “Do you have no control over your people at all? That damn vid is
everywhere?”

“So your natural reaction is to sneak away to my private residence—which is also

under surveillance—and bitch about it? You came to me, Nehalem, all four times. Are
you going to pretend you didn’t get exactly what you wanted—each and every time?”

“Open the door. I’m not going to have this conversation over a transmitter.”
“What do we have to talk about? I’ve seen little benefit from our conversations thus

far. I don’t need another mistress.”

She let her cloak gap strategically. Damn, she had fabulous tits. “Let me come in

and we can talk about that too.”

“Did you enjoy putting on a show for your husband? Was that why you really came

to my office? Did he bend you over his desk and fuck you hard and fast? Did he spank
your naughty little bottom?”

Her lips pursed in a practiced pout and Keller had to bite the inside of his mouth to

keep from laughing. The expression would make any man picture those soft red lips
circling his cock. She was a practiced tease. One of the best he’d ever seen.

“Maybe I was hoping to make him just a little jealous.” She licked her lips and

looked up through her eyelashes. “Would you like to spank my bottom? I’ve been very
naughty.”

“Not nearly naughty enough for the sorts of punishments I enjoy, I’d wager.”
Her delicate brows arched in silent challenge. “I think you’d be surprised.”
“I’ll let you in, but you’re not leaving until I’m finished with you and that could

take a very long time.”

“Bryson suggested I go into seclusion until the ‘scandal’ blows itself out.”
“Are you alone? How did you get here?”
“I had my pilot drop me off. She’s been with me for years and I can trust her

implicitly.”

“You were that sure I’d let you in?”
“No. I can always call her back.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s a good place to start. Take off your

audiocom and smash it under your heel.” He quickly scanned the grid as she obeyed.
Where the hell had Adoha gone?

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“Now what?”
“Take off your shoes, stockings and undergarments then lift up your skirt.”
“This would be a lot more fun if you’d let me in first.”
“There will be plenty of time for fun once you prove to me that you’ll obey my

commands. Besides, I want to make sure you’re not concealing any weapons beneath
that shiny skirt.”

She was the only blip on the external grid. How was this possible? He was stalling

as much as anything. He intended to let them capture him, but he wanted some control
over the situation.

Something solid nudged the base of his skull and Keller froze. “Deactivate your

security grid and open the door.”

He reached toward the alarm, knowing it would seem suspicious if he didn’t at

least try. Adoha shoved him to the side and dropped the grid himself.

“How did you get in here?” He didn’t have to force shock into his tone. “Did

Bryson send you? Is this about that little slut? She won’t take no for an answer. I tried to
get rid of her. Didn’t you hear me? I tried.”

Mal Ton slammed the back of his gloved fist into Keller mouth. “Not another

word.” After verifying that all alarm systems had been powered down, he tossed wrist
cuffs to Keller. “Put them on—now.”

The Protarian fool opened his mouth and Mal Ton raised his hand again. With a

frustrated hiss, Keller turned his attention to the cuffs. He fastened one side and placed
the other around the opposite wrist. Mal Ton reached over and tightened both until
they clicked firmly into place. He motioned toward the door with his pulse rifle.

“Move.”
Nehalem stood to one side of the door as they exited. She glared at Keller,

obviously having heard his cowardly slur. “Is this what you meant by naughty? Are we
going to your playground?”

Mal Ton booted his pampered ass. “Shut the hell up.”
They reached the ship in silence. Vi Pone lowered the scramble shield long enough

for them to board. Mal Ton held his rifle on Keller while Nehalem secured him to one of
the four seats. She sat facing their prisoner and strapped in.

Mal Ton pulled off his helmet and took his place beside Nehalem. “Let’s go,” he

said and Vi Pone engaged the vertical thrusters. Resting the rifle across his knees, Mal
Ton kept his hands in firing position.

“What are you doing with these animals?” Keller asked Nehalem.
“That’s an interesting question,” she sneered. “I guess this ‘little slut’ just can’t take

no for an answer. So don’t tell me no. Were you aware that my blood contains a
retrovirus that causes similar symptoms to the crisis mutations but is far less
dangerous?”

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His eyes rounded and his shocked expression was brilliant but Mal Ton felt mild

amusement, not the emotion Keller was trying so hard to convey. “We don’t have time
for your bullshit so I’ll tell you a secret few have lived to pass on. I’m empathic. You
can’t lie to me.”

Keller’s dark green gaze clashed with Mal Ton’s. “We needed to find Fane. She was

the out-of-favor wife of a high-ranking puppet. We knew they would jump at the
chance to ‘recruit’ her.”

“So you made me a mutant?” Nehalem snapped her jaw closed and took a deep

breath. “And all the information I passed to you from Fane went right to the
chancellor’s ear.”

“We allowed you success on a limited basis to perpetuate the misconception that

you were controlling me.”

Mal Ton chuckled. Every word Keller spoke rang absolutely true. “This all sounds a

bit familiar. Why did you let me have Andrea?”

Keller looked at him as if he had sprouted another head. “Both Bryson and the

chancellor are old men. If you couldn’t tame her, no one could.”

“And you injected her with some sort of—stimulant to ensure my success.”
“I didn’t inject her with anything.”
Again his words rang true but the faintest ripple of smug pleasure warned Mal Ton

of a hidden meaning. “Who injected her and what was she injected with?”

“To my knowledge you are the only person who injected her with anything.”
Mal Ton clenched his jaw. The bastard was enjoying this. He twisted each sentence,

dancing around the facts while still speaking the truth. Generally he could gain more
information from open-ended questions, but yes and no answers might serve him better
in this case.

“Was Andrea given something to stimulate her libido?”
“She was given to the best fuck on Stilox. Why would her libido need to be

stimulated artificially?” He looked at Nehalem and smiled. “Did you need stimulants
when Adoha fucked you?”

Mal Ton discharged a pulse strong enough to shove Keeler into unconsciousness.
“Hey!” Vi Pone protested. “It’s a little hard to fly this thing blind.” The energy

dissipated and the control panel flickered back to life.

“He’s not going to tell us anything.” Nehalem sounded discouraged.
“Let him be as cagey as he likes. He’s not accomplishing anything. His blood will

tell us all we need to know.”

* * * * *

“What is really going on with the test subjects?” Roark asked. “You know a whole

hell of a lot more than you’re letting on.”

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Andrea popped a miniature sandwich into her mouth before his statement

registered. Her chewing slowed and she washed down the bite with a gulp of wine.
“What makes you say that?” They hadn’t bothered to dress but she’d wrapped one of
the blankets around her like a toga. He sat across from her with a pillow resting in his
lap, looking disheveled and utterly eatable.

“You want the whole list? What happened to these women when you transcribed

their DNA? You know why the Protarians brought them here, don’t you?”

“I…have a pretty good idea.”
“So enlighten me.”
She took another sip of wine and blew out a shaky breath. How should she begin?

“You’ve not only seen me naked, you’ve analyzed my DNA. How old would you say I
am?”

The utter confusion in his expression was comical. “Are we still talking about the

same thing?”

“Yes.”
“All right. Many females are sensitive about such things but I would place you in

your early thirties.”

“I started working at Medicort when I was twenty-two and I’ve been with the

company for the past thirty-one years.”

“You’re fifty-three, approximately halfway through the human lifespan?”

Skepticism took over his confusion as she knew it would.

“My teenage years were the worst of my life. I lost my mother and found out I

would never have children of my own within the span of a few months. I wasn’t sure I
would recover from the double blow to my psyche so I dedicated my life to the study of
genetic reconstruction. I couldn’t bring my mother back but I was damn sure not giving
up my future without a fight.”

“You perfected RENA by testing it on yourself?”
“RENA was far from perfect when I used it to regenerate my reproductive system,

but it gave me hope and determination to keep trying. By the time I had stabilized the
compound and perfected the procedure, I was even able to undo the residual damage
I’d done to my own coding.”

“Your DNA has been transcribed twice?”
“Yes. The same is true of every woman on that list.”
“What does this have to do with your age?”
“I used RENA for the second time when I was thirty-one and my telomere has

remained exactly the same length since that day.”

“You haven’t aged a day in twenty-two years?”
“It was an unintentional side effect and once I realized how it had happened I

allowed no repeat procedures.”

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“So how many humans are running around back on Earth with completely stable

telomeres?”

“I would have to see a list of those who didn’t survive the crash, but I suspect they

were all on that ship. My primary focus in the early days was female infertility. That’s
why they’re all women.”

“How would the Protarians have found out about this?”
“I have no idea. How did they turn me into a sex-crazed lunatic? The point is, if

they somehow combine the benefits of your triploid physiology with a stable telomere
they might well create an immortal being.”

“We have to find those test subjects.”
“My sentiments exactly.”

* * * * *

Andrea looked up from the scanner as Mal Ton walked into the lab.
“I have a present for you,” he said with that knee-melting smile.
She much preferred Roark. Last night had solidified her choice, but that didn’t

mean she couldn’t appreciate the unmitigated sexuality that was Mal Ton. “I’m not sure
I want a present from you.”

“You’ll want this one.” He crooked his finger.
“I’ll be right back. I hope,” she told Roark with a playful wink.
“Grab an extractor,” Mal Ton said, and motioned toward the shelves behind her.
That gained Roark’s attention. “What’s going on?”
“Can she work an extractor?”
“I’m sure she can but—”
“He’s chained to the fucking wall. Give it a rest.” Mal Ton grabbed an extractor out

of the wire bin and hurried her out the doorway. “I’ll have her home by midnight,
Daddy!” The door slid shut before Roark could reply.

“You’re rather feisty.” She hurried her steps to match his long-legged stride.
“Protarians do that to me.” He handed her the extractor and she tucked it into the

pocket of her lab coat. “If this prick doesn’t give me some straight answers soon, you
won’t need the extractor. All you’ll have to do is hold a vial under his nose.”

They turned a corner and then another. Andrea had never been in this part of the

complex. It looked older and smelled faintly of mildew. “Who are we talking about?”

Mal Ton’s boot heels rang against the cracked floor tiles. “Daniel Keller, personal

lap dog of Chancellor Howyn.”

“This is the man Nehalem suggested?”
“Suggested and delivered with relatively little effort. Keller has his fingers in every

pie on Protaria. He’s guaranteed to have the finest DNA money can buy.”

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“And the chancellor has good reason to protect him from the lentavirus?”
“Keller is Howyn’s shadow.”
They paused in front of a door and Mal Ton scanned it open. Andrea looked at the

young man chained to the wall, as Mal Ton had promised, and found him almost
pretty. Sleek dark hair framed his symmetrical features. High slashing cheekbones, a
slim nose and full-lipped mouth, all of the requirements of masculine beauty were
present. She looked into his green eyes and shuddered. His face might be pleasant but
the corruption in his eyes sent a chill straight through her bones.

“Nehalem reminded me that Keller’s family owns one of the largest research

laboratories on Protaria. I’m betting he can not only tell you exactly what they did to
you and how to disable it, but I’d wager my last credit he turned a profit on the deal.”

“Really?” Now she understood why Mal Ton insisted on her accompanying him.

He wanted Keller to look into the eyes of his victim before the pain ensued. She moved
father into the room. “Mal Ton will enjoy interrogating you. I’m sure I don’t have to
convince you of that. But I’ll warn you, he has an uncanny ability to know when
someone is lying.”

“I was feeling particularly generous,” Mal Ton told her. “He knows I’m empathic.”
“I see.” She walked right up to Keller, her hand clutching the extractor inside her

pocket. This was the bastard responsible for her present condition. He’d stripped away
her emotional defenses and made her utterly susceptible to seduction. She focused on
Keller’s hostile eyes, refusing to think about how far her feelings had progressed. Her
affection for Roark was irrelevant to the original setup. “Roark already figured out that
it’s an endocrine nanite so tell me how to deactivate the damn thing.”

“I’d rather show you.”
She didn’t comprehend the threat until his eyes erupted with amber light. His

wrists passed right through the alloy cuffs and he wrapped her in his arms. She
screamed and Mal Ton launched himself across the room. She felt icy currents of air
passing through her body and then Mal Ton crashed to the floor on the other side of
them. He shouted some sort of code and an alarm shrilled.

Keller’s arms tightened and searing pain burned into her flesh. She screamed again

but the sound was lost in the vibrating molecules gathering all around them. She
couldn’t really see what was happening, just feel the oppressive weight. The pressure
built and built until her lungs refused to move and colors danced before her eyes. Light
erupted with the same intensity as the heat and they were propelled upward, passing
through matter as easily as rain rode the wind.

It might have been days or hours, she hung suspended between substance and

energy. There was no sight here, no sound, only the absolute absence of each. The
pressure eased and she gasped in a long breath. Then pain exploded across every nerve
ending she possessed.

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Sight returned out of the darkness but pain remained, one agonizing wave crashing

upon the other. She blinked and blinked—and stared into the cold green eyes of the
enemy.

“Welcome to the Fury, Ms. Raynier,” Keller said with a smug smile. “I doubt you’ll

enjoy your stay.”

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Chapter Ten

“Keller is a mutant?” Roark raked both hands through his hair, forcing his brain to

focus on one thought, any thought. They had Andrea and he wasn’t even sure who they
were. Had Keller taken her to the Mutant Underground or the chancellor? “How could
we not know he was a mutant?”

“How could he not know I can walk through walls?” Mal Ton countered. “Most

mutants hide their abilities for as long as possible. It’s like admitting you have cancer.
No one eagerly embraces their imminent death.”

“He teleported off the planet! That’s a pretty unusual ability.”
“Is it? I think you’d have trouble sleeping if you knew what most mutants can do.”

Mal Ton lowered his voice as he went on. “Nehalem got the list of names from Keller. If
Keller was working for Fane, Fane would have known. Let’s assume Keller works for
Max or hasn’t aligned himself with the other mutants. He’s got the ear of the most
powerful man on Protaria. Maybe he’s biding his time, waiting for the perfect
opportunity to take over the Mutant Underground.”

“Then he’ll take Andrea to the chancellor,” Roark mused. The logic was sound.
“Godsdamn it, how could we not know he was a mutant?”
Roark wasn’t sure if Mal Ton had meant the wry outburst to be amusing, but it

made him smile and allowed him to unclench his fists. “We’re all harboring secrets, it
seems. Andrea most of all.”

“What’s wrong with Andrea, other than her not being here?”
“I’ll spare you the technical explanation but she basically doesn’t age.”
“She’s…immortal?”
“No. She can be killed by any number of things. She just doesn’t age.”
“That’s why they want her. That’s what they’ve wanted all along.” Mal Ton rubbed

his temples for a long time, refusing to open his eyes.

The uncharacteristic stillness had Roark’s heart pounding again. “What? What are

you not telling me?”

“The chancellor has been moving us around like marionettes. Nehalem wasn’t

using Keller, he was using her. It was the chancellor who made sure I found out about
Andrea. And of course he wanted me to think it was my idea.”

“Why would the chancellor want us to have Andrea if they can already cure the

mutation?”

“They still need her to re-create the series of events that resulted in her condition,

which means she has to obey.”

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Roark felt bile burn the back of his throat. “And we taught her how to revel in

submission.” Even last night neither of them was completely satisfied until he
dominated her. “If Keller touches her, I’ll kill him.”

“We’ll take turns killing him.”
“They’ve thrown down the gauntlet,” Roark said. “We have no choice. We have to

contact Fane.”

* * * * *

Andrea couldn’t decide if she was relieved or infuriated by Keller’s neglect. After

she revived enough to sit upright, he strapped her into a seat and left her alone in the
passenger cabin. She felt shaky and thirsty and there was no one to hear her complaints.
Where was he taking her? How the hell had he zapped her from the surface of the
planet to a spaceship? Telepathy and empathy were scientifically proven phenomenon,
but teleportation? She’d heard stories, seen countless entertainment vids, but this was
unbelievable.

Her head was pounding and she needed to pee! How long would it take to

reach…wherever they were going? Protaria most likely, but beyond that she didn’t
have enough information to hazard a guess.

The hatch through which Keller exited slid open and Andrea looked up expecting

him to return. Nehalem walked through the opening instead and crossed the small
cabin.

Andrea stared at her for a long moment then asked, “Didn’t Mal Ton leave you

back on Protaria?”

“He thought he did.” Secret knowledge made her brown eyes sparkle. “I’m not

quite as incompetent as he thinks I am.”

“You got him to kidnap Keller so Keller could kidnap me.” Her head protested the

convoluted thought with a mighty throb. “Why didn’t you just kidnap me?”

“Because I can’t teleport.” She smiled and sank into the chair across from Andrea,

obviously needing some twisted form of affirmation. “Keller and I recently realized
we’re working toward the same goal. Bryson never appreciated the power of seduction
but Chancellor Howyn understood my true value.”

“So you allowed him to play with your genetic code?”
“It wasn’t necessary. If you keep fucking Mal Ton you’ll find mutant antigens in

your blood and you’ll pick up temporary echoes of his abilities. That’s what I was
trying to accomplish when I seduced Mal Ton. But he was too distracted by the
information Chancellor Howyn had planted. I didn’t absorb enough of his—essence to
get an accurate reading.”

“You fuck mutants so you can take on their abilities?” Andrea tried not to reveal

her disgust. Nehalem was in the mood to brag, so why not let her? Unfortunately for

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Andrea, Nehalem’s talkativeness likely stemmed from her belief that Andrea wouldn’t
survive to spread the tale.

“That’s an entertaining side effect, but no. I’m basic recon. I seduce each mutant to

find out the true extent of their powers. You wouldn’t believe the abilities this mutation
has unleashed.”

Had she seduced Fane? Basic recon was only valuable when it led to action. “Does

the chancellor round up the mutants with especially interesting abilities?”

Nehalem just smiled. Her effusiveness had come to an end.
If the chancellor had found a way to stabilize the degeneration without robbing the

mutants of their powers… Andrea shivered. This wasn’t a struggle for survival. The
biological weapon had failed so the chancellor was searching for a new strategy.

After a long pause, Andrea asked, “Where are you taking me?”
“To the chancellor of course.”
“Is there a lavatory on this ship?”
“I can’t release you.”
“I guzzle coffee whenever I work. I’m not trying to trick you. I really need to pee.”
Without a word, Nehalem stood and returned to the front section of the ship. Was

she asking Keller or punishing Andrea for her weakness? Andrea closed her eyes and
rested her head against the back of the seat. Maybe it wasn’t much farther…

Nehalem returned a few minutes later with Keller in tow. He stood in front of her,

his features void of expression. “Prisoners are often apprehended in varying stages of
disarray. If you do anything other than relieving your bladder, I will shred your
clothing and parade you through the station with your body on display. Do you
understand me?”

“I just need to pee.” She’d been wondering if she could overpower Nehalem but

attempting to escape from a spaceship in flight was rather pointless. He released her
and escorted her to the lavatory. She used the toilet and quickly righted her clothing,
glancing around for anything that might be helpful or potentially harmful. Keller
slammed the door open and she shoved her hands under the antiseptic dispenser. “This
one’s occupied,” she said sarcastically as she rubbed the light blue film into her skin.

He placed his forearm against the threshold and leaned in close, his mouth just

above her ear. “You’ve got a really smart mouth. I can’t wait until you refuse my first
order so I can put it to better use.”

A smart-ass remark sprang readily to mind but she wisely ignored the provocation.

“Thank you for your civility. May I return to my seat?”

He followed her back to the row of seats and refastened her restraints. Nehalem

was nowhere in sight. “Have you learned to enjoy being bound? Did they break you to
the whip? I’m sure they fucked you together so I’ll have to find something more
creative. Besides, I only have one dick. Let me think about it.” Without so much as
tweaking her nipple, he left her alone again.

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It was a bluff, she decided with absolute certainty. He either lacked the skill to truly

master her or he didn’t have permission to try. She comforted herself with the
conclusion but time stretched on, eroding her calm and renewing her fear. By the time
they set down on the rooftop landing pad in the heart of a vast metropolis, Andrea was
no longer sure what to believe.

Keller dragged her arms behind her back and refastened the restraints. Nehalem

stayed well back and watched in stoic silence. Sunlight blinded Andrea as she
maneuvered awkwardly down the steep stairs of the external hatch. Keller was in front
of her, Nehalem behind. A mild breeze carried an intriguing combination of scents,
some familiar like smoke and ginger, others alien. A strand of her unbound hair blew
across her face, tickling her cheek. She looked around at the elegant skyline, saddened
by the contrast to the twisted devastation of Stilox.

“The better planet survived,” Keller said proudly.
“But the better people died,” she answered without thinking. He shoved her

sideways so hard she went down hard on her hip. It hadn’t really been a blow. He
could easily claim she tripped. Again she wondered about his true level of authority.
Something or someone was holding him back.

“Remember what I said about that smart mouth?”
“No, but I remember something about being marched naked through a spaceport.”

She kicked out at him.

“Disappointed?”
She struggled back to her feet and cursed her wayward tongue. He could be all

bluff and bluster, but she better leave it alone until she had a better assessment of the
situation. Keller grabbed her bound wrists and propelled her toward what appeared to
be a brick wall. A scanner beam swept them from head to toe then a doorway appeared.

“Is he expecting us?” Nehalem asked, a note of excitement in her tone.
“He’s expecting me. You can wait in my quarters.”
Nehalem snorted. “I don’t think so.”
He glared at Nehalem but didn’t argue. Andrea followed the exchange, noting each

nuance and dynamic. Keller interacted with “him” a lot more than Nehalem. Keller’s
voice had lacked the same sense of awe.

They descended a stairwell and walked down a short corridor. There was no visible

evidence of surveillance. She didn’t have a weapon or even a plan so it didn’t really
matter. Jerk free from Keller’s hands and jump off the roof didn’t have a very positive
outcome.

The second hallway was much like the first, a bit wider and the off-white walls

were broken by an occasional digital image. A young guard snapped to attention as
they approached. He stared straight ahead and waited to be addressed.

“Is he alone?” Keller asked.
“Yes, sir. He’s expecting you.”

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Keller shot Nehalem a meaningful look. You’re only here because I’m allowing it. The

message was written clearly in his eyes.

The guard opened the door and they filed into a moderate-sized room. Andrea had

expected something more ostentatious, maybe gilt fixtures and a dais with a throne.
Instead, a gray-haired man sat behind a large wooden desk, a pair of glasses perched on
his nose. Glasses? Most visual impairments were correctible on Earth. Weren’t the
Protarians more highly advanced?

He took off the spectacles and folded them neatly on his desktop. “Is this our

wayward human?”

“Yes, sir.” Keller swept his hand toward her. “May I present Andrea Raynier.”
It was technically Doctor Raynier. She had a PhD, but she decided not to annoy the

chancellor with the first words out of her mouth.

“Is she a physical danger to us?” the chancellor asked, making a bland gesture

toward her restrained arms.

“A definite flight risk, sir.”
“I’ll take my chances. She’d never escape without help and the only people she

knows are back on Stilox if I’m not mistaken.”

With obvious reluctance, Keller unfastened the cuffs. Andrea rubbed her wrists and

rolled her shoulders. Thank god, he hadn’t bound her arms behind her back for the
entire trip.

“I’m Chancellor Martian Howyn. Keller is a bit hotheaded, but he is acting on my

behalf.”

“I was brought to this solar system against my will. Are you taking responsibility

for that as well?”

“Of course not.” He had the audacity to smirk. “The Stilox rabble dragged you

away from your homeworld. We felt obligated to mount a rescue.”

“You have my gratitude.” Despite the false civility, menace pulsed all around her.

The tactics might be different but she was very much a prisoner. “Where can I go to
make arrangements for my return to Earth?”

“Don’t be impertinent. You know good and well why you’re here.”
“Do I? Please explain it to me from your perspective so there are no

misunderstandings.”

“You have a smart mouth.”
She laughed. She couldn’t help it. Did they rehearse these insults?
The Stilox would mount a rescue she had no doubt. Still, she had to stay alive long

enough to thank them. She wasn’t a soldier, had no training in weapons or hand-to-
hand combat. Her only weapon was her mind.

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She took a deep breath and slipped her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. “I’m

sorry.” She did her best to make it sound sincere. “I don’t mean to be disrespectful but
I’m rather tired of being treated like a criminal.”

Howyn shoved back his chair and came out from behind his desk. Never a good

sign. “Your options are quite simple. Teach my research team how to reproduce the
results of your genetic ‘accident’ or we will freeze your body and dissect you slice by
slice until we figure it out for ourselves.”

Now he knew how to make a threat. “Once others know my secret, I’m dispensable.

I have always worked alone for just that reason.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, the chancellor looked her over, his gaze assessing

not lecherous—for a change. “An uneasy alliance then?”

“I don’t see that I have a viable option. Why don’t you start by telling me how I

ended up with an endocrine nanite and how the hell I turn it off?”

“Keller was supposed to explain this to you.” He glanced at his head of security

with obvious displeasure. “The director of Medicort was told it would reinforce your
immune system and protect you against microorganisms you might not have
encountered before. That’s always a risk when visiting an alien world.”

“Visiting?”
He ignored her and went on. “Even then he was hesitant but your lab assistant

slipped it into a cup of coffee two days before the gala. It’s a non-replicating nanite. As
soon as it runs out of energy, which should be in a matter of days, it will be absorbed by
your body.”

“The effect is temporary?” She felt a massive weight lift off her shoulders. This

endless ache wasn’t endless after all.

“We can always re-administer it, if the need arises.” The chancellor let the threat

sink in for a moment. “There are distinct advantages to using non-replicating nanites. It
gives us the ability to make adjustments and allows us far more control over the
outcome.”

She nodded, scrambling for a stall tactic or a demand that would make her easier to

find. One thing was certain. She would do nothing to help this man. From her
government’s betrayal, to her spiked libido, the Protarians were behind it all.

Don’t react to my voice. No one else can hear me.
Mal Ton! Thank god. She pressed her lips together and consciously kept her

expression from reflecting her relief.

If you can hear me, ask for a glass of water.
“May I have something to drink?”
“Of course. Nehalem, find Ms. Raynier a suitable beverage.” With a stiff nod, the

other woman left the room. Howyn rubbed the bridge of his nose. “My research team is
anxious to move forward but we have a slight complication.”

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“RENA is in the lab on Stilox.” And without her stabilizing compound, she was just

another scientist.

Don’t be afraid. You’re not alone.
Howyn nodded. “Action is being taken to rectify this complication but—”
The door burst open and four black-garbed soldiers barged into the room. Andrea

automatically dropped to her knees and covered her head with her hands.

“So much as twitch and you’re dead,” one of the soldiers snapped.
Andrea had no idea who the threat was meant for and she didn’t raise her head to

find out. Her heart beat frantically as she waited for the other shoe to drop. Was this
what Mal Ton had meant or was she being kidnapped yet again?

Gentle fingers curled around upper arm and the same voice asked, “Are you all

right, ma’am?”

Unable to force a verbal response past her dry throat, she managed a shaky nod. He

pulled with progressively more pressure until she looked up. Amber eyes glowed all
around her, the only feature visible behind their black masks. The mutant cavalry? Two
had conventional weapons but one stood on either side of Keller encasing him in an
energy field.

“We have to move,” the leader said. He helped her to her feet and they started for

the door. One of his men fell in behind her while the other two poured energy into
Keller’s containment field. They made it to the door before she remembered the
extractor.

“Wait! I have to do this before we leave.”
“There’s no time,” the leader insisted.
“There’s no point in any of this, if I don’t take time.” She rushed back to the

chancellor, her escorts at her side. “Hold out your arm.”

“What is that?” he demanded.
“Your peace offering. Hold out your arm or they’ll shoot out your knees.” Their

weapons immediately lowered to the appropriate target.

“What’s in the injector?” he tried again.
“This is not a negotiation.”
One of the soldiers grabbed Howyn’s arm and extended it for him. The other

centered his rifle on the chancellor’s face. Andrea pushed up his sleeve and pressed the
extractor to the bend of his elbow. He flinched as the device withdrew its sample then
put it back in her pocket.

She turned to the mutant leader with a tentative smile. “Now get me out of here.”
Howyn’s guard lay unconscious in the corridor. At least Andrea hoped he was

unconscious. The mutants rushed her past him and into a barren stairwell obviously
meant for utility personnel. She didn’t ask questions or hesitate. Mal Ton had to have
sent them. This couldn’t be a coincidence.

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She lost count of the levels they descended. Three times guards were pounding on

the access doors as they hustled past. Her head was spinning and she panted hard by
the time they reached the bottom. The leader motioned to the right with his rifle. Like
the stairwell, this corridor was utilitarian and close with exposed pipes and various
conduits.

They turned a corner and a pulse blast sailed over their heads.
“Get down!” The leader shoved her behind him as he returned fire. The mutant

beside him fell but the leader didn’t stop. Andrea instinctively reached for the fallen
man, but the leader grabbed her arm and dragged her back the way they’d come. They
had no choice, but it didn’t ease the tension gripping her gut or slow her thundering
heart. A man had just died because of her.

Sprinting now, the leader half led, half dragged her along behind him. Footfalls

echoed, the rhythm different from their frantic strides. He stopped suddenly and
reached up behind a wire housing. A narrow section of the wall slid inward then to the
side. Andrea ducked into the dank passageway and blinked as her eyes adjusted to the
dark. The door slid closed behind them and her heart gave a sickening lurch. Inky
blackness surrounded them.

“Come on.” Her escort intensified the glowing of his eyes. Still, she could barely see

beyond the end of his rifle.

He led her deeper into the darkness. Her apprehension grew with each uneven

step. She covered her nose with one hand unsure if the cloying stench of decay was real
or a product of her fear-riddled imagination. The air grew colder and her feet slid across
unseen slime.

A second pair of amber eyes erupted in the distance. Friend or foe? She still wasn’t

sure if her rescuer had rescued her or…

“Thank you, Sean. Please tell Fane I’m in his debt.”
Mal Ton! She twisted free of Sean’s grasp and flung herself against Mal Ton. His

arms closed around her and he chuckled.

“She better be worth it, Commander.” The other man sneered. “I just lost two men.”
“Two?” She turned around, but her rescuer had disappeared into the dark.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine and I got a sample of the chancellor’s blood.”
“We’re not in the clear yet. Wrap your arms around me.” She faced him again and

pressed against his rock-hard body. His arms pulled her closer still. “Take a deep breath
and don’t let go.”

She inhaled and he backed up, pulling her with him. Pressure intensified all around

them as if—they were passing through a wall! She clutched him and closed her eyes
until the pressure dissipated. Cool air wafted across her face and she gasped in a breath.

“You can relax now.”

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The amusement in his tone soothed her more than his words. She opened her eyes

and gasped again. They were outside the complex, surrounded by leafy trees and
immaculate landscaping. A cloud-dotted sky peeked through the tree cover and she
inhaled deeply of the cool, fresh air.

“Let’s go. The scramble shield makes my ship hard to detect, not impossible.”
He took her hand and they ran toward a small grassy clearing. An alarm echoed in

the distance, a repeating sequence of beeps. Pulses arced toward them, falling well short
of their mark.

“Go!” Mal Ton shouted, propelling her into the clearing.
As they left the relative safety of the trees, she questioned his sanity. Then a set of

stairs unfolded directly in front of her. She flew up the stairs and into Roark’s waiting
arms. Her breath escaped in a relieved shudder.

Glancing over her shoulder, she waited for Mal Ton to follow but the hatch began

to close. “You can’t just leave him here!” Panic tore through her and she jerked out of
Roark’s arms.

He caught her wrist before she could activate the hatch release and tugged her

toward the nearest viewport. “We’re not deserting him. He has work to do here.”

She looked out the port and spotted Mal Ton darting back into the trees. His body

flexed, legs extended then his image blurred. For an instant he remained out of phase,
unfocused and transparent, then energy rippled along the length of his body and he
transformed.

Pressing her hands over her pounding heart, she blinked and blinked again. The

creature leapt into one of the trees with a powerful burst of strength. His long, lean
body was sleek and powerful, his head distinctly feline.

“He’s a shape-shifter,” she whispered the word, trying to accept what she had just

seen.

“Launch, Vi Pone,” Roark ordered. “Mal Ton will distract them as long as he can

but we need to get out of here.” They were still fastening their safety restraints when Vi
Pone obeyed. The ship lifted into the air then shuddered with a burst of acceleration.

Andrea rested her head against the back of her seat and closed her eyes. “Is this

ever going to end? How will Mal Ton get off the planet? We have his ship.”

“Mal Ton can take care of himself.” Roark didn’t sound dismissive. He was just

stating fact. “Mal Ton spends nearly as much time on Protaria as he does on Stilox.”

“Can he take on any shape he wants?” She opened her eyes and looked at Roark,

her pulse gradually returning to normal. “Is there a name for what he just turned into?”

“Mal Ton.” Roark smiled. “He’s able to sample DNA and temporarily incorporate it

into his genetic code. It’s a fascinating ability. He can take on the outward appearance
of other people, but looking like someone doesn’t mean you become them.”

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She nodded in stunned disbelief. If she hadn’t just seen it for herself, she never

would have believed Roark. “Are we going back for him or was this more than a
diversion?”

“Fane made a deal with Mal Ton. If we can’t arrest the mutation before it claims

Fane’s life, Mal Ton will lead the Underground.”

“How does Mal Ton feel about that arrangement?”
“He’s wanted to create an alliance with the Underground since Fane came to

power, but I don’t think this is exactly what Mal Ton had in mind.”

“Then we’ll have to save Fane.” She pulled the extractor from her pocket and

cupped it loosely in her fingers. “Compliments of Chancellor Howyn.”

“That’s Howyn’s blood?” She grinned. “How the hell did you pull that off in the

middle of your rescue?”

“Priorities. I knew we wouldn’t get another chance and I wasn’t about to squander

the opportunity.”

“You are amazing.” He gave her other hand a firm squeeze and a twinkle appeared

in his eyes. “Does this mean you’re throwing in with the savage Stilox?”

Her smile broadened then faded as determination settled over her expression. “I’ll

work my ass off to replicate the Protarians’ treatment but you have to promise me we’ll
find the other humans.”

“That’s the main reason Mal Ton stayed behind. Fane is in bad shape and his

people have come up empty. We all know how important it is to keep those women
away from the Protarians so Mal Ton is going to take over the hunt.”

“Good. A couple of the women have military experience but most of them are…”
He squeezed her fingers again. “Mal Ton will find them. We need to concentrate on

replicating the cure.”

“Replicate.” The word sent a jolt of realization through her mind. “The chancellor

told me the endocrine nanites they gave me weren’t replicating nanites. Do Mal Ton’s
nanoimmunites replicate?”

“You’re talking about nanites that can build other nanites?” She nodded. “No, that’s

not how his work. They’re produced in his body, but each has an internal power store.”

“And each stops working as soon as the energy is exhausted?”
“Yes. Why the sudden interest in nanites?”
“That’s why the inhibitor failed. It was based on non-replicating nanites. As soon as

the nanites run out of power, the mutations resume.” She put the extractor back into her
pocket. “How long will it take to reach Stilox? I can’t wait to analyze this. They had to
use something other than nanite technology to permanently arrest the mutations. My
mind is buzzing with the possibilities.”

“We’ve moved everything to the new complex. I think you’ll be pleased with the

upgrades,” he said with a secretive smile.

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“What new complex?”
“Keller’s little surprise is forcing us to streamline our schedule, but we’ve been

concerned about security for some time.”

“The chancellor sent people to raid our lab.”
“As soon as Keller teleported away with you, we knew it was only a matter of time

before the Protarians came for RENA. Everything has already been moved.”

“What a day.” She shook her head. “I’m really starting to dislike spaceships.”
After a suspiciously long silence, Roark grumbled. “Mal Ton managed to find a

way to make you enjoy the trip.”

Amused by his lingering jealousy, she chuckled. “Yeah, he drugged me so he didn’t

have to bother with me.”

He lowered his voice so Vi Pone couldn’t hear his question. “Do you still want both

of us?”

“There will always be a part of me that is fascinated by Mal Ton, but what I feel for

you is so much deeper. You never need to worry about Mal Ton.” His entire body
seemed to relax and she smiled. “Will I have private quarters at the new complex?”

He looked into her eyes, clearly confused by the question. “Do you want your own

quarters?”

“Hell no.” She laughed as joy bubbled up within her. “I want you at my disposal

whenever I feel the need. All contracts are verbal on Stilox, you know. I want to hear
you say it.”

“Say what?”
“That you’ll do whatever it takes to keep me satisfied.”
His fingers curved around her chin and he turned her face toward him. Looking

deep into her eyes, he said, “I will do whatever it takes to keep you satisfied. I’ll protect
you and appreciate you and withhold nothing of myself from you.”

“That’s quite a contract.” She licked her lips, unable to look away. “I’ll do

everything in my power to keep you satisfied and withhold nothing of myself from
you.”

He grinned and nipped her lower lip. “You won’t protect me?”
“I’m pretty worthless in a fight. I do my best work in the lab.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”

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Epilogue

Roark rushed into the spacious lab in the new complex, his heart thundering in his

chest. “It works! I just received word from the Underground. Fane is responding with
amazing speed.”

Andrea threw her arms around him and laughed as he spun her in a tight circle. “I

knew we could do it.”

The Protarians had stayed with what they knew best, engineering a second

lentavirus to wipe out the first. Roark and Andrea had meticulously extracted the virus
from the chancellor’s blood and ensured that it did nothing other than attack the
original microorganism.

The Stilox volunteers responded almost immediately so they had sent the first

shipment to the Mutant Underground. Roark was nearly breathless with hope. It had
been years since he’d felt so alive!

Nehalem had been arrested for trading state secrets to the enemy. Her protests that

the chancellor himself had arranged the exchange hadn’t convinced anyone of her
innocence. Keller had disappeared. Roark suspected Keller had grown too ambitious
and the chancellor had silenced him, but it was likely they would never know for sure.

If they had received confirmation that Mal Ton had located the human females, the

moment would have been perfect. Roark didn’t let the tiny lack taint their triumph
however. He hugged Andrea to his chest and covered her mouth with his.

They had been inseparable since returning to Stilox. The absorption of the

endocrine nanites hadn’t made her any less passionate. She wrapped her arms around
his neck and her legs around his waist, returning his kiss with equal fervor.

He set her on the long counter in between the molecular scanner and the computer

terminal. She tasted rich and sweet, evocative—coffee with cinnamon cream. He smiled
against her parted lips. She tasted like coffee when they worked and him when they
played. Her fascination with oral sex had his complete support. He enjoyed licking her
pussy every bit as much as she craved his cock in her mouth.

With predictable determination, she slipped off the counter and pushed him back

so she could kneel in front of him. Her fingers parted his lab coat and unfastened his
pants, freeing his erection in record time. He stared into her eyes as she stroked him
with her hands, her lips rosy from their feverish kisses.

“My hormone levels have returned to normal, so why do I still want you all the

time?” She circled the tip of his cock with her tongue, her gaze luminous with desire
and affection.

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“I’m addictive.” He pushed into her mouth then pulled all the way out. “But only to

you.”

“More.” She pulled his hips toward her and sucked him back into her mouth.
Gods, she was good at this. Her lips created a firm circle while her tongue flicked

and swirled. He moved his legs farther apart as one of her hands cupped his balls. She
rolled him carefully between her fingers and her thumb then pulled with gradual
pressure until he groaned. All the while her mouth moved up and down his shaft and
her tongue… How he loved her tongue!

With a muffled cry, he pulled out of her warm, willing mouth. She muttered a

protest as he dragged her to her feet and went to work on her pants. “We have to get
the lentavirus into full production. This is just a quick celebration.”

“I hate quickies.” She produced a playful pout but her gaze smoldered with

eagerness. “They just make me hungry for more.”

He left her pants on the floor and lifted her back to the counter, spreading her legs

wide. Her folds were deeply flushed and creamy. He traced her slit, thrilled by her
responsiveness. “Have you ever come while you were just sucking me?”

She bit her lower lip to hide her smile. “I’ll never tell.”
Watching her eyes go hazy, he pushed two fingers into her hot core. So incredibly

soft. She gripped him firmly and rested her head against the wall. He rubbed his thumb
over her clit and she shivered. He savored each needy sound and her breathless
murmurs. When had she become so precious to him? His heart leapt at the thought.

With his fingers deep inside her, he bent between her thighs. Her musk filled his

nose and accelerated his arousal. She was a feast for the senses—beautiful, soft and
delicious. His tongue circled her clit then stroked over her folds. He didn’t move his
fingers, knowing the slight fullness drove her crazy.

“Please, Roark. You wouldn’t come for me. I want you inside me.”
He ignored her plea and focused on her clit, teasing the puffy hood without

disturbing the ultrasensitive stem. Her inner muscles clenched rhythmically as she
hovered on the brink of release. He backed off and she whimpered.

Then the elemental need of a Stilox male surged through their playfulness. His. She

was his. And he was hers! He pulled his fingers back and thrust deep then withdrew
completely. She tossed her hips and kicked out at him, wanting to be subdued. He lifted
one of her legs to his shoulder and kept the other bent along the countertop. She braced
herself on one elbow, nearly reclining now.

Holding her open from above, he aroused her with ruthless care. He thrust his

tongue into her cunt, waiting for her moan, then sucked on her delicate folds. She
whimpered and sighed as her cream filled his mouth and trickled into the crease of her
ass.

He followed the slick trail with his tongue and then his middle finger, unable to

resist the temptation. Carefully closing his lips around her clit, he sucked as he worked

124

Seducer

his finger past her tightly puckered hole. She cried out and lifted, her body clenching
and shuddering as the combination pushed her over the edge.

“That is so unfair,” she panted.
He chuckled and straightened as he pulled her toward the edge of the counter. “I

never claimed to play fair, my love.” Shifting her to a more natural angle, he pushed her
legs up and back. He rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit, sending heated shivers
through them both. Cream dripped from her cunt, drawing his focus to his final
destination. With his hands grasping the back of her knees, he entered her slowly. His
gaze locked with hers as their bodies joined. “I just claimed to do whatever it took to
keep you satisfied.” When his balls nestled against her ass, he paused and pressed
forward so he could kiss her. The angle drove him even deeper and immobilized her
against the wall. “I never want this to end,” he whispered against her parted lips.

He started moving then with long, slow strokes. His lips hovered over hers,

promising more kisses. I never want this to end. He’d meant this bout of lovemaking, or
at least he thought he had. But the depth of emotion ringing in his tone communicated
so much more.

She tangled her fingers in his hair and dragged his mouth back to hers. Her tongue

stroked over and curled around his, taking him as he took her. Hunger flared and he
thrust faster. She matched the firm drive of his cock with the insistent thrust of her
tongue.

They moved together, climbing closer to the summit. He slid his hands down her

thighs and cupped her bottom, letting her legs drape over his arms. Tension gripped his
balls, a blissful agony. He tore his mouth from hers and lifted her hips as he thrust to
the hilt. Pleasure spun through him, shot along his cock and burst with blinding
intensity. Arching his back and barely stifling his shout, he came in hard, shuddering
waves.

Her legs flexed against his arms and her core milked him as she joined him in

trembling release. On and on the spasms went until they were both limp and
breathless—and utterly satisfied. He eased his hold with a contented smile and she
wrapped her legs around his waist.

“I never want this to end either,” she whispered, love shining in her eyes.

125

About the Author

Aubrey Ross writes an eclectic assortment of erotic fiction. From power struggles

between futuristic clans to adventurous mystic guardians, her stories are filled with
passion and imagination. Some of her recent awards include an EPPIE finalist, two
Passionate Plume finalists, and a CAPA nomination from the Romance Studio.

With a pampered cat curled on the corner of her desk, Aubrey dreams up

fascinating words and larger than life adventures—and wouldn't have it any other way!

Aubrey welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email

address on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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Also by Aubrey Ross

Soul Kisses
Velvet Deception

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publisher Ellora’s Cave. Whether you prefer e-books or paperbacks, be sure to visit EC
on the web at www.ellorascave.com for an erotic reading experience that will leave you
breathless.

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