The Rebel and the Rogue Page 7

  I thrust deep, filled her in one long, hard stroke.

  Her fingers gripped the bedding as her head came back. She cried out at the force of my cock’s invasion. Her pussy clenched and milked my cock as she adjusted, her wet welcome coating me. My balls were covered with her juices, and when I pulled back, the sounds of wet, messy sex filled the air.

  I could scent her now, thick and sweet.

  “More?” I taunted.

  “More,” she replied immediately.

  It was just as I’d thought. This was the one way we were completely compatible. Completely perfect. Completely attuned.

  Everything fell away. Astra. The Coalition. The bounty. Quell. The antidote. All of it.

  This was pure instinct. Basic. Primitive. Perfect.

  The only thing I couldn’t do was bite. I could resist. I would, for her. She was too important to risk, too beautiful to hurt. Too fucking perfect.

  As I fucked her for the second time, I knew there would be no one better suited for me. We were perfect. Together.

  My handprint was bright and fierce on her pale skin, making my balls draw up. I was ready to come, but I didn’t want to see her ass or watch the way my cock disappeared inside her when I filled her with my seed.

  No, I wanted to see her face, to watch her as she came. And so I pulled out. She all but snarled at me for taking away her pleasure. I flipped her easily and sank back into her.

  I was so much taller I had to arch my back to meet her gaze.

  “Ivy,” I said, my voice ragged, my hips losing the steady rhythm for a cadence that came from nature, driving me to take her hard and fast until I came, until I pumped all my cum into her. Marked her. Scented her so everyone would know she was mine. No bite, but a well-fucked female was obvious to all on Rogue 5.

  “What?” she gasped, closed her eyes.

  “You’ll come when I do.”

  Her head moved back and forth on the bed. “I can’t hold off.”

  “You will.”

  Her eyes opened, and she stared at me, ready to argue with stinging words. Instead all that came out was a gasp as I altered the angle of my hips and rubbed over her clit.

  I couldn’t hold back, not with the way her inner muscles were rippling around me, how she got wetter from my two-word command.

  “Now.” I gritted my teeth, snarled my pleasure as I came, pumping all of me into her. The way she did exactly as I’d said and came with me increased the intensity of my release. Our orgasms merged, our breaths tangled, our hearts pounded.

  We were one in this moment, in total accord. Nothing would be more perfect except the bite. The mating fist that locked me to her.

  As I caught my breath, I realized I did not need those things to be satisfied with her. For while we would not be caught together for hours as the mating fist would ensure, as a formal claiming required, we could fuck again. And again. All night long.

  Ivy tangled her foot in my leg and lifted her hips. She flipped us. I allowed it—I was too big for her to do so against my will—so she was on top. Her body lowered on mine, her pussy a hot, wet clamp that tightened around my still-hard cock, dragging a moan of pleasure from me as she took me deeper, ground her ass against my groin.

  “Again,” she said.

  I smiled, well pleased.

  I’d been right. We were perfect for each other.

  As long as I didn’t bite. As long as I could keep myself from accidentally killing her.

  7

  Ivy, Astra Legion, Rogue 5

  * * *

  “How much can one person eat?” I sat across from Zenos and watched the giant male consume more food over the course of an hour than I could eat in a week. Not that I was complaining. My body was sated, my stomach was full and I wore brand-new Astran armor. I’d been given a green armband, signifying the Astra Legion, but had accidentally left it in Zenos’s room when he bent me over bathroom sink and fucked me from behind. A girl couldn’t complain about that reason.

  I’d dropped the uniform I was putting on and the armband must have been kicked under my old clothes. It didn’t matter since we were going back to his room for weapons before we started the hunt. I’d grab it then. Either way it didn’t appear to matter to anyone in the room, unlike with the Coalition. Everyone—and everything—had to be perfect all the time.

  The uniform, with its odd markings, appeared to be enough to convince the people here to trust me, or the fact that I was with Zenos, the hybrid eating machine. There was no doubt they could tell I was an outsider. In a weird way I felt like I was in a bar on the wrong side of the tracks, so completely different, but Astrans trusted each other’s judgments. If Zenos gave me a uniform and was with me, then I was in. People didn’t question, and I liked that. Respected it. I wasn’t getting any special attention or stares from the handful of families eating here. I was, in a sense, one of them.

  For now.

  Why that thought nearly brought me to tears, I didn’t understand and had no desire to examine more closely. I didn’t belong here on Rogue 5, not really. Or with Zenos. He knew I had taken the antidote and had filled me with his cock but still refused to bite me—not that I wanted a mate—and as soon as this bounty hunt was done, I was out of here. Gone. Like the wind. It wasn’t the mate thing that pissed me off, but the biting thing. He could bite me while his cock wasn’t in me. It would hurt, but I imagined the exquisite pleasure that would follow. They wouldn’t be so eager to do so if it wasn’t driven by orgasm. They weren’t ruthless animals. We were all alike in that, pushed to achieve that incredible feeling in fucking someone else.

  He denied himself that—and me—because he didn’t trust me. That hurt most of all. Coalition fighters had to trust each other with their lives. The Astrans around me trusted each other, trusted Zenos to have someone accompany him who was not a threat or danger.

  But Zenos trusting me? Nope.

  It was all just pretend. Fake. Temporary.

  “I like your hair down.” Zenos shoved more food into his mouth with an unapologetic grin. I sighed and turned in my seat to look around.

  Yes, I’d left my hair down instead of putting it up in the usual braid or ponytail that meant business. He’d commented on how he liked to look at the mesmerizing golden waves after he’d made me come all over his cock this morning. And much as I couldn’t quite believe I had done it, it turned out I was a romantic at heart after all.

  I’d liked his words. Was pleased by them. Felt… dare I even think it? Pretty.

  Apparently, I was vain, and I wanted him admiring me for as long as possible before we had to hunt. Admiring me. Wanting me. But trusting? I didn’t think that was possible.

  Maybe he’d even tell me I was beautiful…

  Because of this, my hair was down for the first time in so long I could barely remember it being left untamed. And there was a lot of it, falling to my waist like a blonde curtain.

  Enough thinking about my stupid hair. What was happening to me? I got a little bit of action between the sheets—and against the wall, in the bathing room—and I turned into the kind of woman who worried about her hair? Who took something that was just simple fucking and analyzed the hell out of it like a high school cheerleader?

  No. Not going there. I focused on the now, where we were eating. It wasn’t a cafeteria, exactly, but it wasn’t grandma’s kitchen either. The room was smallish, big enough for maybe thirty people to sit and eat at any given time. Since I was bored—I’d finished my meal what felt like eons ago—and nervous to hit Cerberus Legion, and so impatient to have the asshole who had sold the Quell to my unit in my grasp, I couldn’t just sit and stare any longer. I tapped my foot. Counted chairs.

  Two, four… ten. Twenty. Thirty-four. About half of them empty. Damn, I was good.

  “Why don’t you have an armband on? You’re gonna get in trouble. Astra can’t keep you safe if you don’t wear it every day. That’s what my mom says. Did you forget it in your room?”

  “What?” I tur
ned toward the small voice and discovered two little ones staring up at me with wide, curious eyes and absolutely no fear. The little girl was about five—assuming these Rogue 5 hybrids aged the same way human children did—and who I assumed was her younger brother, perhaps three. Close in age. Their dark brown hair, copper-toned skin and slightly angular features reminded me of the Prillon warriors I’d battled with in the Coalition Fleet. Prillon hybrids perhaps? Whatever they were, they were adorable, and so were the tiny fangs just visible when she smiled at me. A big, open, trusting smile. Prillon with fangs. What a ruthless combination, and yet in such adorable little packages.

  So innocent. With fangs. God, I was obsessed with the stupid fangs.

  “Why don’t you have your armband on?” she repeated.

  I cleared my throat and looked at Zenos for guidance. What was I supposed to say? I’d been too busy having sex to keep track of it? It got lost when the big hybrid Forsian seated across from me took me from behind? Yeah, neither of those would work. Zenos raised a brow and stuffed another bite of food into his mouth. Really helpful.

  “Well, I forgot it in my room,” I said finally, offering her a small smile. There wasn’t much opportunity to hang out with kids in the Coalition. Sure, some lived on the big battleships with their families, but I hadn’t really had contact with any of them. I’d been on the smaller crafts, just fighters waiting or being sent to battle. On Earth none of my friends had had kids yet, and I’d been an only child. I didn’t dislike children, I just hadn’t had much contact with them. Out of sight, out of mind, pretty much.

  She smiled and pulled her little brother by the arm, tucking him in closer to her side. He went, without complaint, which was damn adorable. “I’m Scylla and my brother is Nero.”

  “Nice to meet you both. I’m Ivy.”

  She nodded as if this was not new information, as if word of me had spread even to the preschool crowd.

  “My mother says you are mated to Zenos now.” She rocked back and forth on her heels, her eager face glowing with excitement. I had no idea what to say, but she kept talking. I looked about the room, wondered who her mother was. Why was she letting her kids come up to a stranger? Were there no worries here within Astra? It seemed not. Zenos didn’t worry, he kept shoveling in the food. “He is my favorite when we play giants and pirates. He makes the best noises.” Her face lit up with glee, and she clapped her hands together.

  “Who?”

  “Zenos. The best giant of them all.”

  “What?” Giants and pirates? Zenos?

  A loud roar came from Zenos, and I startled, so shocked, the sound bouncing off the walls of the room like a cannon blast. Like a giant.

  My ass hit the floor, the kiddos laughed like I was the funniest thing they’d ever seen and Zenos stood over all of us looking a bit too satisfied with himself, arms crossed over his chest. Grinning.

  I looked around quickly, but the other Astra adults in the room grinned or ignored us completely, as if this was a common scene. Zenos played with kids. Kids went up to strangers. I wasn’t a stranger, I was with Zenos. And he wasn’t just a big, brawny guy from Rogue 5 that liked to push my buttons and fuck me hard. He was also a huge softy. Who knew? Definitely not me.

  I hadn’t been prepared for that roar. I’d been too comfortable, too relaxed, which could have been the result of multiple orgasms. Now I was on the floor looking like an idiot—and my backside needed a good rubbing. I’d have to be prepared for that next time, to not let my guard down so much. The roar or any kind of enemy. I was too complacent, which made me scowl. Rattled, I messed with my hair, which was so fifteen-year-old-girl behavior. Another reason I didn’t leave it down. Frustrated, I gathered the long strands and swept the mess up over my shoulder to the front.

  Scylla gasped. “Oh! Can I touch them?”

  “What?” I asked… again. My hair? We all had hair, mine wasn’t anything special. But God, could I say anything else to the small child but what?

  Zenos’s playful grin had faded, and he looked at the two children with a grave expression.

  “Ivy does not understand our ways yet, little one, but as you can see, she is a very strong warrior.”

  His words sank in, making me feel warm and tingly and far too happy. Zenos thought I was strong, even with my ass on the floor? He didn’t even know the truth yet, the truth about my past, my injuries, the scars he said were special, what I’d done to survive…

  “Can I? Can I touch them?” Scylla’s eyes glowed, and she practically danced and wiggled around like she was either overexcited or had to pee.

  Touch what? I looked up to Zenos for help as Nero climbed into my lap and parked there on my thighs as if I were his mother and he belonged in my lap. Like he was mine.

  It was as if I was sitting with him at story time at the library or something. It was a swift and ridiculous idea. A dangerous, dangerous thought, that one. He wasn’t mine, and this definitely wasn’t preschool hour. I looked around again, searching for their parents. Rescue me!

  “Oh, um… okay,” I said when no one stepped forward.

  Completely at a loss as the tiny boy cuddled into me with a contented sigh, I looked from Nero to his dancing sister to the male staring down at me with a look in his eyes I’d never seen before. Gentle. Tender.

  Proud.

  “She wants to touch your scars, Ivy,” Zenos said. “As I told you, they are a mark of honor and strength within Astra Legion. If you doubted me, you can believe a small child, hmm? Only the strongest among us survive with such scars. The most trusted. The bravest. The protectors among us.”

  My scars? “You were serious? Really? But they’re on my back. She can’t even see…”

  A small hand settled at the base of my neck, and I stilled as she traced the line of my scar over my shirt, top to bottom.

  I gasped and Zenos explained. “Our uniforms are designed to pick up the markings on our skin and display them.” He pointed to his own arm and the odd assortment of marks and lines on his uniform that I’d always assumed was some kind of camouflage or intentional design. It was in the new clothing we’d donned earlier, not the other garments. Perhaps only here on Rogue 5 did they wear it, for I doubted anyone they met on Zenith had the same custom.

  “It’s a setting in the new uniforms,” he said, validating my thoughts. “Every scar is tracked by the suit and displayed as a badge of strength.”

  “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,” I murmured.

  I quoted the famous Earth saying as the little girl inspected me from head to toe, touching me everywhere with no self-consciousness at all. Arms. Shoulders. Legs. Obviously a curious little thing, when she reached the top of my uniform, she moved my hair aside so she could track the scar all the way up to the base of my skull.

  “Wow. You are very brave. Did that hurt?” she asked.

  “Yes.” The word was barely audible. Memory flashed through me like acid, and my breath caught in my throat, trapped there as the unexpected flash of horror held me paralyzed. I remembered the day my entire unit died, still wondered why I had not gone into the final dark with them. The images of that time crowded into my mind as if I had a horror film playing on repeat in my mind. I could still see the Hive Scout who’d sliced me open, feel the burning agony as my commander had pulled me through the dirt and gore before he’d died. The silence that had remained after they’d all succumbed still haunted me when I tried to sleep. I could see the surgeon, hear the crackling voice of the doctor who’d offered to make me more than what I was before, who gave me the illegal implants, who saved my life and gave me purpose.

  I’d spent two months in that filthy clinic on the outskirts of the sector. Two months of agony as I fought to survive despite the knowledge that they were dead. My friends. The only people I loved in this universe. Dead. Every. Last. One.

  “Ivy?” Zenos’s voice sounded far, far away, like an echo.

  The dining room in Astra Legion was gone. I was lost in my head, surround
ed by death. Agony.

  Pounding. All I could hear was the pounding of my blood through my ears. And screams. I covered my ears with my palms.

  “Zenos’s mate.” Small. Innocent. So trusting. Nero brought me back to reality with a tug on my wrists and soft words.

  Blinking, I pushed the memories back like I’d done thousands of times before. I blushed furiously, realizing what had happened. I dropped my hands to gently lift him from my lap. He went without protest, and I pushed myself to my feet to look down at both him and the little girl. She looked unsure now, and I hated myself for that. One more thing to add to the list. I gave her a small smile of reassurance. “Yes, honey, it hurt. A lot. But I’m okay now.”

  “Because you are strong.” She nodded as if it were fact. She knew about scars, knew they were wounds that hurt, but nothing more complex than that. Thank God. A child’s mind was so innocent of danger. Her smile was a relief, and I reached out to touch her soft cheek. She really was beautiful.

  “Yes.” I was, and it was time to start acting like it. To get my head back in the fucking game. Enough mooning over an alien male I couldn’t have. Enough feeling safe, feeling cared for. The clothing didn’t mean I truly belonged. It meant I wasn’t naked. And my hair… God. Who could fight with long tresses getting in the way? Maybe in a Hollywood movie, but this was real. This was Rogue 5. I was such an idiot. Enough.

  I shifted my gaze to Zenos, crossed my arms over my chest. “Playtime’s over. Let’s go. I have a job to do. It is time to find Gerian Eozara.”

  He lingered for a few moments to say goodbye to the children, but I couldn’t watch. I didn’t want to see him with them, didn’t need that image in my mind of Zenos as the big, loving protector. As a father. As more than just the guy I fucked, because if I thought about him in any way but a giant orgasm machine, I might start to care. And that was the most dangerous thing of all.