Scarred Page 9

  Brok took two steps to stand next to her. “I promise, I will not let you out of my sight.” A growl escaped his throat. “And I will break that prince’s neck if he lays a finger on you.”

  The thought of the pale-haired alien groping her made his blood heat and his fingers coil into tight fists. He knew Madeleine was not his to claim, but he also knew he would die before he would let that unworthy creature touch her again.

  She put a hand on his arm. “I’ll be fine. Wouldn’t neck breaking violate some sort of diplomatic or first-contact code, anyway?”

  Brok gave her a quick smile. “I’m Inferno Force. The rules are more like suggestions.”

  “My kind of rules,” Madeleine said.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Maddie followed the Spartosian attendant down the winding staircase, holding one hand over her top to keep the beads from clattering against each other. Her outfit was ridiculous, although she guessed it was better than the one Serge had to wear. At least the Gatazoid was attending the party or baccavalia or whatever it was, and wasn’t being forced to work in the kitchens or serve the food. She felt better with him around, even though he was half her size and probably couldn’t do much but scream hysterically if anything bad happened.

  She knew she should be more relieved to have Captain Brok shadowing them in secret, but if she was being honest, his presence was more unnerving than comforting. Something about the Drexian made her feel all jittery, and jittery was not a feeling she was used to.

  His purpose is to get you out of here, Madeleine, she told herself. Nothing more.

  Then why did his eyes flash when he looked at her? And why did her mouth go dry when he was near her?

  She peered over her shoulder as they were led through various corridors and over vaulted walkways toward the palace. He was somewhere behind them, even if the cloaking device prevented her from seeing him.

  “Eyes front,” Serge said to her in a low, urgent voice as she turned around for the third time.

  She nodded and turned to face front as they were led into the main hall where they’d earlier met the Spartosian royalty. She adjusted the bejeweled mask she’d been given, relieved for the small feeling of anonymity the eye covering gave her, even if it did make her wonder what kind of creepy-ass party they were going to.

  Madeleine stopped short as they walked in, and Serge nearly walked into her.

  “A little warning next time, sweetie.” He put his hands up to keep from walking into her ass, the pointy nose of his mask nearly poking her.

  “Sorry.” Madeleine tried not to openly gape, but it was hard to keep her jaw from dangling.

  The massive, open space had completely transformed since they’d last seen it. Instead of light streaming in from the high windows, heavy, red drapes hung from floor-to-ceiling and made the hall dark. The only light came from glowing candles along the stone walls, making shadows dance along the floor as Spartosians milled about in costumes just as unusual as the ones she and Serge wore and twice as revealing.

  “Well, that’s a bit much,” Serge whispered, as a male passed them in nothing but shiny, gold hot pants, carrying a matching whip and wearing a black-and-gold mask.

  Other masked party-goers sprawled across enormous, tufted ottomans that were arranged in the long space behind the tall columns. As far as she could see, the center of the room was uncovered by furniture or tables, but was filled with costumed Spartosians talking in small groups and sipping crimson drinks out of tall flutes.

  Their attendant shoved two drinks in their hands. “Enjoy the baccavalia.”

  Madeleine didn’t have time to ask any questions before the attendant had disappeared into the crowd, leaving her and Serge standing by themselves.

  “Do you smell that?” Serge asked, sniffing the air.

  She inhaled, but her nose didn’t pick up anything but the cacophony of perfume and burning candles. “Burning wax?”

  He shook his head. “Food. I’m starving, aren’t you?”

  Now that she thought about it, it had been a while since she’d eaten. “Should we eat anything? What if it’s drugged?”

  “I was in the kitchens, remember?” Serge said. “I never saw anyone adding something suspicious to what they were making.”

  She followed the Gatazoid as he led them through the crowd, avoiding meeting the curious gazes from the scantily clad aliens. At least they were all wearing masks and so was she, although it wasn’t hard to tell she wasn’t one of them since they were all blonde, and she definitely wasn’t.

  “Some people need to learn to keep it in the yard,” Serge muttered, as they passed a Spartosian female gleefully spanking a male who wore nothing but a shimmery kilt that was lifted to reveal his bare ass.

  When one of the Spartosian males eyed her boldly, his gaze behind his mask clearly traveling up and down her body, Madeleine felt the rumble of a low growl behind her. She jumped and put a hand to her heart, realizing that it had come from the Drexian captain.

  “You scared me,” she whispered, glancing behind her.

  “I do not like the way these Spartosians look at you,” came the low response.

  Luckily, the buzz of the crowd was such that no one but her could hear him.

  “You and me both,” she said out of the corner of her mouth, keeping a smile plastered to her face. “Halloween was never my thing, anyway.”

  “Halloween?”

  It was strange to hear his disembodied voice, but she was also comforted by knowing he was close. Since she couldn’t see him, she couldn’t get flustered by his intense gaze, or distracted by his impressive physique.

  “An Earth thing,” she told him. “People dress up in costumes and masks. I never got into dressing up like someone else, and I’ve always been creeped out by masks. People do things in masks they never would normally.”

  “Are you afraid you will do something you would not normally do?”

  “Me?” She skirted around a group of females in outfits that looked like they were constructed entirely out of colored string. “No. But I don’t trust any of these oversexed aliens.”

  “Nor do I.” His warm breath tickled the back of her neck. “That is why I am not letting you out of my sight.”

  A shiver of pleasure skated down her spine, and she bit her lip. Maybe she’d spoken too soon about doing something she normally wouldn’t do.

  They finally reached a table laden with food, and her stomach growled in response. She was hungrier than she’d thought.

  Glancing around, Madeleine noticed that she and Serge were the only ones showing any interest in the food.

  “Are we sure we’re supposed to eat this?” she asked, looking at the pristine trays of colorful, bite-sized food. None of them looked like any type of Earth food, but the savory scents were familiar. “No one else is eating.”

  “They’re too busy drinking.” Serge plucked a shiny, purple tartlet off a tiered tray.

  Madeleine peered around her. He was right about that. The other party-goers were tossing back glass after glass of the ruby-red drink being circulated on trays. She looked down at her own glass and was startled to see that she’d emptied half of it.

  Ugh. She must have been sipping at it subconsciously. Bad party habit, she thought.

  Serge swallowed the purple tart. “Not bad. You should try one.”

  Madeleine hesitated. Now that they’d stopped moving, she felt a slight buzzing in her fingertips. “We’re sure the drinks aren’t drugged?”

  “Well, they’re party drinks,” Serge mumbled as he filled a plate with food. “Even if they aren’t doused with feel-good drugs, I doubt they’re benign.”

  “I was afraid of that.” Madeleine wasn’t as out of it as she had been when she’d been forced to swallow the pill, but she was definitely feeling the effects of the drink.

  Serge looked up at her and her half-empty glass. “You drank it? I thought we agreed no drinking.”

  She put her glass down on the food table. “I di
d it out of habit.”

  “Are you okay?” Serge hurried over to her and took one hand. “Do you have any uncontrollable urges to spank someone?”

  She smiled at him. “I’m fine. More tingly than usual, though.”

  “Tingly good, or tingly…” Serge waggled his eyebrows. “…naughty?”

  Madeleine wasn’t sure. Her skin felt overly sensitive, and she was very aware of Brok behind her.

  Serge’s eyes grew wide as they caught on something off to one side. “I suppose now isn’t the best time to tell you that I see the handsy prince approaching.”

  She started to turn, but Serge jerked her hands. “Don’t look. He’ll know you saw him. I’ll make up a story to cover for you while you two go hide.”

  “Copy that.” Brok’s voice was a dark purr as his hand closed over her arm, and he pulled her away.

  Madeleine didn’t have the chance to say a word before she was being tugged through the crowd in the opposite direction.

  “Your highness.” Serge’s voice rose above the din of conversation. “What a pleasure to see you again.”

  She didn’t turn to see how Serge was distracting the prince, but she guessed it was effective because she didn’t hear the Spartosian calling after her or feel his grasp pulling her back.

  Brok moved her quickly through the crush of barely-dressed aliens. It was a good thing the Spartosians were even more impaired than she was. They barely seemed to notice being jostled by a large, invisible force as Brok parted the crowds and led her to the far wall.

  “Where are we—?” She started to ask before the heavy curtains covering the windows fluttered, and she was being pulled behind the fabric.

  There was more space than she’d imagined, as the fabric didn’t lie flat against the windows, but instead was suspended from curtain rods that extended an arm’s length away from the walls.

  “What if he saw me slip in here?” she asked, looking nervously back at the edge of the fabric.

  Brok’s body pressed her against the wall, causing her breath to rush out of her, and her body to become invisible. “Better?”

  The jolt that shot through her had nothing to do with the sweet beverage she’d drunk, and everything to do with how good his firm body felt against hers. She pressed her hands to his chest muscles and stroked his silky skin. “Much better.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  He couldn’t see her fingers feathering across his muscles, but he could feel them. Her touch was like a whisper, but it still seared his skin.

  Closing his hand over hers, he stopped her strokes. Even though her fingers no longer moved across his skin, the heat of her small hands made his heart pound, and he was sure she could hear it.

  “What’s wrong?” she whispered, her words making him close his eyes as her breath tickled his flesh.

  “You are impaired.”

  “The fuck I am.” She pulled her hands out from underneath his and moved them down to his stomach.

  He dropped his hands to her hips, intending to push her away, but realizing that he could not. He needed to be close to her to keep her cloaked. If he moved away from her, she could be seen.

  “Madeleine.” He tried to keep his voice steady, but it sounded choked even to his own ears.

  “I thought I told you to call me Maddie.” She placed her mouth where her hands had been, kissing his chest lightly.

  He gripped her hips tighter, more to keep himself from running his hands up her body than anything else. “Maddie. You do not know what you are doing.”

  Her arms wrapped around his back and her fingertips brushed his nodes. “I’m pretty sure I do.”

  Her words were not slurred, but Brok suspected the drink was stronger than she’d thought it was. He’d seen enough of what went on around Spartos City to know that its occupants were kept in some sort of state of perpetual arousal. It was the only way to explain why she was touching him the way she was.

  He gritted his teeth as she rubbed his engorged nodes and sent desire pounding through him. “You need to stop.”

  “Why? We can’t get caught back here. No one can see us.” She stopped kissing his chest. “Don’t you want me?”

  His heart hammered in his chest at her touch. “It is not about wanting you. I am here to rescue you. Not claim you. You are not mine.”

  Her mouth closed over his nipple, and his knees nearly buckled as she nipped it softly, then harder. “I’m not anyone’s, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun.”

  “I am an Inferno Force captain,” he said, more to remind himself.

  “That means you don’t get to have fun?”

  He slid his hands from her hips to catch her hands as they moved farther south. He did not want her to feel how hard he was or that he was about to pop out of his tight boxer briefs. “Not with a tribute bride who isn’t mine.”

  “Come on,” she teased him. “We’re in an alien city at a crazy party where a prince is after me, and half the guests are probably going to get it on with each other before the night is out. You’re telling me you don’t want to live a little?”

  “It isn’t about what I want.”

  “Then it can be about what I want.” Her fingers worked one of his hard nodes until his eyes almost rolled back in his head. “And I want you.”

  “You do not want me.” He managed to grind the words out between ragged breaths.

  “Why not?” Her lips hummed against his skin. “You’re brave and strong and gorgeous. Not to mention big all over. I like big.”

  He started at her description. How could she think he was gorgeous? Hadn’t she seen his scar? “You will be matched with a more suitable Drexian warrior.”

  “I can’t imagine any Drexian being more suitable than you.” She ran her tongue up the side of his throat and sucked on his ear lobe. “You’re so honorable you won’t touch a woman who’s practically throwing herself at you.”

  “Because I know you will regret it. Any female as perfect as you deserves a mate who is not damaged. If you were not impaired, you would not want me.”

  Her hands stilled. “Why would you think that? You think I don’t know what I want?”

  “You could have any male. You would not settle for me if you were not drunk.”

  “First of all, I’m not drunk.” Her voice had lost its breathiness. “And second, in what universe would it be considered settling to be with someone as hot as you?”

  “I am disfigured.”

  “Are you talking about your scar?”

  He didn’t respond. The last thing he wanted was her pity.

  “Well, you couldn’t be more wrong.” She lifted her arms until her hands found his face, and she traced one finger down the scar that bisected one side. “It just proves you’re a badass, and I think it’s sexy as hell.”

  In one fluid movement, he swept her up in his arms and crushed his mouth to hers. The kiss wasn’t soft or tender; it was dark and dominant, and he took possession of her mouth with a hard swipe of his tongue. She whimpered as he fisted a hand in her hair and jerked her head back so he could kiss her deeper, but she sank into the kiss, her own arms tightening around him and stroking his nodes harder.

  No female had ever touched his scar, and certainly none had called it sexy. The few females he’d seen since his injury had either averted their eyes or stared openly at it. But not Madeleine. She’d never looked at him as if he was damaged.

  Backing her fully into the wall, he ground his cock into her, unable to stop the need storming through him. He moved his hands urgently from her back down to her ass and lifted her up until her legs wrapped around his waist. It was easy to feel her through the flimsy fabric of her skirt, and even easier to slide a hand under her skirt and touch the slickness of her thighs.

  Grek. She was so wet for him. He arched up and his cock bumped against her opening, the only thing separating them was a few layers of fabric. Knowing that she wanted him so badly made his body tremble as he tried to restrain himself.
>
  He knew he should not touch her like this. She was a tribute bride he’d been sent to rescue, not claim for himself. High Command would not look kindly upon him screwing her brains out before he delivered her to her mate. Even if they never discovered his transgression, he would be wronging the Drexian who ended up being her match. Honor demanded he stop.

  “Please, Brok,” Madeleine said through snatches of breath when he tore his mouth away from hers.

  He couldn’t see her, but he felt her rapid breath and her heaving chest. It was almost impossible for him to stop. His need for her was overwhelming, blocking out every rational thought. The taste and feel of her were so exhilarating that everything around him disappeared.

  Everything but the voice in the back of his head, warning him to stop before he got too deep. He couldn’t fall for her and then lose her. He wouldn’t survive more heartbreak and disappointment.

  “I can’t” He pulled back and she reappeared, her own face flushed.

  She moved down his body until she was on her knees. “If you can’t, then I can.”

  He felt frozen as she quickly freed his cock and fisted it in one hand. With a tap of his finger, he disengaged the cloaking device. He wanted to see her. And he wanted to watch her touch him.

  Madeleine grinned up at him. “You want to watch me suck your cock?”

  He tried to respond, but the words were stuck in his throat. All he could do was stare down at her as she swirled her pink tongue around his crown, teasing him and smiling wider.

  “I’ve been dying to know if you’re really as huge as you look.” She pumped her hand up and down his shaft. “I am not disappointed, Captain.”

  He tangled one hand in her hair, knowing he should tell her to stop but desperate that she keep going. “If it is too much—”

  She shook her head then licked her lips and eyed his cock. “I told you I like a challenge. And sucking down this bad boy is a challenge worth accepting.”

  He dropped his head back, as she closed her mouth around his crown. The warm wetness was almost too much for him to take, and he bit down on his bottom lip to keep from groaning. He knew it was wrong, but her mouth on him felt so right.