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Seized & Seduced Page 3
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“Gods,” he muttered, not releasing Lynx’s gaze.
Lynx gave him a nervous smile but didn’t glance away either. “It’s not just me who feels as if I’m about to jump out of my skin?”
“No. I know what I want to do. It’s probably not wise.”
Lynx swallowed, the strong chords of his throat moving noticeably. “Tell me.”
“I want to rip off your clothes and touch you.” Shiloh was amazed he could keep his voice steady with urgency crashing his mind. When Lynx didn’t reply, Shiloh continued. “I want to put my mouth on you, rub our cocks together. And I want to fuck you.” His left hand clenched against the calibore’s fur. “That graphic enough for you?”
“Yes.”
Shiloh barked out a hard laugh. “Sorry if I’ve shocked you.”
“Hellfire.” Lynx raked his fingers through his hair, his normal easy expression absent. “Never wanted to jump another man. Do you think they’ve done something to us?”
“What?” Aware he was gaping, Shiloh pressed his lips together. The partnering of two men wasn’t acceptable on Viros, and hearing Lynx’s confession did strange things to his insides, played with his mind. His friend was the younger prince, second-in-line to rule the House of the Cat.
“Can’t fight it any longer. I don’t know what is wrong with me, but I think of two things. My cat and you. If I can’t touch you soon, my feline will take charge. Having trouble controlling him.”
Shiloh fought the images trying to invade his mind, fought for control. “The queen wouldn’t approve.”
“My mother isn’t here.”
“The queen thinks I lead you astray.”
Lynx grinned and Shiloh’s stomach bucked at the glint of mischief. He found himself stepping closer to inhale Lynx’s scent. The blood drained to his cock, his thoughts drifting…
“No.” Shiloh forced himself to stop. “You heard what the guards said about it not mattering if one of us dies. What if they decide we’re both defective?”
“We deal with this cycle and each successive one as it comes. Chances of rescue are slim, so the rules change.” Lynx’s forehead wrinkled then he gave an impatient huff. “We concentrate on staying alive.”
“And if this weird attraction doesn’t go away?”
“No idea.” Lynx glanced at him then away, which gave Shiloh a big hint about how off balance his friend was at this hint of sexual attraction.
“Do I disgust you? Does the idea of me touching you—”
“We touch each other all the time.”
“This is different.” Shiloh wasn’t sure why he was belaboring the point. “Will you let me touch you now?”
Lynx swallowed and glanced through the open cage bars. Apart from the other prisoners, they were alone. When he turned back, his eyes glowed with an inner fervor. He raked his nails across his chest, scratching vigorously. “I feel as if I’m going to burst out of my skin if I don’t get closer to you, but we can’t let the guards catch us. To have any chance of escape, we have to stay together. What if they have surveillance?”
“We’ve checked the cell from top to bottom.”
“True.” Lynx’s gaze went to Shiloh’s mouth, and it was as if invisible fingers played over his flesh.
Shiloh fought to contain his shudder of pleasure. One of them needed to remain in control. For Lynx to admit his feelings proved he wasn’t doing well, which meant he had to step up. It was how their partnership worked, how their business had become successful. “We can touch each other in a casual manner. Maybe the physical contact will be enough.”
Lynx reached behind to scratch his back. “Phrull it. You’d think that nasty disinfectant the guards spray everywhere would kill off the bugs.”
“Come over here.” Shiloh slid down against the rear wall of their cell. “I promise if we get out of this alive, I’ll continue as normal and won’t throw this in your face. Surviving is the important thing. It doesn’t matter how we do it.”
Lynx searched his expression and must’ve read the sincerity, the honesty Shiloh tried to project. Lynx had seen him commit acts of stupidity over the years, screw up sometimes—just as he had—but he’d never once lied.
Finally, Lynx nodded and the knot of fear inside Shiloh subsided. “If we need to remain close for longer, we can pull our pallets together after the blacklight feeding. Once they adjust the illumination.”
“Yes,” Lynx said, and he slid to the floor beside him. They leaned against the wall, the vibration from the ship’s engines throbbing through their bodies. Time for departure if they’d switched on the engines. For a short time, they said nothing. Shiloh wanted to smile but knew this wasn’t the moment to make fun of his friend. Instead he slid nearer until their arms and shoulders touched. Both still stared straight ahead, but some of the strain faded.
“I’ve been racking my brain, but I can’t recall much about Manx Two. We passed through once, but from memory we took on fuel and left straightaway.”
“It’s a hostile planet. Lots of deserts,” Lynx said. “The city is built under a temperature-controlled dome.”
Shiloh sucked in a breath and felt the tautness fade from his muscles. The proximity seemed to be working, and Lynx appeared more relaxed.
“Remember, that was the place where they’d predicted a big sandstorm. Another reason we didn’t dally.”
“We haven’t been home to Viros for almost an entire rotation. I kind of miss it after a while,” Shiloh said, more for something to fill the silence.
“The folks will nag us. The usual stuff.”
“Ellard’s not so bad.”
“Better than my brother,” Lynx said. “I wonder if Jarlath still has a stick up his arse.”
They glanced at each other, and Shiloh grinned.
“Yeah, he probably does,” Lynx said.
The rest of the cycle crawled while they waited for the evening meal. The woman didn’t stir, but the calibore watched them in wary interest.
A guard appeared, holding a weapon. Two guards behind him carried something—the last prisoner. They entered the empty cell opposite them, placed the large body on a pallet on the floor, locked the door and retreated. A threatening growl from the prisoner made them laugh. Still joking amongst each other, they departed without a backward glance.
The prisoner struggled to his feet, and Shiloh bit back a gasp. A tremin. He’d heard tales and thought the talk the stuff of myths. The male’s skin was rough and uneven like the bark of a tree, his entire body exposed apart from his groin. He wore a brown loincloth to preserve his modesty. His hair was green and rustled when he checked the door of his cell.
“Thy is rude to stare,” the man said in a deep voice that boomed between his cell and theirs.
“My apologies.” Shiloh stood and strode to their cell door for a better look.
Lynx joined him, and Shiloh couldn’t restrain his compulsion. He moved closer until their hips touched and Lynx’s scent swirled around him. Lynx groaned, a low, tortured sound that twisted Shiloh’s guts into knots.
“Steady.” Shiloh kept his voice low. “Take shallow breaths. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Where are they taking us?” the tremin asked.
The hum of the engines increased, the deck beneath their feet vibrating.
“Manx Two,” Lynx said. “They’re taking us to an auction house.”
The tremin’s jerk of denial set his leaf hair rustling. “I be the owner of me.” He pounded his chest with one large brown fist, and another rustle sounded.
Hope surged in Shiloh. “Does anyone know where you are?”
“Thy do.” Confidence radiated from him for a sec before fading to leave his features pale. “I…I forgot. They’re dead. They killed my family. My wife. For a sec, I forgot.”
The tremin retreated to the rear of his cell and dropped to his knees. He clasped brown boney hands and dipped his head. He was still praying when the guards arrived with their meal.
Lynx stared at the
bowls of stew and fruit and vegetables, some alien to him with their glossy-colored skins. “Do you think they’re putting something in the food?”
“It would make sense if they wanted to keep us calm, but I doubt they’d want to make us horny.”
Lynx spluttered out a laugh, the sound carrying a hard edge of tension. “Doesn’t matter either way. I’m going out of my mind.”
Shiloh moved closer to Lynx and slid his arm around his friend’s shoulders. Something inside him calmed at the contact, and Lynx leaned against him with a soft sigh.
The illumination lowered, signaling blacklight, the time of rest. Shiloh checked the woman and the calibore. She was still unconscious, but the calibore remained awake and watchful. Shiloh cautiously petted the creature’s head and it sighed.
Lynx pressed his fingertips to her forehead. “At least her temperature has dropped.”
“She should have regained consciousness.”
“The doctor didn’t seem worried.” Shiloh scowled at the still woman and scratched an itchy spot on his chest. He glanced up to see Lynx staring at him. “What?”
Lynx’s gaze skittered away before darting back to him. He swallowed. “I need…” He trailed off, his discomfort clear at admitting his requirements, years of conditioning working against him, despite him accepting Shiloh’s sexual proclivities.
For once Shiloh didn’t fire off an insult about stuck-up royal princes. Instead, he extended his hand and waited. This last bit was up to Lynx. Damn if he was going to force the issue and have it come back to bite him on the arse.
The little contact they’d done to date had helped settle their felines. Maybe that would be enough.
The firm clasp of Lynx’s hand in his sent a jolt to his groin. He grunted and tightened his grip, closing his eyes for an instant. His next deep breath drew in musk and desire, and he tugged Lynx to the rear of their cell, eagerness a compulsion thrumming through his veins.
“Gods, Shiloh.” Lynx trembled as they settled on their pallets. His face held uncertainty, instead of his usual confidence.
“You can change your mind if you want.”
“No.” Lynx rolled toward him, and his green eyes glowed catlike in the darkness. His fingers stroked Shiloh’s cheek. A harsh breath tore up Shiloh’s throat in reaction. A groan. “Damn.”
“Nervous?”
Lynx gave a bark of laughter. “Hell yeah, I’m nervous, but I’m not gonna let that stop me.” And with that, Lynx mashed his lips against his. It wasn’t pretty, contained nothing but raw need. Hands slid beneath tunics, ran over pectoral muscles and tight bellies. They changed the angles of their heads and suddenly, they fit, their lips moving in sync, hard bodies grinding together.
It was like igniting a torch. The intense desire Shiloh had felt for the last cycles flared into desperation. On the plus side, his feline purred, making him realize how jittery he’d been.
“Clothes,” he mumbled, lifting his head. “I want to feel skin.”
Lynx didn’t reply but ripped his shirt over his head. He kicked off his boots and underskins then tore his trews down his legs.
Shiloh stared, his hand trembling when he reached out to touch. His friend was all lean muscles and tanned flesh, his cock full and erect. His gaze drifted upward and came to a halt on the curve of Lynx’s lips.
“Like what you see?”
Shiloh shed his clothes. The first touch of skin against skin sizzled through him. They moaned in unity, sliding against each other, lining up their hips. Then they were grinding together in mindless urgency. Shiloh gripped Lynx’s shoulders, kissed his mouth, his neck, letting the erotic assault to his senses and body wash over him like a sonic wave. Lynx’s breathing went shallow even as he rocked his pelvis forward. Shiloh strained against Lynx, biting back his roar of pleasure as the engorged length of his cock slid across firm muscles. Gods, this was good. So good, and exactly what he’d needed.
The electric feel of climax rushed from his balls, up his cock until heat and pressure rampaged through his body. He gasped and with a convulsive heave, his orgasm exploded through him. Lynx’s skin felt hot against his, and his friend shuddered, jerking a fraction when Shiloh reached between them to grip his shaft. Shiloh pumped his fist. Up and down. Up and down. The entire time he watched Lynx’s face. The initial panic. The uncertainty. The groan of surrender. He heard Lynx’s breathing turn shallow, gloried in the hungry sound of pleasure.
Lynx could handle more, Shiloh decided. Using his other hand, he cupped the heavy weight of Lynx’s testicles.
Lynx grunted, his features full of desperate need. “Please.”
Shiloh kissed Lynx, sliding his tongue inside while he moved one hand lower. His finger pressed down on the smooth skin between his balls and hole and slipped closer to his entrance.
Lynx gave one long groan and came, his come erupting from his cock in hard spurts. Shiloh continued with the slow caress of his hand until Lynx muttered a protest.
“I was—” Shiloh cut off his indignant words when Lynx smiled and wrapped his arms around his shoulders.
“I get a bit sensitive after I come.”
The annoyance bled from him at Lynx’s confession, the tightness releasing from his muscles. He pressed against Lynx, he who never lingered or cuddled a lover, and realized he’d never felt this satisfied. The crawling, itchy sensation beneath his skin had subsided, and his cat settled with a lazy purr. “I thought we were going to restrict ourselves to touching.”
“You know me. Leaping before I look. I…it seemed right.”
“What happens if we’ve made the longings worse?”
“I feel tranquil now. At peace,” Lynx said with not a shred of hesitation.
So did he, for the first time in many cycles. Shiloh ran his hand down Lynx’s sweaty back, content with his lot, despite their captivity. Lynx gave a happy sigh and curled himself around Shiloh. The weirdness of this situation struck Shiloh again. He’d just ground against the prince, spurted his seed on the prince’s chest and belly and the kicker was he’d do it again in a heartbeat.
* * * * *
Her eyes were light gray.
“You’re awake,” Shiloh blurted, his hand stilling on the calibore’s head.
Lynx’s hand jerked from her arm, a dull red filling his cheeks. “Sorry.”
“I should think so,” the woman said. “The last man who attempted to do that had his stones crushed.”
“Stones?” Shiloh asked, unfamiliar with the term.
She cast a quick glance at his groin, her lips twitching.
“Ah, of course.” Shiloh rolled to his feet.
Lynx rose too. “We weren’t intending any harm. We wanted to make sure your temperature was back to normal.”
The calibore chattered insistently, wriggling and indicating its desire to return to the woman. She grimaced. “Let me get up first.” She stood and took in their bare cell at a glance. “How long have I been out?”
“Almost two cycles,” Shiloh said. “How long have you been awake?”
Amusement flickered across her face. “A while. It was noisy in here.”
“You watched…why didn’t you say something?” A wash of red appeared in Lynx’s cheeks.
Shiloh wanted to curse. Great. Just phrullin great. Lynx would backtrack now that the woman was conscious. Yesterday he wouldn’t have cared, but now he’d touched Lynx, tasted him, and he didn’t want to take a step back. Finally, he understood the true reason he’d agreed to leave his family and everything he knew to follow Lynx all over the universe.
Her gaze darted to the feline tattoos decorating their biceps. “I didn’t want to attract attention until I decided if you were friendlies. How long until we reach our destination?”
“We’re not sure. All we know is the ship is bound for private auctions on Manx Two. They’re gonna auction off the specimens they’ve collected,” Lynx said. “That’s all we know.”
“Fukk,” she muttered, her shoulders hunching inward. Her hea
d dropped, and Shiloh noted the faint tremor of her hands before she clasped her fingers in a tangle. “Will anyone try to rescue you?”
Shiloh bit down on his tongue, and when he was sure he could contain his fury, he said, “We were visiting Chatta, a new destination, to pick up goods for trade. We went to the tavern for a meal. This idiot let a sweet-honey pick him up. She drugged him in her room, and when I went looking for him, we both got doped.”
“I’ve said I’m sorry.” Lynx blew out a noisy breath. “How many times do I have to say it?”
Instead of his usual angry retort, Shiloh decided to investigate a theory. He sidled over to Lynx and wrapped his arm around Lynx’s shoulders. “They would have got us anyway. We made it easier for them.”
“You’re from Viros?”
Shiloh’s bodyguard defenses rose in suspicion. They had to take care. As much as Lynx might annoy him, he’d never disclose his identity. Their captors hadn’t worried about people searching for them, which told Shiloh someone with a great deal of power and money backed this enterprise. It occurred to him it wouldn’t be silly for their captors to plant a spy in order to decipher their value. They’d need to watch their chatter until they discovered more about this woman.
“Will someone miss you?” Lynx asked.
A series of differing expressions shimmered over her face, so quickly he didn’t know what the hell they meant, except he got a sense of wariness. Finally, she said, “Yes, hopefully they’re tracking me now.”
“How?” Shiloh asked.
“All the crew has trackers embedded in our arms. The Indy should be able to find me as long as they don’t let this ship get too far ahead. How many guards are there?”
“We’ve seen the men who feed us plus the doctor who treated you,” Lynx said. “Six different ones.”
“Do you know who is in charge?”
Lynx grimaced. “That would be the man they call Piros. Big dude. Rides a cyberbeest. At least he’s the one in charge of captures.”
“Same guy who captured me.” She fired questions at them with the ease of someone used to taking charge. Her natural leadership skills raised Shiloh’s curiosity, and he could see the same interest blooming in Lynx. Lynx shrugged off Shiloh’s arm and strolled closer to the woman.