Captured & Seduced Read online

  “Piss off.”

  A bark of laughter erupted. Not timid at all. The Earthling became more intriguing by the min. “We’re stuck here until our pursuers cease their search.”

  Camryn’s dark brows scrunched together. “We could have returned to the ship.”

  “And attract attention to the Indy? Why do you think we docked our frigate at the old spaceport? It’s called keeping a low profile.”

  She advanced on him, mouth set, eyes flashing. Ry’s mouth quivered in the beginnings of a grin. It disappeared smartly when her right hand fisted and she let rip, landing a punch in his stomach. Didn’t hurt but he grabbed her hand to avoid a repeat blow.

  The instant they touched his control ebbed, the feral cat taking over. Ry struggled to bat him into submission while telling himself he’d saved himself from another blow.

  A lie.

  Ry ached for her touch, craving her with an intensity he’d never experienced in the past. Despite his misgivings, he went with the feline’s desires, hauling Camryn against his chest, holding her squirming body with brute strength.

  “Cease.” His order brought renewed resistance, and a grunt hissed from him when her boot connected with his ankle. Secs later, his mouth slammed down on hers. Not a gentle kiss but a statement of intent.

  A claiming.

  After a brief hesitation Camryn’s tense body slackened into acquiescence. With a soft sigh, she slid her arms around his neck to cling, lips parting hungrily, her submission taking him by surprise. Her low moan of pleasure dispersed his lingering doubts. Ry relaxed and let the hunger flare out of check.

  Hotter.

  Brighter.

  He ran urgent hands down her back, over her curvy ass and lifted her, cradling her against his chest. The warmth of her body created a series of explosions inside, chipping away the cool voice of reason, the remnants of his restraint.

  “You push at my feline,” he said in a low growl as he forced himself to pull away a fraction.

  “You say it like that’s a bad thing,” she purred, clinging to him sweetly and baffling the hell out him.

  A paradox. The woman was full of them. At first weak and scared, now her fear had eased. Her contradictions fascinated him as much as her exquisite scent and sexy body.

  “I need control to keep my feline at bay.” The truth, but for the last half cycle his feline had gripped him firmly by the balls. With Camryn’s presence, he’d slipped the leash entirely.

  “Does it hurt when you change forms?” Camryn stroked his cheek, a frown of concentration on her face. Instantly, power flared beneath his skin, transmitting her touch to every part of his body. The feline arched and purred, and Ry accepted he was in trouble. The woman rubbed wantonly against his burgeoning erection while a smile played on her lips. Seductive. Knowing.

  “Not really. The change—it just happens. I picture the cat in my mind and shift.” Ry stole another look and knew he had to kiss her again. A compulsion. He moved slowly, in an effort to temper his former roughness, not wanting to scare her into telling him to stop.

  Their lips touched and he sipped, tasted. Savored. All the time trying to go slow. Yes! To his relief she started to return his kiss, opening her mouth in encouragement to take the kiss deeper. Mogens must have given her some of his mouth fresheners, and she delivered a burst of aniseed along with her enthusiasm. He gloried in the sleek feel of her body, the smooth curve of her top lip and the luscious lower one. A purr rumbled through his mind. Camryn tasted good. Too damn good. And she could kiss, knowing how to tease, to drive him higher, make him crave more. Her sharp nip of pain was soothed with the moist rasp of her tongue. Without stopping his exploration of her mouth, he carried her to the bed, dropping her onto the blue silken covers.

  He stared, still trying to do the right thing and ripped his gaze away from her swollen, glistening lips. For a bordello, the room appeared clean and didn’t offend his nose with the stench of unclean bodies or the use of scent to disguise offensive smells. Ry removed her boots and set them aside.

  “I think I’m dreaming.” She lay in the middle of the feather mattress, staring at him with her golden-brown eyes. They glowed like tiger-eye gems while her tongue darted out to moisten the full curve of her lower lip.

  “This isn’t a dream.” A touch of irritation flashed through him, lightning quick and dramatic. He’d never cared overly much about his sexual partners—in the past it had been about appeasing the cat and sating his urges. With Camryn he wanted real and gritty. Hard and furious, but he needed it to be more than just sex. “It’s real. My shin aches where you kicked me.”

  “Does it?” She laughed hard enough to jiggle her breasts, catch his attention. Like an addictive drug, she called him.

  Sighing, Ry removed his jacket, unlaced his shirt and yanked it over his head. Without taking his gaze from her, he sat to tug off his boots and foot linings. The softened leather clomped to the wooden floor. Camryn flinched and sat up. Ry stilled, ready to pounce. She wasn’t going anywhere. She belonged to him, dammit.

  His.

  Ry ignored the cat’s strident clamor for ownership to watch her closely. He wondered if she were behaving in character, frowned and guessed she probably wasn’t. But the knowledge didn’t stop him. His body pained him—he had to have her now.

  “Every time you touch me all I can think of is sex.” Camryn’s petite frame arched, reminding him of an agitated feline while her voice held pure frustration and a hint of accusation. “I don’t do sex. Not anymore.” This time confusion flared in her eyes.

  Camryn’s bewilderment lightened his tension, bringing a flicker of humor. Part of him wanted to commiserate. It wasn’t as if he liked the out-of-control sensations, the driving urge to claim. Ryman Coppersmith walked alone. He’d never take a permanent woman, not when danger lay in every direction.

  “You have the same effect on me.” Except all he needed was a whiff of her scent to make him crave. He couldn’t understand why her presence pushed him so hard, worse than other women.

  Her brows lifted, the tone of accusation draining away. “So it’s not a drug?”

  “No! I’ve never reacted to another woman like this. Never.”

  “What is it then?” Camryn gritted her teeth and reached out to place a trembling hand on his bare chest. At his harsh rumble, her eyes widened, her expression edging into panic.

  The touch, her touch, seared a hot path straight to his balls. He hissed, his lip curling up in part pain, part denial. “Don’t stop. Please. Touch me again.”

  At his plea her fingers flexed, nails biting into his pectoral muscles. A wash of pleasure hit him. He groaned and pounced, trapping Camryn beneath his larger frame. She trembled but didn’t protest, merely observed him with wide eyes.

  “My mind is screaming at me to move, to run, but I can’t.” Her tongue darted out to moisten the curve of her bottom lip. “I have never wanted any man as much as I want you right now.” A tear leaked from the corner of one eye and trickled toward her ear.

  Ry knew. He knew the torment she experienced because he suffered the same sensual plague. “This…” He swallowed thickly, forcing away the urge to claim. “It doesn’t mean anything. I can’t…” To his great relief, she nodded abruptly.

  “Just until I return to Earth. If that’s what you want.” Her tone and her expressive eyes held a tentative question. Would they return her to Earth?

  “Until you return to Earth,” he confirmed.

  She shivered. “Good. I don’t want a relationship. I’m…not good at them,” she finished with a rush.

  Another tear flowed down her face and this time he surrendered to instinct and leaned over to lap it up with his tongue. The salty taste, laced with her musky scent, pushed harder at his restraint. He trailed kisses across her cheek, leading to her luscious mouth. Ry loosed the tight rein on his control and let the magic flicker freely. Deep inside, the feline purred in anticipation.

  Ry slipped his hand inside the neckline of her
black tunic. Her skin radiated heat. Smooth, it reminded him of the synsilk so beloved by his sisters. His hand slid across the warm curves of her upper breasts. Almost immediately he wanted more. Ry withdrew his hand and grasped the hem of her tunic. He whisked it over her head and reached down to unfasten the tight black trews. Slowly he tugged them down her legs to reveal a pale pink undergarment that matched the bindings around her breasts.

  “Pretty,” he murmured, tracing one finger along the fabric around her breasts. Although the garments screened her secrets, they enticed too, bringing a surge of deeper hunger. A groan lodged in his throat when his finger retraced the same path and dipped briefly beneath the fabric. Hurry. Hurry. The word lodged in his brain like one of Mogen’s chants.

  Ry stood, aware Camryn watched avidly, her attention a massage to his ego. Want, need, pounded him. Urgency. He dragged down his trews, letting his heavy cock spring free. He kicked the garment away and returned to the bed. The feather mattress depressed with his weight, rolling Camryn toward him. She didn’t notice, her gaze on his body, his cock. Under her scrutiny, it lengthened, the head flared and glistening.

  Silence, thick with tension, throbbed inside the bedroom.

  “Do something,” Camryn snapped. “Make it go away.”

  Ry yanked the remaining garments from her body, understanding her exactly. Her bindings confounded him but Camryn flicked a concealed fastening on the front. The fabric fell away, spilling her breasts free until she was completely naked. Beautiful.

  Ry stared, a rough purr erupting, vibrating in his throat. His vision flickered from color to black and white before settling in monochrome gray. Didn’t matter. He leaned over, drawing in her piquant scent. Rich. Seductive. His tongue dragged across her collarbone, rasping over the delicate dips and curves. He nuzzled her neck, giving her a scrape of teeth.

  Camryn squirmed in protest, giggled. “Tickles.”

  “I don’t feel like laughing.” His feline strained, pushing against his tight skin. Sharp canine teeth shoved through his gums.

  The grin faded, eyes meeting his. Her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip. “Don’t laugh then.”

  They stared at one another. Ry moistened a finger and lightly circled the nipple of her right breast. Camryn gasped. Shivered. The scent of her arousal intensified. Ry bit back a feline bark, ran his tongue over his teeth. He shuddered, a full body tremble, and stroked his hand down her body, coming to rest on her smooth hip.

  “Part your legs for me.”

  Camryn splayed her legs without shame, flashing her moist pussy, watching him closely. His patience at an end, he leaned over, slipping his hand between her legs. He’d smelled her arousal but now trailed his fingers over her slick folds, smiling when she sucked in an excited breath. His tongue followed the same path as his fingers, her flavor bursting across his taste buds. Honey and exotic spices. He licked his finger, cleaning it of her juices, watching her the entire time.

  “Ry,” she whispered, eyes pleading him to touch her.

  “Delicious.” Ry rose to kiss her, heart hammering. Their lips brushed. Clung. He tunneled his fingers into her hair, gripping the silky strands, holding her head still while he deepened the kiss. His. The possessive thought rippled through him yet again. Ry embraced it, loving the way she surrendered to him. His tongue thrust past her lips as he lined up his cock and pushed into her sheath. Hot, clinging flesh gripped his shaft, feeling better than anything he could remember.

  Camryn gripped his shoulders, arching up into his stroke and taking him deep. Ry growled his pleasure before dipping his head to thrust his tongue into the corner of her mouth, just as he thrust into her center. Rocking deeper, he squeezed his eyes shut to fully appreciate the warm clasp of her pussy, the hot carnal pleasure of it. Part of him waited for the frenzy to hit, the wildness that always gripped him when he was with a woman. It didn’t arrive. Instead, he breathed in her scent, not understanding but ready to savor the unexpected treat of normal sex, like he used to enjoy before the feline appeared.

  “Wait!” Camryn screeched. She gripped his shoulders and shook him.

  Ry’s eyes flicked open in trepidation. “What?”

  “You’re not wearing a condom. I’m not on the Pill. I can’t have an alien child.”

  The tenseness left his shoulders, even as he registered her fear. “Mogens doses us all with a tonic to prevent offspring and disease. But he suspects I can’t produce children. He thinks I must mate with another of my species.” Ry glanced away, remembering the woman they’d purchased from the slaver. A cat woman like him. Someone had shot and killed her before they could talk. The loss of the opportunity to interact with another of his species ate at him. “I’ve never met others of my race.”

  Camryn frowned. “You’re not just saying that?”

  “I am not dishonest. You won’t have a child with me.”

  “I’m sorry you don’t have family.” Camryn reached up to kiss him.

  “I have family,” Ry snapped, wounded by her sympathy. “The crew is my family, and I am theirs.”

  “Of course,” she whispered, her stroking hands a soothing balm.

  Ry let his irritation fade, concentrating on licking and nibbling at her lips, not wanting to discuss his family situation. The kiss deepened. He thrust his cock deeper, gliding in to the root and stilling with a sigh of pleasure before he withdrew again. Camryn gripped his shoulders, moaning softly. Her hips canted upward, changing the angle. Encouraging him. It felt so good. Her internal muscles tightened around his shaft. He growled, savoring the soft whimpers she didn’t try to contain. Sparks of pleasure frayed his control, heat rampaging through him. Each rapid plunge into Camryn’s tight heat massaged his cock, soothed yet stoked the conflagration building inside him. She felt like a perfect fit, and he didn’t want this loving to end.

  “Faster,” Camryn demanded, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. She arched up into his next stroke. “Yeah, like that.”

  “Fukk.” A fine sheen of sweat covered Ry’s chest, his back. Muscles flexed and rippled when he drove into her. Faster and faster until the wet sound of arousal filled the room. A primal growl. Clawing tension grew in his balls. With a final hard thrust, he exploded, flooding her with hot spurts of come. Ry slumped against her soft body, groaning with the remnants of sensation spiraling through his veins. Their combined scents filled the air, and the cat purred.

  “What about me?” Camryn’s brows rose sharply when he grinned and purred even louder. “Is that all you’re going to do? Purr?”

  Ry chuckled, feeling relaxed and limber. He rolled on his side and tugged at a lock of her silky hair. “No that’s not all I’m going to do. I have more planned. Much more.” Ry grasped one apricot-colored nipple between forefinger and thumb and tugged. “We have all night—plenty of time for us both to purr.”

  Chapter Three

  Talor Coppersmith’s hotel, Ornum.

  Talor had set the trap, knowing Ryman wouldn’t be able to resist. The wager, an amusement thought up when he’d happened to see Ryman at the Ornum spaceport. So smug and confident. Now his brother and renegade crew had returned to Ornum after a mysterious departure. A gloating smile bled across his face, satisfaction bringing a buoyant mood. This time he’d outsmart them. They’d feel safe here on the convict planet. Oh, they’d use caution but the frontier feel of the town lent a certain freedom—a place where anything could and did happen. The law only concerned itself with the convicts under their charge. The free men, the alien visitors and the convicts who had worked out their tenure experienced freedom not possible on most planets.

  This time he’d destroy Ryman totally, grinding him to dust beneath his heels. First though, he’d toy with his brother and make him realize how puny and vulnerable he was to Talor’s wrath.

  A knock sounded on the door to his office. Talor grimaced, anger jumping inside and pressing against his temples. He alleviated the ache by loosening his queue, and his long silver hair settled against h
is shoulders.

  “Come.”

  The door opened gingerly and his aide peeked inside. “Mr. Coppersmith?”

  “Alfredo, I said no interruptions.” Even though the door blocked most of his robust body, Talor caught his aide’s flinch and took pleasure in it. Stupid fool.

  “Ryman Coppersmith has entered the race. You told me you wanted to know when he’d officially entered.”

  “Thank you, Alfredo. You may go now.” The quiet click of the door and the ponderous steps confirmed the man wasn’t attempting to eavesdrop for his reaction. Talor flicked his fingers at the candle sconce on the far wall. The candle wicks flared before spluttering out.

  A pithy curse emerged at yet another example of his faltering magic. With a deep breath, he centered his mind and tried again. This time the flames burned bright and true.

  He leaned back in his chair before jumping restlessly to his feet. He stalked to a sideboard and poured a goblet of plummet wine before returning to his seat. Once seated, he twirled the golden liquid in the goblet, warming it with his hands. The first part of his plan had gone according to expectations. Talor had known Ryman couldn’t resist besting him on neutral territory. During his sporadic visits to Ibrox, Ryman usually slipped in and out before Talor became aware of his presence. That was the reason he’d made his intentions to enter the race public. He chuckled, pleased with the way his plan had fallen into place.

  Everyone thought he’d entered because he wanted a wife. What would he do with a wife? Oh no. When he won, he wouldn’t marry the common creature. The woman always appeared veiled in public. No one had seen her face since childhood, which indicated disfigurement. The race for her hand in marriage backed up the theory. She was a dog. But depending on her looks, he might take her for his harem or sell her onward.

  Of course a sale might create problems. A pucker creased his brow, but cleared secs later. He’d marry her off to an important statesmen. None of the gentry would take her to wife but a statesman would since marriage meant advancement. There—problem solved. When he won, he’d turn the woman over to a suitable candidate and keep the currency part of the prize pot to pay off pressing debts.