Captured Rapture

Spaceport Mercy, Book 3

Lexxie Couper


Wyvernian—an ancient race of dragon shifters that once called the minor planet Mercy and its surrounding space home, in sector Seven A, Fourth Quadrant. Slaughtered by the Galactic Union in an act of brutal genocide over three hundred years ago.

Legend says the ghost of the last Wyvernian haunts the surface of Mercy’s beta moon. A savage man capable of incinerating your soul with just a look. A dragon capable of incinerating your flesh with just a thought…

Ha. Sounds like shyte to me.

Chapter 1

I never knew what hit me. One moment I’m skimming over the surface of Mercy’s beta moon, its dull red ground a blurred carpet below me, its dry, cold air filling my lungs…

The next I’m flat on my back, wrists pinned to the powdery grit, legs spread, with a man roughly six-foot-seven pressing down on me. A cock that felt like a Tallaxion viper—y’know the really big, thick ones they find in the Furthest Jungles—rammed at the junction of my thighs, shoving at the lips of my sex with a brutal force that should have pissed me off but instead made my pulse leap and my mouth turn dry.

I stared up at whoever the fuck held me down, glaring into eyes the color of an angry Earth sky. A lone female on a jet cycle probably looked like an easy target, but for fuck’s sake, I wore the uniform of a Galactic Union Enforcer. What type of idiot, no matter how desperate to claim a woman, jumped a cop? Especially one flying across a moon at almost twice the safe propulsion speed with an Aglaian disruptor on her right hip?

“This kind,” the hulking man who felt like granite murmured, jerking my wrists above my head. He locked them in one large fist and yanked my disruptor from its thigh harness before I could blink.

Or digest the fact he’d answered a question I hadn’t asked aloud.

His mouth crashed down on mine, claiming my lips as his property. I could feel the possession in the fierce and frightening way his tongue invaded my mouth, plunging and plundering. Merciless and savage. Taking what I wasn’t giving. Well, what I was trying not to give.

Truth be known, I was getting aroused. More than aroused. If the man had reached between my spread, kicking legs right at that point, any point actually—like the point when his teeth nipped my bottom lip and sent shards of wicked pain into my center—he would have found the crotch of my uniform damp with musky pleasure.

I’d been kissed many times by Raavelian alpha slaves, by Slessorian Master Pleasurers, but none kissed the way this…this…

Gods. This male kissed.

His mouth fucked mine. There was simply no other way to explain it. His mouth did to my mouth what a cock should do to a cunt. It delved deep, took everything and returned it all back ten-fold. His tongue lashed at the inside of my mouth, whipped at the edges of my teeth, mated with a need so untamed I felt the building pressure low in the pit of my stomach. Gods, I was going to come. From a kiss. A kiss.

My attacker—for what else could I call him?—dragged his lips from mine and scored a scalding line along my clenched jaw to my ear. “From my kiss,” he whispered, as if he’d once again heard my unspoken thoughts, before biting down on my earlobe. Ribbons of wet sensations rippled down my neck, across my chest to my belly. My nipples pinched hard, pushing against the restrictive confines of my uniform, and I whimpered.

Who are you?

The thought hadn’t finished forming in my mind when he pulled away slightly, just enough to feel the cool kiss of the moon’s dry air on my cheeks. His free hand, the one that had sent my favorite disruptor flying who-knows-where, closed tightly over my breast, and I gasped, reveling in the absolute rapture that spiraled through me from the brutal possession.

“I’m the one you’ve always dreamed of.” His fingers pressed into the swell of my breast and I whimpered again. “The one you’ve always feared.”

His cryptic words caressed my senses, as soft as he was hard. His turgid length ground against my sex, trapped beneath a layer of thick, coarse leather but still capable of making my clit feel like it was on fire.

I had to get away.

No, you don’t.

I was drowning in sensations I hadn’t expected to be experiencing on a moon. Yes, in a sex-den; yes, after a session with a masseur, but on the surface of Mercy’s least-important moon? A place more boring than a GU bureaucrat? While I was on recon? What would Fraz do when I was late to report—

“Your partner will be fine.” The mysterious man stared at me with unreadable eyes, the hand on my breast squeezing with languid intent.

I glared at him, trying quite unsuccessfully to ignore the wet licks of tension unfurling in my pussy. I’d had enough of him knowing my thoughts. I had difficulty knowing my thoughts sometimes, it was bloody annoying having a complete stranger, no matter how arousing, do a better job of it than me. “Will you stop doing that?”

A very evil, very sexy grin pulled at lips I knew would send a poor simple GU Enforcer to the Ninth Heaven. “No.”

I ground my teeth. Just as he ground his cock to my sex again.

“There is nothing you can do to stop what is to come, Raina Mynn.”

Hearing my name in that deep rumble made my pulse leap into frantic flight. That, and the slow way he rolled his hips higher, letting me feel his long, solid, thick erection stroke from base to tip over my cunt. Gods, if that was to come, I was in danger.

“Not danger. It is your destiny.”


The word sent a chill straight into my gut and I stiffened. When a strange man grabs you on a terraformed moon, makes your body reacts in ways it shouldn’t, sticks his tongue down your throat and his cock against your cunt, and then utters the word “destiny,” you know you’re in trouble.

Shite. He was a zealot. But for whom? Which deity does he

“I worship no deity.”

I bit back a sharp growl. For fuck’s sake, he was finishing my thoughts now.

I stared up at him, too aware of the way his fingers ground my wrists together, too aware of the way his massive weight pinned me to the ground. Way too aware of the massive shaft between my thighs that seemed to be promising something I shouldn’t want but did all the same. “Well then,” I snarled, trying to shift my cunt away from his dick. “Who friggin’ decided being trapped under you was my destiny?”

“I did.”

His smile stretched wider. Moved on from being sexy to fuckable. Yes, he had a fuckable smile. It was that horny. That still didn’t mean I wasn’t going to fight the bastard off. When it came to my partners, destiny didn’t stand a chance. I came. I fucked. I went. No preordained spiritual nutjob was playing matchmaker with me. I liked my sex one way. No strings. No strings meant no pain.

Well, not the kind of pain that afflicts the heart. Other kinds of pain…slapping-the-ass-cheeks kind of pain, biting-the-nipples kind of pain…those pains were—

Shite! What the fuck was I going on about?

Destiny. The weirdo had uttered the word “destiny”. I’m out of here.

Now, if only I could make both the weirdo and my body listen.

Another chuckle rumbled low in his broad, muscled chest. The guy must have bench-pressed R42 androids in his spare time. “I must admit…” He laughed, and my pussy squeezed tight at the sound. Gods, I was in trouble. “I didn’t foresee how argumentative you’d be.”

He dragged the pad of his thumb over my nipple and the annoying little nub of flesh puckered instantly with rock-hard appreciation. A gasp burst from my lips and before I could stop myself, I arched my back, thrusting my breasts upward.

He chuckled again, the sound sending vibrations through his body, making his cock jerk in little spasms against my spread and thoroughly wet sex. “This I did see.” He teased my nipple again, the coarse material of my vest doing nothing to stop the sensations his arrogant touch created. “This I saw many, many times.”

He captured the traitorous, distended tip between thumb and forefinger, rolling it gently. I gasped again, biting my bottom lip too late to stop the soft inhalation. Gods, had I thought I was going to come earlier? My sex felt ready to erupt. How could he do this to me?

I glared at him, wishing him dead. And yet at the same time, something began to bloom in the pit of my belly. Something like…

“You are remembering.” His voice sent a fresh wave of warm vibrations through my body. His smile—still all too fuckable—turned smug. “Your dreams. Your nightmares. The one you lust for, long for, yet the one you fear all the same.”

His words stroked my senses, and an echo of images flashed through my mind…

A man, this man, locking my wrists in io-cuffs, lifting them above my head until I stood naked before him, arms stretched high, breasts thrust forward, my juices dribbling down the insides of my thighs.

Cold terror sliced through me and I sucked in a sharp breath. The dream. One of many. Too many to number. Always the same man, always the same situation.

Me, captured. Bound. Fucked.

Every time, I woke from it screaming. Every time, I felt the ghost of my orgasm still shuddering in my cunt. My worst nightmare. My greatest fantasy. Forced submission.

For the first time since he’d knocked me from my jet cycle and threw away my weapon, I truly struggled to escape him. I had to. If I didn’t, every one of my dreams would become reality. Of that I had little doubt. “Get. The fuck. Off. Me!”

He pinched my nipple. Hard. “No.”

Base pleasure surged into my core. I writhed, desperate to buck him off me. All I achieved was grinding my pussy harder to his cock.

“As you want it to be,” he whispered, his hand pressing my breast flat to my chest. He squeezed his fingers and hot licks of pleasure shot deep into the center of my sex. “As I will do for the rest of your life.”

That was the last straw. His arrogance was going to drive me crazy—or make me come.

I whipped my legs up, locked them around his hips and slammed them back to the ground, taking him along. It was enough to jerk him partially off my body. Enough to take him by surprise.

I scrambled backward, kicking out with my right foot as I moved. My booted heel struck him in the jaw, and for a split second I swore his dark-brown skin shimmered with pearlescent gold light. Those piercing gray eyes of his flashed brilliant green, a hiss unlike any I’d heard from a humanoid tore from his throat, and before I could change my mind I kicked him again. Square in the nose.

There was a crunch. There was blood, but I didn’t give a rat’s ass. With the phenomenal agility that had seen me finish at the top of my hand-to-hand combat class at the academy, I flipped myself onto my hands and knees and launched from the ground.

I ran across the craggy moon’s surface at a dead sprint, my heart hammering, my sex still pulsing. My nipples ached, hard with lustful desire, but I shut out their insistent want. My body didn’t have a fucking clue what it wanted. I had to get away.

Frantic, I scanned the desolate terrain around me. Where the fuck was my jet cycle? The thing was programmed to come to a complete halt once connection with its rider was broken. The second the lunatic knocked me from its seat it should have ceased momentum, hovering motionless in the exact spot my ass left its bio-tuned seat.

A low growl from behind made my heart leap faster. Shite, he was coming after me.

I didn’t risk looking over my shoulder. Where the flying fuck was my jet cycle?

Bright light glinted off something metallic to my right and I changed direction, my heels skidding with chaotic traction in the coarse red grains beneath my feet. There it was.

Another growl flayed my back. Closer. Louder. A shiver raced through me. My pussy pulsed. For a split second the insane urge to stop running flooded through me. Stop running, let my pursuer leap on me, slam me to the ground, rip my clothes from my body and bury his shaft into my willing, sodden sex.

I stumbled. My sprint faltered.

What the fuck are you doing, Raina? Run! Get away!

The frantic scream sliced through my head and, my blood roaring in my ears, I burst forward. My jet cycle was but five feet away. Five never-ending, slow-motion, gods-cursed feet. I ran.

Four feet. Three. Two.

Fingers scraped my shoulder. Strong, determined fingers that would make me moan with capitulation.

Mine to fuck. Mine to claim. Mine to—

“Goddamn it, get out of my head!”

I heard a chuckle I swear sounded like “no” and then I reached my jet cycle and slapped my palm against its steel seat. I launched myself into an insanely impressive cartwheel over its stationary balk and—mid-arc—snatched my molecular disruptor from its holster fixed to the cycle’s fuel tank.

My feet hit the ground in a cloud of choking red dust, blinding me for the split second it took me to raise my weapon, the disruptor leveled on his hard, way-too-impressive chest.

Except he wasn’t there.

“What the fuck?” I frowned, jerking my stare around the empty terrain. Not a sign of him. Not even a second set of footprints in the moon’s coarse surface.

A tingle raced up my spine and I gripped my disintegrator tighter. Where in all the holy hells did he go? And why am I disappointed?

“Enforcer Mynn, for the fifth fucking time, what the fuck are you doing? Repeat, what the fuck are you doing? I’m beginning to worry here. What’s your location? Your bio signs are going fucking crazy, Mynn. Answer the fucking com-unit. Repeat, answer the com-unit!”

I jumped, the sound of my partner’s raspy growl startling me more than it should. Scowling, I smacked the com-link activator on my jet cycle’s dash, still scanning the eerie terrain for any sign of my attacker. “I’m here, Fraz,” I said. “Stop stressing. I’m okay. Just got…distracted.” An itch at the back of my neck made me spin, the sight of endless red emptiness making my stomach churn. I needed to get a grip.

“Well, if you’ve finished fucking around on the cold side…” Fraz grumbled through the com-link, and I could practically see his scaly, ugly face wrinkling with impatience. “I’ve done the eastern sweep and want to get back to Mercy. There’s no sign of life out here. I don’t know what the commander was thinking, sending us out to this ass-end lump of rock in the first place.”

I climbed astride my jet cycle, not relaxing my grip on my disintegrator one iota. The second my ass connected with the hover-cycle’s seat, the propulsion engine activated, sending a deep thrumming vibration into the damp junction of my spread thighs, and I gasped. Not at the sensation itself, but at the instant memory of my attacker.

Torr. In your dreams, his name is Torr.

Gods, Raina, get out of here now, before you go looking for the psycho.

The thoroughly enticing and hideously unnerving thought spurred me into action. As did the persistent tingle up and down my spine that told me beyond doubt, the man was watching me. I shoved my disintegrator into its holster, gunned the jet cycle’s throttle and shot forward, flying across the moon’s dead surface as fast as the transport’s engineering would let me.

The desolate red landscape became a desolate red blur, the dry, frigid air blasting my face, lashing through my hair in violent tugs that for some reason made me think of my attacker again.

Stop. Go back.

I ground my teeth, denying my body’s wanton, traitorous command. There was no way in all the hells I was going back. No matter what my commander wanted, I wasn’t stepping foot on this—what did Fraz call it?—”ass-end lump of rock” ever again.

My sex throbbed with angry regret and I shifted on the jet cycle, pressing the still pleasure-swollen folds of my pussy to its hard, cold seat. Why was I still horny? What the fuck was wrong with me?

Destiny. Mine to fuck. Mine to claim. Mine to—

“No.” I slammed a mental door on the surreal memory as I squeezed even more speed out of my jet cycle. “A whole friggin’ bag of no.”

I threw the transport into a tight right turn and headed for my rendezvous point with Fraz, crouching low behind the windshield, tense and alert. Ready to be pounced on again.

Ready to be taken and used and pleasured again no matter how much I told myself I wasn’t.

Ready to be fucked and claimed. Wanting to be fucked and claimed.

Gods. I was insane.

Chapter 2

Fraz took one look at me as I climbed off my jet cycle and he burst out laughing. A laughing Bo’aa is not a pretty sight. They are an ugly, serpentine race of unsavory bastards with no lips, no eyelids, slitted nostrils and razor-sharp teeth that look as if they could tear the hide from a Tallaxion mammoth without breaking a sweat.

Bo’aas didn’t sweat. They made other species sweat.

It was a fairly well-known fact the Galactic Union had spent considerable credits trying to wipe the entire Bo’aa race out of the galaxies. It was also a well-known fact they’d pissed off the Bo’aas so much that if a Bo’aa came face-to-face with a Union official, the official was sent back to the GU Premier in a large collection of small containers. You didn’t piss off a Bo’aa unless you wanted to end up dead and in pieces.

Fraz was a prime example of his species. What he was doing as a GU Enforcer, I didn’t know, but I thanked the old gods every day he was on my side. I’d never tell him of course, but I was glad he was my partner, and not just because he scared the shit out of just about everyone. He always had my back, no matter how dangerous or messed-up the situation, and for a girl who grew up being tossed from one orphanage to another, having someone watch your back was pretty fucking incredible

Of course, that didn’t mean I wouldn’t throw him a filthy look when he was being a dick, like he was now. The last thing I needed was Fraz laughing at me. Geez, after everything I’d been through. “Shut the fuck up, Fraz,” I grunted, letting him see my best menacing glare. I have a very good menacing glare. It comes in handy a lot.

Fraz, however, just laughed again, his slitted green eyes practically gleaming with mirth. “I don’t know what you were doing out there, Mynn, but you look like you had an argument with the ground and came off second best.”

Taking a page from his book, I bared my teeth. Again, not a particularly wise thing to do. Bared teeth meant one of two things to a Bo’aa—you wanted to fight them or you wanted to fuck them. I didn’t want to do either.

No, you want to fuck the lunatic weirdo from—

I shut the thought down with a sharp snort and stormed away. It would take us approximately half an hour to get back up to Port Mercy. I wanted a shower.

“Wait wait wait wait.” Fraz laughed behind me and I turned to glare at him again. Did I mention he was ugly? And annoying? Loyal, sure, but at times really annoying. And ugly all the time. “You can’t just walk away looking the way you do and not expect me to demand a report.” A grin pulled at his lipless mouth and his green eyes glinted. “Don’t make me pull rank on you, Enforcer Mynn.”

I rolled my eyes. You’ve got to be kidding me. “Rank? Friggin’ alphabet, you mean. We graduated from the academy at the same time, from the same class, with the same scores. The only reason you received your bars before me is because your last name is M’x.”

I fisted my hands on my hips and glared at him some more, trying not to grin. “What the hell kind of name is that for a Bo’aa anyway? M’x?”

Fraz smirked, a sheen rippling over his brilliant orange scales. “The best kind. Now give me your report or I’ll kick your ass all the way back to the spaceport.”

Fraz beat me once in a training session of te’kw d, a thoroughly violent and brutal fighting style they teach at the academy, and he’d never let me live it down. One day soon I was going to have to do something about that, but not right now. Right now I wanted to get the smell of the dead moon off my skin. Right now I wanted to wash away every second I’d spent on its desolate surface. Especially the seconds spent pinned between it and the madman who’d declared me his destiny.


A tight, squirming knot of heat suddenly filled the pit of my belly and I groaned. Shyte, why did I have to go and think about that lunatic again?

Again? Had I really stopped? I bit back another groan. Fuck.

Fraz cocked his head, his eyes narrowing. “You want to tell me anything, partner?” His tongue flicked out, tasting the air, and I suppressed the urge to fidget. Tasting the air wasn’t bullshit. Bo’aas have freaky senses. “Why do you smell like you’ve been having sex?”

Ah, hell. “Yeah.” I gave him a duh-are-you-stupid look. “I had sex. I found this all-male brothel out on the cold side and thought, shite, I haven’t had any for a while, may as well take the tension off while I’m out here.”

Fraz flicked out his tongue again and shook his head. “Nope. You definitely smell of sex. The air tastes of your musk, emanating from between your legs, and I can detect elevated levels of—”

My face burst into mortified heat and I slammed my hands over my ears. “Oh my God, Fraz!” I yelped, staring at him. “Shut up. That is wrong. Just plain wrong.”

He grinned at me. “Just telling it like it is, partner. Whatever you were doing while off your jet cycle, it wasn’t GU work—and you were enjoying it.”

I threw up my hands and turned away. “Get a life,” I tossed out as I rushed across our short-range shuttle’s cycle bay. “Better yet, get a new tongue. The one you have is faulty.”

“Bo’aa tongue knows all, Raina Mynn,” Fraz called out, and I ground my teeth not only at the elated mirth in his voice but the horrible, horrible truth in his words. The pit of my belly churned. My face felt hot. My friggin’ pulse pounded in my neck.

Enjoying it.

Yeah, Fraz was right. I had been enjoying it. Whoever my weirdo on Mercy’s beta moon was, whatever insane ideas he had about me being his destiny, what he’d been doing to me had felt goddamn wonderful. I may have fought the bastard off, but I’d never experienced anything as intensely delicious as the dominating force of his lust. The arrogant power of his certainty.

The rightness of his touch.

I stumbled to a halt. Had I just thought that? My mouth went dry and I ran my hands—my trembling hands; what was wrong with me?—up and down my arms.

No. I shook my head and continued through the shuttle, heading for my quarters and my shower cubicle. I was overworked and overtired. Fraz and I had been tracking an escaped spice dealer for the last two months. We’d had no down time. That’s why I was thinking Tall, Dark and Delusional was the man of my most secretive fantasies. Our commander had sent us to Spaceport Mercy based on a tip from some inside source, and since we’d arrived we’d done nothing but follow false leads and dodge Port security.

Passing ourselves off as salvagers meant Fraz and I fit right in with the spaceport’s scum and villainy, but something about us seemed to put Commander Kassandra Scott on edge. I personally blamed Fraz. He’d picked a fight with the head bouncer at The Steam, he’d insulted the little spaceport’s reporter, Itia Something-or-other, he’d punched one of the Echo brothers—the angriest one, I think—and kept kicking at every member of the Felinia race he encountered.

I have pointed out Bo’aas are unsavory bastards, haven’t I? And that I’m glad Fraz is on my side?

Yep. Just overworked. If the man with the wide shoulders, impressive bulge and unsubtle propositioning skills had tackled me any other time, I would have torn his arms from his body and shoved them so far up his backside he would have needed a flashlight to pick his nails.

See? I can be unsavory too, when I need to be.

Stomping into my quarters, I stripped off my clothes, pulled the band from my hair and stepped into my shower cubicle. Fraz could pilot the skip back to Port Mercy on his own. That’s what he got for laughing at me. Oh, and for making me feel embarrassed. I never, ever wanted to hear the words “your musk” come from his mouth again. Eww.

I activated the water and stood motionless under the icy stream, letting it run over my body, my breasts, between my legs. It licked at me with cold thirst and my nipples pinched tight, something about the wet caress making my heart thump harder.

I closed my eyes, my hands pressed flat to the metal wall before me. The feel of the water running over the folds of my pussy, the button of my clit, drew a ragged breath from deep within my chest. I pressed my thighs together and the gentle pressure on my clit sent a warm finger of pleasure into my core.

I whimpered, unable to stop my right hand from leaving the wall and slipping between my wet thighs.

Mine to fuck. Mine to claim. Mine to—

I slid the tip of my finger over my clit, hissing at the sharp and eager heat blossoming in my pussy at the contact.

“Oh.” I pressed my finger harder and, before I knew what I was thinking, an image of the man from the moon—Torr—filled my head.

My body reacted. Instantly and powerfully.

My pussy clenched viciously, gripping a cock that wasn’t there. My nipples grew harder, so hard they ached, and I knew, deep down inside where my unspoken fantasies lie waiting for night, that the only cure for that ache was Torr’s touch. His fingers, his lips, his tongue, his teeth.

I turned in the small cubicle. Leaned against the icy metal wall and closed my left hand over my left breast. But it was his hand I felt. His hand I hungered for. Eyes closed, lips parted, my body hot and flushed despite the chilly temperature of the shower, I let my mind tell me it was Torr’s hand massaging my breast. Torr’s fingers rolling over my clit…

He sank his fingers deeper into my sex and I moaned, grinding my clit against his exquisite invasion. He dipped in another finger, wriggling them both inside me, stroking the spot that turned my ragged breaths to shallow panting.

He pulled at my nipple, tweaked it, dragged his thumb over its distended tip, and I moaned again, thrusting my hips higher. Gods! Why was I doing this?

Mine to fuck. Mine to claim. Mine to—

The memory of his thought pushed me higher. My pussy squeezed the fingers invading it. Fingers I knew were mine but wanted to be his.

Mine to fuck.

I plunged them into my wet heat. Wriggled them. Scissored them.

Mine to claim.

I squeezed my breast and tortured my nipple, letting my mind tell me it was him.

Mine to—

I rode my hand, mauled my breast and cried out raw words that made no sense when I came, my orgasm as sharp and brutal as the empty longing I felt for a man I believed a lunatic.

* * * *

I stormed through Port Mercy. There’s no other word for it, I’m afraid. I was pissed off and my walk showed it. People leapt out of my way—and by people, I mean humanoids, insectoids, slitheroids, sentient gaseous mistoids and just about any other “oid” you can name. If a species existed in the known galaxies, at least one of its kind was here on Mercy, usually partaking in something criminal and unsavory. Fraz fit right in.

Speaking of my partner, he strolled along beside me, baring his teeth at the fake Slessorian whores who lined Blowjob Alley, letting everyone see the long Bo’aa blade he wore under his sleeveless jacket, and generally exuding all-round menace. People leapt out of Fraz’s way too.

“You going to tell me yet?” he asked, eyeing one particularly lush Slessorian wannabe who eyed him back.

I refused to look at him. “No.”

“Care to explain why you smelled more like sex after your shower, then?”

I suppressed the urge to scream. And the urge to punch Fraz’s lights out. “Fuck off,” I grunted instead.

He laughed. People around us cowered away. They usually do.

We continued making our way through the spaceport, heading for Steam. I needed a drink. God knows what Fraz needed, but I suspected it was another crack at the head bouncer. Sometimes I think Fraz has a death wish. Maybe that was another reason I liked him so much, another reason we suited each other as partners—we were equally unhinged.

The bar was as crowded as usual, and as usual the crowd parted somewhat as Fraz pushed his way through it. He really did come in handy at times, especially when I wanted something fast—like a shot of Bundaberg Black Label Rum. Drink in hand, I turned and leaned against the bar, running my gaze over the writhing mass crammed into the small space before me. Up on the stage, a Felinia belted out a New Earth tune, swiveling her furry hips in such a provocative way I almost wanted to blush.

Or fuck.

I frowned. Now where the hell did that thought come from?

“The commander’s going to be pissed,” Fraz muttered in my left ear, and I jumped a little. “You can tell him the moon was a big fat waste of time. There’ve been no signs of any spice deals going down.”

“What happened to rank?” With a small grin, I took a sip of my rum. Shite, my hand was trembling. What the fuck was my hand doing trembling?

Storm-cloud eyes flashed through my head, followed by tension in my sex.

I bit back a curse and sculled my booze.

The liquor burned its way into my belly and I turned back to the bar, indicating to the woman behind it I wanted another shot. I needed to get a grip. I couldn’t do my job if I was constantly thinking about some maniac who kissed like a demon and—

My sex constricted in a powerful pulse, so powerful I had to cling to the bar. There and gone in a blink.

I threw back my head and swallowed my second rum in one mouthful.

I was in trouble.

I think I’ve mentioned before I have a no-strings, no-pain rule when it comes to sex. There’s a reason for this. At the tender age of two New Earth years (maybe more, maybe less, no one really knows), I was found cowering on the steps of a sex den on the boundaries of GU space by a Slessorian pleasurer.

I spent my youth dumped from one crappy Union orphanage to another. I grew up with no sense of belonging, or with any real concept of worth, always yearning for a connection of some kind. So many times, the stupid adolescent girl I became got her stupid adolescent heart broken. From the moment my boobs grew too big to hide, I latched myself onto the biggest, strongest boys I could find, seeking some semblance of strength and protection. Craving the security I was sure I’d find in their arms. Inevitably, they’d convince me that security could be found between their legs.

Stupid little Raina Mynn, used and abused and laughed at—just a pathetic GU reject with no history, no planet and no clue.

I got a clue quickly. And yet here I was, getting all hot and horny over a nutjob lurking about on a dead moon on the very reaches of known space? Trouble.

I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and bit back a growl. The head bouncer—a hulking-great hunk of a man called Corvan Jareth who seemed to exude menace—had caught sight of us. Or more to the point, caught sight of Fraz. Round two was about to begin.

I pushed away from the bar before Jareth reached us. “I’m outta here.”

I’m sure you’re wondering why I wasn’t staying to watch my partner’s back, but trust me, Fraz’s back is fine—and nasty. And poisonous. Safety tip? Don’t chase after a Bo’aa unless you want lots of pain.

I flicked the bouncer a quick look, a tiny part of my mind wondering if Fraz had bitten off more than he could chew this time—Jareth looked positively lethal—and high-tailed it out of Steam. I needed to sleep.

The usual catcalls and promises of sexual heaven accompanied me as I walked back through Blowjob Alley. I tried to keep my stare front and center, but before I knew it I was studying the performances of the hookers, the pit of my belly flip-flopping, my pussy throbbing for a mouth and tongue I’d felt more than once in my dreams.

Dreams. Shite. I couldn’t sleep. If I slept, I’d only find myself being dominated again and again by the madman from the moon.

Stumbling to a halt, I scrunched my face and dragged my hands through my hair. What was I going to do?

Confront him.

The way-too alluring thought whispered through my head and my pussy throbbed some more. I felt the crotch of my trousers grow damp and bit back a growl.

What the fuck was wrong with me? How could I be acting like this? How could one man, one seriously fucked-up man, be affecting me so badly? I don’t care how freakin’ sexy he was, how goddamn gorgeous and intense and powerful, he was not getting under my skin. I’d had enough.

Running my glare along the length of fake Slessorian, cheap whores and high-priced pleasurers in their individual booths, I found what I was looking for. Stomping up to the naked Urid’ii pro, I fixed him with a flat stare. “Do you do women?”

Brilliant violet eyes skimmed over me from head to toe and back again and the Urid’ii’s perfect lips curled into a wide smile. “For you, little one,” he said, his voice deeper than thunder. “I do.”

I swiped my credit chip, not even bothering to ask how much. If needed, I’d pass it off as a work expense. “Make it good,” I snapped, stepping into the Urid’ii’s open booth. “Bloody good.”

The Urid’ii touched the tip of his tongue to his teeth, a glint of light flickering in his eyes. “Trying to forget someone?”

I tore open my trousers, uncaring of the entirely exposed, public situation. “Shut up and make me come.”

He grinned, placing his hands on my hips as he lowered himself to his knees. “Yes, little one.” He inched my trousers down, revealing my ass to all and sundry on Blowjob Alley. The cool artificial air chilled my flushed skin and my nipples pinched into hard pebbles, rubbing against the firm rubber of my vest. “I will destroy the memory of the one you wish to forget, so completely you will never think of him again.”

Oh God, if only that was possible.

The grim thought whispered through my head a second before the Urid’ii parted my thighs with his hands and plunged his tongue into my folds.

And a second after that, all I could think about was the man on the moon between my legs, fucking me with his tongue.

I was so in trouble.


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