SERIANA FOUND

By

Marie Harte

© copyright January 2006, Marie Harte

Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright January 2006

New Concepts Publishing

Lake Park, GA 31636

www.newconceptspublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.

Chapter One

As if surviving illegal piracy, scientific experiments gone awry, and the slave trade weren’t enough, Seriana Blue now had to evade yet another smuggler asking too many questions.

After so much planet hopping, she thought she’d found the perfect spot here on Aflera, a vacationer’s paradise at the height of tourist season. An upscale resort, a new disguise, and a new job as an independent cook--what could be more perfect? It had been an ideal spot to hide from trouble, until this past week.

Damn her father, and damn Abjon Afier!

“You look an awful lot like the woman on this vidscreen.” The wiry man blinked at her from his good eye, studying the image on his palm-sized vidscreen as he compared it to her clever if fading disguise.

Looking down at the image of herself only a year ago, she felt as if she’d matured well past the age of twenty-six. Her head ached, her eyes swam with tears, and her hands, once smooth and creamy, were now cracked and dry from rinsing too many meal trays.

Yet she wouldn’t trade a day of any of it.

Speaking slowly in Afleran, she angled closer to the persistent smuggler and thrust her bosomy chest toward him, hoping the sight of her padded flesh would distract him. She breathed a small sigh of relief when it did.

“Like a touch, would ya?” she asked coyly, leaning closer. Her breasts brushed his chest and she heard him swallow greedily. He drew a dirtied hand across her chest, lingering over the pert, crimson nipples peaking over the ragged neckline of the dress she wore. Grinning broadly and profoundly grateful to Racnar’s synthetic prosthetics, she winked. “How can you think to compare this prized flesh,” she paused to fondle her left breast, “to that scrawny thing on your vid?”

The man licked his lips and shook his head, no longer looking at his vidscreen. With a ragged laugh, she took his hand from her breasts and put it back at his side.

“I’m not sure why you’re looking for this girl, but it can’t be good now, can it?” What new story had Abjon concocted to justify his pursuit?

“Ah.” He shifted, adjusting his trousers with a less than circumspect movement. “All I know is the girl is worth a lot of money, scrawny or no.” He smiled, his teeth as black as his boots. “Not that I don’t agree she could use more flesh, to look more like you.”

Seriana stifled a snort. She currently looked as though she weighed twice her actual bodyweight, and in the old picture he carried she’d sported her share of curves. “Such flattery will get you a fasun pie, sure as I can swim.”

He blushed with pleasure, stammered a few more compliments, then left carrying a fasun pie in one hand, his vidscreen in the other. The minute he turned the corner from her small cookery she sagged against the wall.

Hell. This made four seekers in less than a week. She would have to move again. At this rate she’d soon be facing Abjon, and nothing could penetrate his discerning, flame-filled gaze.

Her stomach tightened as she thought of him, and she frowned as she returned to her latest recipe for spiced mraun fish. She pounded the thick fillet as she recalled the mountain of muscle chasing after her for the past year. If she were honest with herself, she’d admit it had been a lot longer than a mere year.

From the first moment she’d met the stubbornly handsome Ragga native, she’d felt something in her heart sigh. A mental click, then an emotional tug of war had followed as she realized she felt something for a man as steeped in illegal activities as her father.

But his face, by Aphra’s breast, what beauty. He looked as if an Eyran geneticist had created male perfection and placed it atop a body made for war. Hailing from Ragga, a planet known for its inhumanly strong inhabitants, Abjon possessed above-average strength for even one of his race. Instead of the overly muscular build one would expect, however, he was tall and lean, his body corded with muscle, not an ounce of fat to be seen.

His face should have been as hard, as unforgiving. But his brilliant, red-orange eyes gave him a warmth at odds with his frame. High cheekbones, a square chin and chiseled nose all spoke of pleasurer ancestry. Somewhere within his background, his Ragga forefathers must have dallied with the System’s most striking people, the Nebites, for his lips were full, sensual and begging to be kissed.

Framing such masculine beauty, thick, lustrous black hair cut in shaggy sweeps across his shoulders shone under the bright, harsh sun. Longer than a true Ragga warrior’s but shorter than the usual pirate’s, Abjon’s hair lay straight save for the single braid at his temple. She’d always wondered why he wore the braid but never had the courage to ask.

Courage. She huffed and turned the fish over to pound some more. It wasn’t courage so much as self-preservation that made her avoid Abjon. He’d made it quite clear that he wanted her. Just thinking about his fiery sensuality caused her to shiver. Years of his casual flirting and intimate comments should have warned her he wouldn’t give up until he’d bedded her.

Perhaps I would’ve been better off spreading my legs in welcome a year ago instead of running. Much as the thought sent a river of heat through her, she quickly dismissed the notion with a sigh. If only it could have been that easy. But she had always known intimacy with Abjon would forever change her. The very characteristics that made him a leader in the criminal underworld also made him a virtually unstoppable threat. He was too strong, too smart, too controlling.

Rover Blue, another strong, smart and controlling man, truly loved her, and for all his faults, tried to do right by her. Though rarely home and usually engaged in one illicit adventure or another, he spent as much time with her as he was able. His love, tainted by guilt, allowed her the latitude to come and go as she pleased, easing her path to escape.

Abjon would never be so lax. She knew him well, had studied him for years. Behind that sensual face, cunning intelligence and corded strength lay a barbaric warrior who protected what he thought his.

Seriana had escaped her father, but she’d never escape Abjon if he decided to keep her. And if they made love, she knew without a doubt she’d never be free again. Even if she found a chance to physically escape, the memories of his sultry possession would haunt her forever, binding her to the notorious pirate more tightly than Mornian steel.

Frowning, she pounded the fish under her hands. Her integrity made her proud to be Seriana Blue, despite her last name. In the face of her father’s illegal activities, she had adhered to an honest way of life, working on the few legal ventures her father owned. But it was a constant struggle to remain firm in her convictions surrounded by criminals, men and women she thought of as family.

Were she to make love to Abjon, to be a part of a man so incredibly dominant, bound by his fiery sensuality and overwhelming power, she would never be able to preserve that core of integrity that allowed her to live with quiet dignity.

Sighing with mixed regret, that she would never know the sensual pleasures she guiltily dreamed of, she returned to the reality of her situation. Finishing her dish, she seasoned the fish and rolled it around a layer of crushed coment seed. That done, she stoked the fire of her clay oven and set the heating timer.

“Stop thinking about him,” she warned herself. “Worry about your newest client. If he likes this, you’ve got a cool thousand beks waiting you.” Not to mention the possibility of a side job, one that would take her off the main island and away from off-planet traffic. Warming to the idea, she cleaned her counters and set her cookery to rights before preparing the final dish sure to please Lord Picky, as she thought of him.

She readied his meal and would normally have programmed the tray to take it to him, were he like her other clients. Lord Picky, however, had a reputation for being difficult, and he had enough currency to ensure personalized service.

Shrugging, she ventured into the small room at the rear of the cookery that she used as a living space and straightened her appearance in the mirror.

Ah well, the nose would have to go first thing tomorrow. In the gathering dark, Lord Picky wouldn’t notice the exaggerated droop of the left nostril, not that he’d venture onto the main veranda for dining. He had yet to leave his exorbitantly priced room in the resort. As such, she’d never actually seen him, only his servant Morey. And when Morey answered the door, he typically gave her no more than a disdainful glance before collecting his master’s meal tray.

She grinned into the reflecting screen. She really did look nothing like herself. Her eyes were no longer lavender, but a deep murky brown. Her blue-black hair now looked brittle and sandy brown thanks to a hair falsifier. The artificial flesh coating the visible parts of her body gave her a sallow appearance. The padded bosom, buttocks and stomach ruffs she wore emphasized her bulkiness, as did the stodgy island clothing usually worn during the cooler months. Regrettably, she had to show more skin than she felt comfortable with, but wearing Racnar’s false flesh, she had little worry of being discovered.

She hoped.

Finished patting herself into place, she heaved her massive breasts, tucked her pointed nipples back below her plunging neckline and assumed the slow gait that marked her current persona, that of Rabel Minatta--gourmet chef to the Colassa, planet Aflera’s most popular resort.

Humming under her breath, she paused when she reached Lord Picky’s suite. Of course he had the highest room with the largest bek count. Only the best for Lord Picky. For him, she’d been removed from servicing all other guests to cater to his every food craving. Whatever. So long as he liked her meals, she was happy. Now how to get Morey to nudge the man into giving her a shot on his private island…

She buzzed the door and waited for an interminably long time. Frowning, she buzzed again.

Morey opened the door looking ragged. His shirttails were untucked from wrinkled trousers, his slicked hair ruffled and his usually snotty demeanor was almost, friendly?

“Oh good, it’s Rabel, my lord,” he called over his shoulder. He turned back to her with a grin, and she was surprised to note Morey to be much younger than he’d earlier seemed. In fact, with his hair like that he looked almost familiar.

At her stare his mirth faded, and he resumed the cool, aloof manner she’d been dealing with for the past two weeks.

“The meal tray?” she reminded, pushing the floating cart toward him.

“Follow me.”

She gaped as he turned and walked into the suite. Never before had she been invited to enter. She normally left the tray with Morey and picked it up when she delivered the next meal. Uncertain, she followed slowly, starting when the door slammed behind her.

“Morey, what’s taking so long?” the voice of an elderly man whined.

Breathing a sigh of relief that all was as it should be, she continued after Morey, pausing when he stopped by a door. He turned the knob and waited by the doorframe regally, his nose in the air and his head held high.

“Boor,” she said under her breath as she passed him to enter the dimly lit room. The door closed with a soft nick behind her, but she was unconcerned. She noted an old man sitting up in bed, his form hard to see since the windows were all shuttered closed. Too bad he paid such fees for the view when he didn’t seem to enjoy it. Shrugging to herself, she lifted lids from the dinner plates, the smell of her creations making her mouth water, and arranged his meal. Her stomach grumbled and she tried to remember when she’d last eaten.

Despite her apparent largeness, she had actually shed weight working under the heavy disguise in Aflera’s heat. Too busy to enjoy her own cooking, she’d lost even more weight this past week.

Swallowing past the hunger gnawing her belly, she brought her mind back to the task at hand. When the meal looked perfect upon his serving dish, she glanced up with a smile and politely asked, “Where would you like me to set the tray, my lord?”

“Closer, my dear,” he said feebly.

Narrowing her gaze, she thought she saw him waver. There, it happened again. His body shimmered into an almost transparent state. Sudden unease shot through her, and she took a hasty step back, only to find herself caught by a large hand on her arm.

“Bring it closer, dear,” a hard voice repeated, this time from behind her, and she shuddered at the menace in his tone.

The old man disappeared as bright light illuminated the opulent room. In his place was a silken bed littered with familiar clothing--clothing from home. She swallowed loudly as hot breath met her ear.

Please no, let it be anyone but him . . .

“Ah, my favorite meal,” Abjon Afier growled. “Seriana Blue.”

Chapter Two

Seriana could do no more than blink before she was spun around and pressed against a rock hard chest. She caught a glimpse of blazing eyes and a flat mouth before she was thrown into a whirlwind of desire.

Hard lips descended over hers with enough force to make her gasp. The minute she opened her mouth, his tongue invaded and his touch turned into seduction incarnate. Molding his mouth to hers, he swept the soft petals of her lips with enough heat to make her moan. His arms curled around her frame, bringing her tight against his body.

The padding prevented her from truly feeling him, but the rocking motion of his pelvis told her he more than wanted her.

Seducing her mouth, he began sucking at her tongue, stroking and thrusting until she wanted to melt through the floor. He tasted like ambrosia, heady and addicting and enticing all at once. Knowing it was Abjon but unable to stop herself, she reached for his hair and sighed as she felt the whispery soft strands under her fingertips.

He deepened the kiss and hugged her tighter, making her knees tremble and her loins pool with want. She could feel her undergarments wet with desire, could feel her nipples chafing the padding crushing her sensitivity. She groaned in defeat, that he could make her want him so soon, so easily, when she’d spent the past year running from him, running from this.

He broke the kiss, breathing heavily. “I’ve been waiting a long time to do that.” His voice sounded deeper, more enthralling than she remembered, and she had to blink not to fall under his spell.

His arms encircled her firmly but without pressure. The contrast between his deadly potential and his gentle restraint increased her susceptibility where he was concerned. She found his strength and his control unbearably sexy.

Breathing deeply to still her trembling, she managed a faint if steady voice. “How did you find me?”

He said nothing, merely stared from her hair to her overly large breasts. His smile, when it came, was hard, measuring. “I always find what I’m looking for, didn’t you know that, Seriana?” He sounded cool, his anger in check but there close to the surface.

“Abjon--”

“Say it again, say my name.”

She swallowed against his threatening sensuality. “Abjon. Let me go.”

He ignored her, releasing her enough to peruse her costume. “Take it off.”

She blinked. “What?”

“I said take it off. Do it, or I will.”

Nervously eyeing the bulging arms he crossed over his massive chest, she pondered her options.

“I have no more patience, Seriana,” he said in a low voice, all the more menacing for its quiet. “If you don’t take it off, all of it, right now, I’ll do what I’ve been fantasizing about since you left.” He grabbed her hand and held it to his crotch. His erection was huge and swelling larger. He caught his breath, his eyes glittering with need. “Take it off or I will.”

She snatched her hand away as if burned, ripping off the hair falsifier. She peeled Ractor’s fake skin from her face, chest and arms, not surprised that Abjon’s gaze lingered over her still padded bosom. When she had removed all the fake skin, she moved to the pads under her clothing. His bland nod of encouragement had her gritting her teeth. Much as he loomed over her, she’d never really been afraid of him. Of course, he never used to look at her as if she were a meal he had every intention of devouring whole.

When she had discarded all the padding to the floor, she waited.

“I said all of it.”

“But that is all of it.” She didn’t understand. Did he want her to--

“To your bare skin. And don’t forget the false lenses.”

She gasped. “I’m not going to--”

He reached her in the blink of an eye, his speed as deceptive as his calm. “I told you not to play games.” He ripped her dress right down the middle, leaving her with nothing more than a pair of sheer panties and a thin camisole he quickly discarded.

Frozen, she pressed her legs together and stood under his large hands, extremely conscious of the calluses roughing his palms. Skimming her body, he ran his hands over her hair and down her frame, lingering over her flushed breasts and quivering mound. The heat from his hands made her wet, so wet she could feel the moisture sliding between her folds.

His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. Shoving her legs apart, he cupped her mound, rubbing his fingers through her slick heat, making her blush with embarrassment. He stared deeply into her eyes and frowned. She silently cursed him to deep space, so ready to come she wanted to howl with frustration, and all from his simple touch.

“Take out the eye pieces.” He didn’t remove his hand but kept it still.

Trying very hard not to move against his fingers, not to climax and show ultimate vulnerability to a man like Abjon, she did as he ordered and removed the small disks masking her eye color. “Good,” he murmured and slid his fingers across her nether lips and deeper, working her without mercy.

“What,” she started and gasped, unable to stop the moan from escaping her lips. “No, wait, Abjon,” she keened as his fingers rubbed her throbbing clit. She clutched his biceps and closed her eyes when he stopped.

“Look at me,” he rumbled in a thick voice.

She opened her eyes and stared at him while he threw her into a vortex of need and desire so acute it was painful. He continued to finger her, sliding his thick digits over her clit but slowing before she could reach climax. Then he slipped a finger inside her and her entire body clenched.

“Will you give me what I want?” His finger slid out of her while he waited her response.

She writhed. She tried to hold out. But he rotated his middle finger over her clit, so softly she thought she imagined it. Then he increased the pressure, sliding ever so slowly, and she wanted to scream.

“Please,” she begged, needing to end the unbearable tension spiraling in her body. “Whatever you want.”

He thrust a finger inside her and flicked her ripe nub with his thumb. Her body rocked and she clamped down on his forearms to stop herself from falling as an intense orgasm ripped through her.

His eyes swirled with red fire, the orange depths of his irises changing, flickering to burnished gold as he watched her.

Drugged by the complacency of relief, she was his for the asking. And he knew it. With deliberate patience, he unbuttoned the stays of his trousers until all of him was revealed. His turgid cock bobbed with need, moisture coating the tip, making the dusky copper length glisten in the light.

“Take me in your mouth,” he ordered, his breathing uneven as he grasped the root of his shaft, readying for her.

Surprised by how much she wanted to taste him, Seriana followed him to the bed and watched him sit and spread his legs wide. Kneeling between his thighs, she lowered her mouth to the head of his penis and noticed more fluid seeping from the tip. His reaction shifted the power between them, showed her how much he wanted her touch. And before she tasted him, she glanced up and smiled.

His brows rose in surprise and he opened his mouth to speak, but ended on a groan as she licked him. The look in his eyes made her want to devour him. Touching him, tasting him, had her desire rushing back.

Without breaking eye contact, she lowered her lips over the crown of his penis, sliding over the velvety tip as if savoring a meal. He was large and thick, and putting her mouth over him took some adjustment. But the look on his face was worth it. Pleasured agony stretched his lips taut, made him close his eyes as he strove for control.

Seriana could feel his thighs tremble, and with soft hands she ran her fingers through the curly black hair surrounding his cock. He moaned and surged through her lips, enough to make her close her mouth to prevent further intrusion. The action heightened his desire, for she felt his sack tighten, could feel his balls firm against the base of his shaft.

Using her hand to rub his long cock, she encircled the area not covered by her lips, feathering her touch while she stroked him with her tongue. She greedily engulfed as much of him as she was able. Her clit pulsed with pleasure as she sucked him, and before long he was gripping her hair to control his short, pulsed thrusts. Just deep enough to entice, but not hard enough to hurt her.

“Aphra, but I need to fuck you,” he said on a groan. She sucked harder and cupped his balls, rubbing the velvety skin with light fingers.

His orgasm was gradual but soon built into a fevered rush. He began to come, moaning her name as he spurted in her mouth. Great shots of seed rushed down her throat as she greedily drank every drop.

She continued to milk him, needing to give him pleasure for reasons beyond her understanding. When his climax ended, she released him and tried to regain command of her flaming libido. Once she felt some control, once the desire began to ebb, she glanced up at him.

His face no longer bore any trace of vulnerability. Instead he looked every inch the warrior from Ragga, the infamous pirate bent on plunder, bent on conquest.

He dragged her to her feet and rose, righting his clothing as if she hadn’t just given him ecstasy. “Put on the blue dress.”

Still trying to regroup, she did so. Once she was dressed, he called for Morey.

“Pack up everything and send it to Fidei. Put her clothes and mine in the master suite. You know about the rest.”

Morey nodded, his eyes bright with amusement. “Sure thing, my lord.”

Abjon took Seriana by the arm in a grip meant to punish. Stunned at his sudden mood change, she had to run to keep up with him.

“Where are you taking me?” She tried to sound firm. “You have no right--”

“I have every right! You’re mine, and it’s time I showed you just what that means. What happened in that room is only the beginning.” He smiled, his expression not the least encouraging. “I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop. Then I’m going to fuck you until you beg me not to.”

She fumed. So he meant to manage her with sex? She wanted to curse him, she wanted to rail at him, but she knew the truth as well as he did.

Her running had come to an end, and bemused by her thoughts, she realized a small part of her was glad. Though she’d resented him for the better part of her growing years, she realized something about him called to her on a deeper, more primal level.

Now she had no choice but to deal with the situation. No more excuses. As she stared into his bronzed face, harsh from the sun and the bitter experience of life, she recognized a driving need to know him, inside and out.

The final barrier within her broke as she understood that running away had only heightened her desire and her feelings for the warrior dragging her through paradise.

Chapter Three

Abjon stared at Seriana without blinking, drinking in her presence like the finest of wines as the small watercraft sped over the rose-colored waves of the Phaernean Sea.

For two of the longest weeks of his life, he’d watched and waited, baiting his trap for the woman who still tied him in knots just by breathing. He didn’t know what had been worse, not knowing where she was, or knowing and being unable to touch her for fear of spooking her into escape before he was ready.

His cock twitched as the breeze lifted her dress to reveal one long, creamy thigh. Lean yet supple, her legs had always drawn him with their deceptive strength. Lively and smooth, they conjured images of honeyed delight, and he could all too easily imagine those limbs locked around his head as he lapped her sweet cream. It had been all he could do not to take what he wanted in the first place, but he had contented himself with giving her a quick climax. And seeing her passion, he’d been hard pressed not to come when she had.

Abjon breathed deeply, keeping his eyes on his quarry while drawing on the discipline that stood him true these many years. He’d been through hostile revolutions, peacekeeper takedowns, and many a crew coup: enough experience to make him the most powerful pirate in the Vrail System. But by Aphra’s heart, steeling himself against Seriana’s powerful allure literally hurt. His cock throbbed and his heart beat painfully in anticipation of what was to come.

For two weeks he’d watched, anger and admiration warring within him. He still had trouble believing how incredibly deceptive Rover’s “charming if a bit naïve daughter” had been. But seeing her disguise and how cleverly she adapted to her environment made him feel an odd sense of pride.

He’d chosen well in his mate, as he’d known those many years ago. If only he’d been sharper in his pursuit, truer to his instincts, none of this would have happened. He should have cemented their bond years ago, his illegal pirating bedamned.

She finally glanced at him with those cool violet eyes, no longer defiant but strangely contemplative. Her gaze lingered on his face, in particular his lips, before traveling down his frame. She said nothing and gave him no clue as to what she was thinking.

He stared at her with a satisfied glint in his eyes, remembrances of her heated cries, of her explosive orgasm softening him. He’d known she’d be perfect, but the experience far surpassed his expectation. And when she’d closed her mouth over his cock, the incredible feeling of being inside her . . . He wanted it again, the next time within her sweet pussy.

Her pink, ripe lips pursed as his stare intensified, and she looked away with a frown.

He should have fucked her the first time she flashed those innocent eyes at him and saw him as a man, as more than her father’s Second. In time he’d stepped out from Rover’s shadow into his own light, but somewhere along the way he’d lost control over Seriana, as had her father.

For eleven long, hard years he’d worked to build his empire and stretch his reach across the System. Only the strongest, the deadliest, held on to what they cherished most. He’d thought himself strong, deadly, nearly invincible. And then a twenty-five year old woman with no warrior skill to speak of had disappeared from right under his nose.

Feeling like a fool all over again for losing his intended, his tolerant mood abruptly vanished.

He turned his attention from her when the craft met Fidei’s docks. A private island only the richest could afford, Fidei boasted the most stunning tropics in Aflera. Natural flora dotted every nook and cranny of the island. Soft pink, royal purple, and beckoning blue petals littered the path leading to the main house. Despite the beauty of the scene, the flowers held a far greater value than merely the aesthetic. Muted scents of honeyed flin and sultry rinka permeated the thick air, a heady aphrodisiac to the unwary.

He noted Seriana’s flushed face, the way she avoided eye contact. Good. She definitely felt it. Much as he wanted to fuck her right now where they stood, he’d do better to prolong the chase. No need to let her see how deeply she affected him. Instead, he’d let her know what she’d been missing all these years. He would seduce her, push beyond her endurance, and force her to accept him and only him as her lover and lifemate.

They reached the home’s main entrance, a set of steps leading to a monstrosity of wealth and hidden pleasures. Seriana’s hands clenched and her body tensed ever so slightly--a sign he’d come to recognize. She might have avoided all the others seeking Rover’s wayward daughter, but no one knew her as well as Abjon did.

He locked his hand around her arm to prevent her sudden flight. No, subtlety with this woman had not worked in the past. The time had come for blatant intention. He would strike at her resistance lick by lick and bite by bite, until he had her begging for mercy.

“You’re so predictable,” he murmured, pleased when she stiffened and shot him a glare. “There is no escape from me, Seriana. The time has come for a reckoning long overdue.”

She paused at the top of the landing in front of the entrance. Cured Afleran blueglass clouded the view into the home, but from what he’d already seen, Abjon knew Seriana would be reluctantly impressed.

“Reckoning?” she asked heatedly.

He nodded, unable to resist her sparkling temper. “Yes, but perhaps after some dinner. I’ve other hungers to sate before the sun sets.” He licked his lips, and she stared at him, unaware of her equally ravenous gaze.

She shook her head, apparently susceptible to more than just the exotic scents around them. His cock swelled and he again thought about fucking her here and now to set the precedent for the days and nights to come. But he wanted to lull her into a false sense of complacency. She needed to relax a fraction, then his claiming would be all the more powerful.

Pleased with his strategy thus far, Abjon nodded her toward the entrance and waited while she pulled on the door cord. Morey appeared to welcome them inside. With a nod to Abjon, he closed the doors behind them and left them alone.

“Dinner awaits.” Abjon once again grabbed her by the arm, this time rubbing the pads of his fingers over her silken flesh, more than satisfied with her sensual shiver.

They passed antiques from the arneo-classic period worth as much as his first ship, and he saw grudging admiration for the home reflected in Seriana’s wide, violet gaze.

“By Aphra’s vision, you must have stolen from half the System’s quadrants to afford this place.”

What little she knew of his business pursuits. He ignored her poor opinion of him and guided her into her seat. “I trust I won’t have to tie you down to prevent further escape?”

She sat mutinously silent.

“Seriana,” he said with a pleased sigh, seating himself next to her at the large dining table. He truly enjoyed having her at his mercy. Just knowing she was here, that she was his, made his blood hum. “Running again wouldn’t be the smartest thing to do. And though your father thinks you beyond intelligent, I’d have to disagree with him.”

Her eyes flashed. “Don’t talk about my father to me. If Rover Blue truly cared about me he wouldn’t have thrown me at you. How can he be so blind?” she cried.

“Your father loves you, and he’s one of the strongest men I know,” he said with quiet deliberation. “He has an open mind. He isn’t so childish as to run from passion when it presents himself.”

“Childish? You think it’s childish that I want to live my own life? That I want more than stealing and killing and running from System law, always looking over my shoulder?”

He’d promised himself he’d maintain control. He refused to let her goad him and thus redirect the situation. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to answer evenly. “I was ever willing to discuss your needs and your wants, Seriana. Yet in all the years we’ve known each other, this is the first you’ve shared them with me.”

“You wouldn’t understand,” she muttered and looked away.

“Why? Because I am a man? Or because I am a Ragga?” He couldn’t help the frustration lining his words. “Just because I can take by force does not mean I always will.”

Her eyes shifted to his so fast he thought she’d give herself a headache, and he amended, “Unless of course I’m pushed to violence by a very stubborn, willful spitfire.”

She frowned. “My life is not your concern.”

“Of course it is. I promised your father I would always look out for you.”

“Oh, so it’s my father you’re trying to impress by hunting me down like a skipped bounty?”

She wasn’t ready to hear the truth, not yet, so he pressed the controller in his pocket and food suddenly appeared on the table before them. Deliberately changing the subject, he said matter-of-factly, “You must be hungry. I know you haven’t been eating well on Aflera.” He peered at her, seeing the defined cheeks and thinner waist that only emphasized her curves, making her look all the more luscious.

“I don’t need food.” She pushed her plate aside and gazed at him with a sober look on her face. “I’m sorry you’re taking this the wrong way, Abjon. But we’re not meant to be together. I wish you would understood that.”

He waited, wondering where she thought to go with this new tactic. Anger hadn’t worked, so what now, passive persuasion?

“Make me understand,” he murmured, envisioning her in a lavender silk shift he’d brought from home.

“You’re a man used to taking charge, to getting what he wants. But I’m a simple woman.” He wanted to scoff. “I don’t need riches and perfection. I don’t need a man to make my life complete. I only need myself, to be true to a life of peace and understanding with the System.”

Did she really believe the Xen tripe she was spouting? He knew she’d spent time on planet Eyra, but she was quoting their mantra almost verbatim. “Understanding with the System” my ass. He watched her carefully, reluctantly impressed at her ability to appear so earnest when he could feel the static of bullshit in the air.

He nodded, feigning sympathy, and decided to alter his grandiose plans for making her see reason. With Seriana, action meant more than words. He chose his words carefully.

“It really is about what you need.” Her eyes narrowed at his tone, and he could see her weighing the decision to believe his sincerity. “I’m sorry, Seriana. I should have considered this before.”

He stood up and helped her to her feet, then cleared a place on the table and gently sat her where her plate had been. Stepping between her thighs, he took her face in his hands. He allowed a show of remorse on his face, a look he’d been practicing to appear authentic, and surprised her into speechlessness.

“I’ve been selfish, placing my wants above your own.” She nodded. “My hungers.” He looked to the food around them. She nodded again, as if in a daze. “When all along I should have been considering your needs.”

He kissed her softly on the forehead and swore he heard her sigh of relief. “I’m not so big a man I can’t change.”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” she said, gracing him with a smile.

He smiled back, the tightness of his expression alarming her.

“And since it’s your needs we’re discussing, let’s lay it out on the table, so to speak.” He glanced at her position on said table and grinned.

“Abjon?”

“What you need, Seriana, is a good fuck.”

He swallowed her cry of indignation, conscious of the sultry taste and feel of her. Silken limbs pushed at him, her mouth fought to be free, and then she was sighing, leaning into him. Like magic, their sensual magnetism flared to life, capturing them both within its web.

Abjon needed her like he needed breath. He wanted to brand himself on her, to make her realize she should never run again. Hardening his resolve to do it right, he willed himself to be strong. If this didn’t cement the foundation for their future, he didn’t know what would.

Chapter Four

Seriana couldn’t breathe. The sneaky, sexy bastard had seen through her double-talk. She’d wanted to deal with him honestly, to see where their passion might lead, but he was so damned controlling. The entire boat ride to the island she’d argued with herself and had finally realized there could never be a “them” because there was too much of him.

Yet now, with Abjon’s mouth covering hers, with the scorching passion in the tightly coiled body holding her, she hopelessly surrendered to the desire riding her hard.

Groaning under his onslaught, she was barely aware of his hands removing her clothing. His callused palms slid down her cheeks to her neck while he stroked his tongue inside her mouth. Stars, but he tasted like sex, and she couldn’t help remembering how his cum had tasted, salty and surprisingly sweet, like the man himself.

He licked at the roof of her mouth, twining his tongue with hers as his hands covered her breasts, weighing them before pinching her nipples with painful bursts of pleasure.

“Abjon, please,” she gasped when she could tear her mouth free.

“Please what?” His voice was husky, his hands constantly roving, stirring her flesh with their heat. “Please more? Please touch me, here?” He plumped her white globes, fondling and caressing her to the point of madness.

She lost all thought when his mouth trailed the path his hands had taken, sweeping her breast into a hot, moist well of delight. The sensation was powerfully erotic, but when coupled with his left, roving hand, she drew perilously close to demanding he finish her. Moving lower, tempting her to mold her body to his, his left hand caressed her stomach, then reached her tight black curls, grazing them ever so softly.

The pull of his lips on her nipple tugged at her womb and made her deliciously wet. When he finally delved into her folds, she groaned and whispered his name like a prayer.

She pressed as close to his hand as she was able, conscious that as he suckled her breast, he lowered her back to the table. Breaking away from her chest, he continued to trail kisses down her body, until his mouth rested a breath from her mound.

Settling his chin in her black curls, he rubbed back and forth, as if waiting for something from her. When she raised her head to look down at him, she saw male satisfaction blazing, along with something she couldn’t quite name.

“You see, love, you only needed me.”

Before she could respond, he spread her thighs wide and kissed her. The heat of his mouth fairly undid her, making her arch into his touch, unable to be still.

She writhed and moaned, in shock and awe that he had the power to make her feel with such intensity.

He laved her with aggressive strokes, his tongue and teeth nipping and sucking with an expertise that bespoke practice. But just as the niggle of jealousy wormed its way into her thoughts, it quickly disappeared when his tongue shot into her channel.

“Oh, Abjon,” she moaned, arching up, needing a release for the building tension shaking her very being. She had never felt so much sensation, and it was almost too much to bear.

“What is it you want, Seriana?” he asked thickly, his mouth shiny with her juices, his eyes a vibrant golden yellow, bright with desire.

“You, I want you,” she freely admitted, gratified by his harsh breathing and the mouth he readily returned to her clit.

He sucked on her nub and thrust two fingers inside her, pushing her to the edge. As if he could sense it, he began pumping his fingers in and out, all the while toying with her clit, sucking and biting, until she could feel her arousal pulsing like a living thing in her mind.

“Please, Abjon, please,” she cried, needing more, needing . . . him.

He thrust his fingers harder, his breathing as heavy as hers. Then he changed the slant of his mouth, his tongue bearing down with sharp licks that made her already hard clit almost overly sensitized. He drew back and blew warm breath over her flesh, and the tremor of climax was upon her. Bringing his mouth back down, he drew hard on her taut clit, rocking her into an explosion of desire that brought the world to its end.

Rapture pulsed through her, shaking her with its force. On and on the pleasure flowed, until finally she sank back on the table, her eyes closed in bliss, her body trembling with the aftershocks.

A warm kiss pressed her mouth, and she tasted herself on his lips, an erotic reminder of who had brought her to such peaks. She opened her eyes.

“You have no idea what you need,” he said in a gritty voice.

Glancing down, she saw him raging hard. Though she had little energy, she thought to give him the respite he so richly deserved and reached out to him.

“No.” His rejection hurt, especially after the incredible attention he’d just lavished on her body. He’d put so much care into his lovemaking. Or had she only imagined the affection, caught in passion’s snare?

“You think too much. And you aren’t ready yet, not for what I have to show you.”

He hoisted her off the table and over his shoulder like the barbarian she’d always claimed him to be.

* * * *

Four days later she remained tied to the large four-poster bed in his bedroom. She had been stunned when, after he’d brought her such ecstasy, he’d tied her arms and legs to the bedposts and left her there, alone.

He showed only to feed her and allow her visits to the lav. He refused to speak with her but always treated her gently, never as rough or harsh as he’d been that first day.

On his visits he was in control, subdued and silent. At first alarmed, she quickly disregarded any notion he might harm her. He might scare the rest of the System, but Abjon Afier had never hurt her physically. And after that first night, she knew he had some twisted sense of wanting to please her.

It seemed, however, that talking sensibly with the man would never work. At least she could respect him for not believing her Eyran line about “oneness.” She’d never understood the alien concept of withdrawing into oneself, especially when she wanted so much to be a part of the rest of the world.

He hadn’t believed her story, but had he listened to what else she’d said? She wanted more from life than the shady world of thievery to which he and her father belonged. She knew very little about the other side of life, the side where it was okay to trust in another.

She tugged at the silk scarves holding her arms. Funny, but until now she hadn’t really questioned her father’s bond with Abjon. Talk about trust. The two were thick as thieves, literally. For a man not prone to reliance, her father depended an awful lot on a Ragga more stone warrior than mortal man.

She had always sensed more from Abjon than he’d shown others. He saw with more perception, thought with more tolerance, and acted with more decisiveness than anyone she’d ever met. Incredibly, he’d risen from the ranks as a lowly miner, to her father’s Second in Command, to leader in his own right in just over ten years. And in all that time he’d maintained a watchful eye over her.

From the first she’d been drawn to him. True, she’d been impressed by his Ragga strength and flame-colored eyes. But more, she could feel something within him that called out to her.

Uncomfortable with the notion, she yanked at her bonds again, shivering in the cool air that met her skin where the blanket had fallen.

Seriana still had a hard time believing the intense pirate who’d beleaguered her for years was the same man who’d made her beg him to take her. By Aphra’s breast, the man could kiss. She could still feel his lips over her clit, could readily see his shiny black hair buried between her thighs, the thin braid at his temple trailing over her skin.

She grew wet thinking about it and wished she could press her legs closed. Tied as they were to the bedposts, she had no way of bringing them together. Sighing, she pondered her options in dealing with this situation.

Would it really be so bad to try to get to know him? But for his obvious heritage and time spent since joining her father, she knew little about him. Learning all she could about Abjon Afier only made sense. Perhaps his history would explain his allure. Conceding her curiosity didn’t necessarily mean she had to give up what she wanted out of life. As long as she didn’t become too engrossed in the startlingly sensual man, she reminded herself.

The doorway opened suddenly, startling her out of her introspection. Abjon entered with a tray of food. She eyed him hungrily, but not for sustenance. Instead, her eyes traveled over the broad width of his chest, partially exposed by his unbuttoned shirt. His coppery skin seemed to glow in the dim light of morning shining through the windows.

She’d always been partial to the smoothness of his skin, the lack of hair on his chest and legs she’d studied when he hadn’t been looking. Now, bound as she was with no more excuses to avoid him, she was free to look her fill and she did so.

“Problem?” he asked as he placed her tray near the bed. He stood with his arms akimbo, and her gaze flew to his powerful neck, that on any other man would be a spot of vulnerability, but on Abjon looked like muscle-corded armor.

“No problem,” she answered with a rusty tongue.

Sensing her need, he brought a cup of water forward.

“I could drink easier without these.” She shook her wrists in their restraints.

“I’m sure you could.” He tipped her head back and allowed her to swallow the water in small sips. She pondered the subtle change she sensed in him. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but he seemed warmer, more connected to her than he’d been the past four days.

With her thirst assuaged, she glanced up into his face only to see a blazing furnace of heat dwelling in his eyes. Cool air trickled over her breasts and she realized what had caught his gaze. Unable to stop the blush scalding her cheeks, she glared at him.

He chuckled. “Sorry, sweet, but you can’t expect a man not to look away from such perfect fruits.” Leaning down, he kissed each breast with deliberate softness, making her nipples erect and aroused with ease. “I could feast here for days,” he murmured.

“Abjon,” she gasped, “what are you--” She lost her train of thought when he tugged at one nipple. “When will you let me go?”

His lips quirked.

“You can’t keep me like this forever,” she said in a breathy voice, unnerved by the idea she might not mind being tied up as long as he was there to tend her.

“Hmm.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you and I have some talking to do.” He began feeding her small bites of succulent forba fruit, and she was too hungry to care about her bonds as she ate.

His eyes seemed overly intense as he watched her, his gaze alternating between her mouth and her breasts.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” she asked, conscious that since he’d entered he’d lavished his attention on her appetite.

“I already ate.” He grinned widely, showing strong white teeth. “Now we’re going to play a little game. We’re going to ask each other some questions. If I like your answers, I’ll set you free.” He paused.

“If you don’t like the answers?”

“I’ll keep you like this--”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“--forever,” he taunted, or at least she hoped he did.

Chapter Five

After he allowed Seriana a brief respite to the lav, during which she made use of the facilities and cleaned as best she could, Abjon retied her to the bed.

She thought to fight him but by the look in his eyes decided not to. It wasn’t as if she had the strength to overpower him. As it was, the only sway she seemed to hold over him was his body’s response to her naked frame.

After he’d tied her, he left her naked and open to his perusal. She studied him, wondering just what he hoped to gain from all this. Surprisingly, she felt no fear or even anger. Just arousal and curiosity, both of which threatened to consume her.

“Are you ready to begin?” He stood over her and removed his shirt.

“What do you want from me?” she couldn’t help asking.

His eyes gleamed, and he removed his boots and trousers, leaving him clad in a thin pair of shorts, which did nothing to hide his fierce erection. “We’ll get to that soon enough.” He joined her on the bed, straddling her waist but resting on his knees and thighs so as not to overwhelm her with his weight.

She swallowed loudly. His shorts clung lovingly to his massive cock, and she couldn’t help noticing how he seemed to swell under her regard.

“I can’t wait,” she heard him murmur. She blinked up into his eyes and saw him staring at her mouth. She flushed, unable to help herself, and he chuckled. “Let’s begin the game.

“First I’ll ask you a question, and I expect you to answer honestly. Even if it’s what you think I don’t want to hear.”

“Okay,” she said slowly.

“Then you may ask me a question in return.”

“I can ask anything?”

He nodded and she thought this might work out to her advantage after all. In addition to the obvious arousal he stoked in her, he might also assuage her curiosity.

“Does my heritage bother you?” he asked.

Surprised, she shook her head before she even thought about it. “No, why would you ask that?” He seemed to relax a little in relief, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “Of all the questions to ask, that seems a little obvious now, doesn’t it?”

“Lust can be aroused in anyone, Seriana. Like has little to do with it.” He sounded different, and she realized he truly had feared she disliked the Ragga in him.

“Okay, I answered your question. Now answer mine. What exactly are you? You’re Ragga, but you’re something else as well.”

He blinked in surprise. “You’re very observant.” But he didn’t sound happy at the admission. “My father was Ragga, my mother Nebite.”

She’d only guessed before that he might have Nebite blood in his background. But hearing him say it, she could only stare in admiration. The Nebites possessed a sexuality and beauty envied by those in the System. She could see the sensuality in his face, in the pleasure-slanted eyes that burned with gold as they watched her.

“Does it bother you to admit it?”

“It’s my turn to question.” He easily ignored her query. “Do you hate your father?”

The abrupt change in subject startled her. “Hate my father? Of course not.”

“Yet you ran not only from me, but from him as well.”

She flushed. Hearing him say it made her feel all of two years old. She should never have run. She should have stayed and fought for her independence. “I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“I agree.” He overlooked her glare. “You don’t trust him, though, do you?”

She squirmed, not wanting to answer.

He ran a hand over her breast, squeezing and petting. “If you do not answer, sweet,” he said in a soft voice, “I will bring you near to climax but not over. Again and again, you’ll teeter on the brink, begging me for release.”

The word “begging” made her reconsider. To her consternation, she’d done enough begging already. “Okay, okay,” she said on a breath as he toyed with her nipple. “I trust my father in that I know he loves me. But he’s too unprincipled to trust with other things. Currency? No. The lives of himself and my friends? No, I’m sorry to say.”

She felt ashamed to admit what she’d felt all her life.

“Don’t worry, love, I know how you feel.”

She blinked. “You do?”

“Much as I love and respect your father, I understand him. He hasn’t gotten to where he is today by being compassionate and, dare I say, nice.”

He shifted over her body, sliding his heavy erection over her belly.

“Do you like how I make you feel?” he asked.

“Hey, it’s my turn for a question.”

“You asked it when you said, 'you do?'”

“That’s cheap.” She wanted to scowl, but his hands crept over her breasts again, and she sighed instead.

“Yes, love, tell me how you feel. Your body knows, but I want you to admit it to me.”

She arched under his touch, frustrated at how much he made her want him. “Yes,” she hissed. “I like the way you make me feel. I want you. I always want you,” she confessed when he suckled one taut nipple.

“Tell me.” He moved back so that he sat between her legs, his hands placed precariously near the juncture of her thighs.

“Since I was, I don’t know, sixteen or so, I’ve felt out of sorts around you.”

He began stroking her thighs, his eyes glued to hers, and she continued on a gasp.

“You made me feel hot and cold. You bothered me when you stared at me with that blazing amber look, like the one you’ve got now.” She moaned as he slid a finger between her folds and inserted it into her wet sheath. “You always promised with your eyes, but you never made good on that promise.”

He stilled his hands and she could tell she’d surprised him. “You wanted me then?”

“I don’t know. I wanted something from you, but I didn’t know what. I was young. By the time I realized what I felt, I knew too much about you,” she added resentfully.

“Ah,” he said, sliding back and leaning down to lick the dew from her clit. She groaned and tried to tighten her thighs around him, to no avail. “So my “illegal pursuits,” as you think of them, put you off.”

“Yes,” she gasped as he sucked hard on her clit.

He licked her again before regaining his position on his knees between her legs. Staring down at his tented shorts, he muttered under his breath and ripped them from his body.

“Do you like what you see?” he asked on a ragged breath when his eyes met hers.

She nodded.

“What would you like me to do to you?”

Seriana bit her lip, wanting him more now that she saw his cock glistening with need. Yet to give voice to her inner desires . . .

“Seriana,” he threatened in a growl and flicked at her clit.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. It was easier if she didn’t have to look at him. For some reason he made her feel shy while overly sensual. It made no sense.

“I want you to touch me like you did last night, and to feel you in my mouth again. But I want you inside me when you come. I want to feel you thrusting in and out of me, your body rubbing against mine.”

His breath sped at her words, and she knew she’d aroused both of them with her desire. She opened her eyes and saw him staring at her, his mouth flat and his cock even larger.

“I wanted to draw this out,” he admitted on a rasp. “But I can’t.”

He crawled up her body and turned around, putting his face in her lap, his cock level with her mouth. Then he began licking and tasting her, and she was lost. Feeling for his shaft with her lips, she eagerly opened her mouth and accepted his gentle thrust.

Like a lover’s perfume, his sultry scent called to her, demanding she give him as much pleasure as he’d given her. She took him in, pushing and pulling at his cock with her lips and tongue while he nipped gently on her clit.

The added sensation of being unable to move, completely under his control, increased her stimulation until she was a short breath from orgasm.

His thrusts increased as well, telling her in no uncertain terms how much he wanted her. She managed to break from his shaft. “Please, Abjon, inside me.”

With a muffled curse, he quickly shifted until the head of his cock met the wet heat of her sex. “Look at me, love,” he said in a guttural voice. Waiting until their eyes met, he slowly slid inside her, stretching her to the limit and beyond.

He was large, massive, and he fit with a perfection she could only have dreamed. With a deep groan, he began thrusting, softly at first, as if to determine her acceptance.

“More,” she cried, needing all of him. His answer was a violent thrust, making her groan with approval. He stroked and stroked, pummeling with a strength that should have hurt, but only heightened the erotic sensation. A sudden brush of his shaft against her clit and she was coming, hard and deep, her contractions gripping his cock with a violent pull that triggered his own climax.

“Seriana,” he shouted as he came, gushing into her with a force that took them both off the bed. He shuddered as he poured into her, caging her within his arms tenderly while his body loved hers.

After a while they both recovered enough to gaze sleepily at one another.

The discomfort of her bonds seeped in, and she read the understanding in his glowing eyes. “You promise you won’t run?” he asked in a throaty growl.

“Not until you answer the rest of my questions,” she managed.

He grinned, a bright shine of affection that made her heart jolt. “I think I can handle that.” After a quick kiss on the mouth, he shot off the bed and undid her restraints.

Feeling the blood rush back into her hands and feet, she shivered until he began rubbing her to relieve the tingling.

Once the blood rushed back into her limbs, she thanked him and watched as he climbed back into bed. “You really are a handsome man.”

“I know.”

Laughing at his arrogance, she accepted the warm embrace he enfolded her in and thought hard about how to say what she desperately wanted to know.

“Seriana?”

“What do you really want from me, Abjon?”

He stiffened beneath her and she wondered if she should have eased into the heavy questions after they’d both fully recovered from their lovemaking. Now the passion and excitement she’d felt faded under the sudden flatness in his all too expressionless gaze.

Chapter Six

What did he want with her? Was the woman daft? How could she not sense his feelings behind every touch, every teasing caress? But then, perhaps she didn’t sense it because she didn’t feel it herself.

A foreign sense of self-doubt filled him, one Abjon hadn’t felt in a very long time. Even when Seriana had vanished a year ago, he’d known he would find her and bring her back to him. He’d never once considered the possibility she wouldn’t care for him.

“Abjon?” she asked hesitantly.

He rolled away, his back to her, and sat at the side of the bed. Frustration and rage built inside him, that once again he might fall prey to a woman’s manipulations.

Dammit, he hadn’t imagined the way she’d looked at him for the last few years, or had he? Yes, there had always been a tinge of wariness in her gaze, but mixed with that was a wealth of admiration, of attraction. He had been equally taken by her beauty, her intelligence, and more, her integrity. Ironically, her basic purity had drawn him like no other thing could.

Surrounded by a world of corruption, Seriana glowed with an innocence all too rare in this life. The daughter of Rover Blue, a cutthroat that made Abjon pale by comparison, she possessed a keen intelligence that should have enabled her to see beyond the superficial layers of his craftily built reputation. He’d stolen, yes, and he’d killed to defend himself, but he’d never murdered, and he’d only stolen from those as or more corrupt than himself.

That she still didn’t see the real him, after all their years together and, hell, after this morning, made him want to pound something into the ground. He didn’t dare examine the emptiness in the vicinity of his heart.

“What is it you think I want?” he asked coolly.

“I think, ah,” she paused, and he glanced back at her.

Unlike him, Seriana was small, feminine, and beauty personified. Her long black hair fell in waves around her face, framing the deep lavender pools of uncertainty swimming in her eyes.

“Tell, me, Seriana. We are, after all, still playing the game.”

“The game?” Confusion lined her brow before she recalled what had led to their lovemaking. Her eyes darkened to a deep indigo. “Is that all this is to you? A game?”

“I might ask you the same.”

She rose to her knees, gloriously naked but so enraged she missed the answering flame of passion in his greedy stare. “You’ve stalked me, you’ve haunted me, for as long as I can remember. The first time in my life I tried to be free of my father’s criminality, you hunted me, and not just for a few days or weeks, but for an entire year. I was almost sold as a slave to filthy Melan degenerates because of you.

“And now, after a year of running, of never-ending pursuit, I turned around and made love to you. I, Seriana Blue, made love to Abjon Afier, the biggest, baddest pirate in the entire Vrail System, in the face of my self-imposed rule to avoid my father’s way of life. What the hell does that tell you?”

He could only stare at her, so enraptured by her passionate splendor he wanted to lay her down and join their bodies for eternity. It was with some effort he answered. “That you were swept away by desire, perhaps?”

He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but her eyes deepened to black, and then she flew at him. Startled, he caught her and tumbled to the floor, conscious to keep his weight underneath her.

Stars, but the woman had spirit in droves. She slapped, clawed, and even managed to bite him before he flipped her onto her back and straddled her, staring in puzzlement.

In all the time he’d known her, he’d seen Seriana do many things, including lose her temper. But he’d never, ever, seen her explode into violence about anything. Dare he hope this was a good sign?

“Get off me, you oaf!” She struck at his chest, and he easily caught her hands and pinned them to either side of her head. “By Aphra’s heart, you’re not even breathing hard.”

He wanted to smile at her pique. “Are you finished?”

“Are you?” she growled.

“Sweet, I’ve barely begun.”

* * * *

She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the odd flatness that had moments ago filled Abjon had vanished. Now, as she lay on her back under a mountain of Ragga, she wondered whether to view that as a good thing.

He stared down at her with a face that enraptured her, as it had from the first moment she’d seen him. For years she’d regarded him from afar, afraid to get too close lest she succumb to his temptation. The last thing she’d wanted was to get involved with one of her father’s men.

Yet for all her distance, she had noticed things. She’d never seen him act disrespectfully to a woman or to a person of advanced years. She knew Raggas had a hearty respect for traditions and the elderly, but Abjon had been raised apart from his people.

Though he’d supposedly stolen millions, he lived comfortably but not to excess in the house next to her family’s home. She’d never seen him with a woman, but his popularity with the ladies was a thing of legend among her father’s crew. Abjon, however, remained circumspect about his love life, almost like . .. . a gentleman.

A gentleman, however, she thought wryly, her temper fading, didn’t sit atop a lady. Though he’d kept his weight off her by resting on his knees, she didn’t like the submissive posture in which she lay. Almost as if he’d read her thoughts, he cautiously rose and lifted her to her feet as if she weighed no more than a feather.

“Back on the bed, Seriana,” he said in a thick voice, making her instantly aware of their lack of clothing.

She felt the blush even while she reached for a sheet to wrap around herself. “I don’t think so. I want you to answer my question, Abjon.”

“Question?” he asked negligently as he leaned against a bedpost, a smirk on his face. “Which question would that be?”

She opened her mouth to blast his insolence when she realized he was enjoying their banter. He looked relaxed, almost boyish in his amusement, and he lacked the battle tension that always seemed to fill his frame.

Much as she wanted to take him to task for making light of what she’d been through, she didn’t want this new, light-hearted Abjon to disappear.

The fact that he’d pursued her since the day she’d left, that even when he’d captured her he hadn’t hurt her, but instead had gifted her with pleasure beyond imagining, had to mean something. He’d made no reference to returning her to her father, and he touched her like a man who cared. At turns possessive yet tender, he stared at her with a strange look in his eyes, one that, in her heart of hearts, she hoped to credit as love.

Narrowing her gaze, she stepped forward and poked him. “Don’t get smart with me,” she growled. Her finger made no headway against the muscled wall of his chest, so she sought an alternate means to subdue him. She dropped her sheet and saw an answering need in his swollen cock.

With stroking hands, she began to pet him, trailing over muscle and sinew, stealing around the rock-hard bulge of his biceps. His breathing quickened and she grinned, a purely feminine power stealing through her.

“You aren’t sending me back to my father anytime soon, are you?” she asked as her hands reached down to encircle his lengthening erection.

He groaned and closed his eyes, yielding to her control. She thrilled when he shook his head and brought his hands over hers.

“More, sweet.” He encouraged her to increase the friction on his cock, and when she followed his instruction she was richly rewarded with a soul-stealing kiss. Thought soon faded as feeling and sensation overtook them both.

* * * *

The next week passed all too swiftly to Abjon’s way of thinking. He and Seriana spent time together, playing, laughing, and best of all, making love at every available opportunity. With her, he could never quite get enough, and every instance spent inside her only increased his addiction to having the sweet, wild woman.

He tried to overlook the searching glances she sent him when she didn’t think he was looking. The time spent with her was too perfect to mar with anything negative, so he simply ignored the need to hash out their differences.

Sooner or later their idyllic vacation would end, so until that time, he planned to make the most of it. He grinned as he watched her splashing about in the relaxation pool behind the house. Her full breasts swayed as she laughed, her pearlescent flesh sparkling against the pale pink water.

Her taut abdomen fairly begged to be nipped, and he grew hard thinking about what he planned to do once he joined her. Unfortunately, Morey interrupted his pleasurable thoughts with a badly timed vidcall.

Answering the screen mounted just inside the rear of the house, Abjon warned, “This had better be damned important.”

“It is,” Morey quickly answered. “Rover Blue has been spotted circling the Colassa as we speak. Already a few of his scouts have questioned the staff.”

“By Aphra’s breast, I told him I’d bring her back.”

“Apparently, he has as much patience as you do,” Morey muttered. “I’ll keep him distracted as best I can. But the most you can hope for is a day’s reprieve.”

“Do it. And keep him in your sights once he lands.”

“Will do.”

Abjon disconnected, his good mood shot to hell. Damn. He hadn’t had nearly enough time to connect with Seriana. They’d shared their bodies and their minds on a number of interesting topics, but had yet to share their hearts.

He knew he’d fallen in love with the woman long ago, but admitting it to her--that was something else altogether. Like it was yesterday, he could still remember the pain of his mother’s betrayal. Sold at nine years of age to a mining facility, he had watched through tears as she’d left laughing with her latest lover.

Love had almost killed him then. He could only hope he’d fare better this time around.

Seriana called his name, and he met her drying off by the small pool. Her eyes shimmered with humor but quickly sobered when she saw him.

“What’s wrong?” She reached out a hand, cupping his chin to bring his gaze to meet hers.

Unable to stop himself, Abjon took her mouth with possession. She sighed under his touch, enhancing his need to claim her as his own. Plunging his tongue inside her mouth, he began stroking, thrusting in and out of her mouth with a need bordering on obsession.

He fondled her breasts, his touch growing rougher as he noted the hardened peaks, her shivering, dampened flesh quivering with excitement.

When he found her soft and wet between her thighs, his body demanded release.

He yanked his mouth from hers and took her by the shoulders.

“What--” she asked in a daze before he turned her around and forcibly bent her over the nearest table.

Giving her no audible response, he slapped her on the ass and shoved her thighs apart at the ankle, the domination of their lovemaking waking the savage within him.

“Brace yourself,” he growled while he deftly unfastened his trousers. Once he freed his cock, he stepped between her thighs and shoved himself deep inside her.

She moaned his name as he rode her hard. Gripping her hips, he pistoned in and out, her harsh breathing and his physical mastery bringing him very near climax.

He reached around to pinch her clit and felt her walls close around him as she quickly peaked. She squeezed him, every contraction of her vagina a new torment to his already over-stimulated shaft.

Pounding harder and faster, he soon followed her into oblivion. Shuddering as his seed drenched her pussy and slid down her thighs, he couldn’t contain the brief thrill that stole through him at thoughts of impregnation.

Though he’d never truly reflected on it, having a child with Seriana was a foregone conclusion. Each time he spilled his seed inside her, he brought them closer to an inseparable future. Satisfaction pooled in his heated blood, and with regret he finally withdrew.

She turned her head and watched him readjust himself in his clothing. “Not that I’m complaining, but what brought that on?” She stood and turned to face him, but he couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he noted the seed trickling down her leg.

Blushing, she grabbed a nearby towel and cleaned herself. “I swear, you fill me to overflowing every time.”

“Good.” And soon enough there won’t be a spot on you that isn’t marked by my scent. You’re mine.

She laughed. “Such a smooth talker. So tell me why you looked so grim only moments ago.”

His euphoria faded. “Your father has arrived.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. “I suppose he knows where I am.”

“Not yet.” Abjon placed both his hands on her cheeks, loving the feel of her silken skin. “Love, it’s time we talked.”

She sighed and her eyes filled with tears, unmanning him.

“Don’t cry,” he pleaded, wiping her eyes. “Seriana,

I--”

“It’s all right, Abjon. I knew it was too good to last.”

Chapter Seven

“Too good to last?” His eyes narrowed, making Seriana want to break into loud, embarrassingly awful tears.

This week had been perfect. Absolutely, incredibly perfect. If a lingering sense of unease occasionally hit her during quiet moments, she’d ignored the feeling. It had been too heavenly to have Abjon to herself. All that sensual male devoted to fulfilling her every desire. It was unreal.

He’d been all she’d imagined a man could be: tender, loving, sexual and giving. When not making love, they’d discussed everything from poetry to politics.

However, she made no mention of his livelihood, and he made no mention of the fact that she’d fled from him. Instead they’d wiled away the hours swimming and sunning, basking in Fidei’s paradise and in one another.

“Now that my father’s here, we’ll have to get back to reality.” She couldn’t help the depression that filled her. “You’ll go back to pirating, I’ll go back to keeping my father’s books, and this interlude will fade into a pleasant memory.”

“Only pleasant?” He looked amused and her sorrow swiftly turned to irritation.

“I’m so glad you’re not concerned about my father. He’s killed men for less than what you and I have done this past week.”

One brow rose. “You’re kidding, right? Seriana, you yourself told me your father was throwing us together. Of course he’ll accept me. He’s lucky to have me as it is,” he murmured.

“You don’t understand. My father wanted us together, bonded by marriage.” She waited for horror to pass over his face, as the word ‘marriage’ had that effect on the men she knew.

He shrugged. “I still don’t understand the problem here.”

“The problem is this--I’m not marrying you,” she spaced each word out slowly.

“Why?”

“Why?” She blustered, astounded by his obtuseness. “You’re a pirate, that’s why.”

“And if I weren’t a pirate? What then?” He stepped closer, gazing down at her with a disturbing intensity.

She stared back, lost in his flame-filled gaze, wishing beyond all hope that she could have this man in her life forever. But she refused to live with someone who would constantly jeopardize their future, all for want of materialistic possessions.

If Abjon were a peacemaker or soldier for the greater good, she could live with his dangerous profession. But to risk life and limb on a daily basis, for naught but profit? And Aphra knew what ends he employed to gain such profit. No, not even for Abjon could she abandon her hope for a better future. Her eyes misted. Just thinking about the loss and heartache their separation would bring made her want to cry forever.

“But you are a pirate,” she said softly, breaking eye contact. “So the point is moot.”

He cleared his throat. “What if I told you I love you?”

She froze. “Do you?” How she managed to ask that in a calm voice she’d never know. She felt as if her entire existence hung on that one answer.

“I do.” His words were solemn, the loving expression in his gaze open and honest.

Tears began pouring down her cheeks and her heart felt as if it were being ripped in two.

“I’m sorry, Abjon, more than you’ll ever know.” She sniffed, wiping at her eyes. How can you say you love me and not know who I am inside? I can’t keep living like I did with my father. I’m not a criminal and I never will be. “I won’t live with a man who does what my father does. And we both know you’ll never give that up.”

He smiled then, completely breaking her heart. “So sure of that, are you?” He grazed her cheek with one finger. “We only have one more day together, Seriana. If you won’t say it, then show me how much you love me.”

The words locked tight in her throat, she threw herself into him, seeking haven in his arms, in the pleasure only he could give. Mouth to mouth, heart to heart, their bodies spoke of a love not to be denied.

* * * *

Abjon and Seriana met her father the following day in his suite at the Colassa. Rover Blue sighed with relief as he enfolded his daughter in a backbreaking hug.

“Easy,” Abjon chided, giving Rover a dark look.

Her father snorted, ignoring the Ragga. “By the goddess, Seriana, you are truly beautiful.” He marveled as he turned her in his arms. “Seeing you now, it’s as if you’re an entirely different person than my sweet little girl.” He glanced at Abjon knowingly. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

Abjon gave her a wolfish grin, despite her strong warnings from yesterday and this morning. “Indeed. She’s delectable.”

Her father stared from Abjon to her, his smile widening, and she felt as if “doom” were written on her forehead. “I told you she’d see the light. So when is the marriage ceremony to take place?”

“I’m afraid there won’t be one,” Abjon said in a matter-of-fact voice. Her eyes narrowed, as did her father’s.

“What?” Rover asked.

“She won’t have me.”

“Why won’t she?” Her father glared at her, giving her a stare that made lesser men tremble.

“I can’t,” she blurted, wondering why Abjon hadn’t seemed more emotional. If he’d truly meant that he loved her, he should have sounded more heartbroken. Instead he sounded as if he could care less.

“Why can’t you?” Rover cursed. “I’ve worried my head off for a year, only keeping out of the search because your giant here promised he’d return with you. Then I hear from one of my sources that he’d found you,” he paused to glare at Abjon, “and he hadn’t said a thing to me about it. That was a month ago!

“Don’t think I don’t know what you two have been doing in all that time. This boy’s lusted after you since the day he saw you, and you’ve avoided him for the same reason, I expect.” He rolled his eyes when she gasped in surprise. “Hell, Seriana. You mooned over the lad every chance you saw him. What did you think, that I hadn’t noticed how extremely 'uninterested' you always were?”

Abjon, she noted, had an extremely satisfied look on his face.

She blushed, knowing everything her father said was true. She’d admitted as much to Abjon, but her father made her sound like a love-sick zafu. Scowling at her father for making her feel like she was twelve again, she let loose the leash on her emotions.

“Fine. You want to know why I don’t want to marry him? It’s because he’s too much like you.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I don’t want a man who thieves and murders on a whim. I don’t want someone who will always put me last, who thinks he’s above the laws that give our system justice and equality. What you do isn’t right, Father. And I’ve been telling you that for years!”

Rover blinked at her. “Yes, well,” he blustered, looking to Abjon for support.

But her lover simply shrugged and shook his head. “Don’t look at me. You dug the hole, you get out of it.”

“And another thing. You took Abjon under your wing years ago, making him just like you. This is the kind of man you want for your daughter? A man who would sooner kill another for gain than lift a finger at decent, honest work?”

Abjon began to scowl. “Now wait a minute, Seriana--”

“This is the man you would have me wed? A killer, a thief and mercenary? Hell, Father, he’s almost worse than you!”

“Thank you.” Abjon tilted his head and said wryly, “For a minute there I thought you didn’t like me.”

“I love you, you idiot. That’s not the point.” She continued to berate her father, who stood dumbstruck under her tirade. “I hate keeping your books. I hate living on Mornio, and I hate knowing there’s the possibility you might not return when you go raiding. And another thing,” she continued in huff, talking as fast as she was able. “You--”

Overwhelmed by the barrage of emotions she’d been suppressing for so long, she missed Abjon’s overjoyed grin until he yanked her violently toward him and kissed the breath out of her.

“Thank Aphra,” she heard her father mutter. “Damned if her dead mother hadn’t suddenly appeared and possessed my shy, quiet little girl.”

Abjon ended the kiss, and she had to lean on his arm her knees were so weak. “She’s not shy, and she’s definitely not quiet. She’s my woman, and it’s about damned time she finally realized that fact.”

“Abjon.” She struggled in his imprisoning grasp. Apparently he’d missed the part about them not marrying.

“No, love, you’re mine,” he said firmly and turned to her father. “She’s not running the few legal ventures in your dirty organization anymore, Rover. In fact, aside from fatherly visits that have nothing to do with your activities on Mornio, you won’t be seeing her or your grandchildren until you clean up your act.”

Rover’s eyes widened. “Grandchildren?”

“Not yet,” she growled, embarrassed Abjon was having this conversation with her father, in her presence no less. “And where do you get off telling my father how to behave around me?”

She tried to scowl, but Abjon’s heart-stopping smile conquered her anger.

“Seriana, I love you, but you’re too tenderhearted dealing with your father. With Rover Blue, only direct intimidation and straightforward orders work.”

“Orders?” Rover blustered.

“Orders,” Abjon agreed. “We both know my fleet can take yours, anytime I want to,” he added, menace in his tone.

Seriana gasped and wriggled to get free, but Rover merely raised his eyebrows. “You think?”

“I know.” Abjon stared at her father, and she prayed the standoff between them wouldn’t turn ugly.

“Damn me,” Rover grumbled and shook his head. “I believe you mean that. Even with all you gave up.”

He and Abjon exchanged a heavy look, one that had her curiosity running rampant. “What are you two talking about?”

Abjon tugged her away from her father and stared down at her with a tender expression on his face. “I asked you once before what you would do if I wasn’t a pirate.” Her heart sped with hope, with anticipation. “And I told you I loved you.”

“But--”

“Seriana, I’ve worked these many years to be able to make a future for us.” He waited while she digested his words. “I’ve loved you forever. The only reason I worked as hard as I have with your father was to make a strong enough presence to keep you safe, and to make a good enough living to finally break free. I’ve been completely legitimate in all my enterprises for a year now. I’m a free trader, one who owns a fancy little island named Fidei, as a matter of fact.” He frowned. “If you hadn’t run like you did, we could be celebrating our one year anniversary tomorrow in paradise.”

She could only stare in wonder. As Rover Blue’s Second, Abjon had commanded most of the System’s underworld, a position of authority prized by everyone she knew. “You gave up all that power, all that prestige for me?”

“For us,” he corrected and kissed her gently. “I’ve always known how you felt about my lifestyle. Rover constantly talked about you, and I understood more and more about the woman I loved.”

Her eyes welled and she heard her father clear his throat.

“Well, go on girl. Tell him you love him and you’ll be marrying. And maybe I’ll give some thought to handing over the reins too. I’m getting older, and I definitely want to see some grandchildren before I go.”

“Don’t push, Rover.” Abjon glared her father into silence before returning a loving gaze to her. “I built that house on Fidei for you, love. And I’ve seen how much you enjoy working in that cookery at the Colassa. Be with me and you can have anything your heart desires.”

She had eyes only for Abjon, for the man who had done so much to be with her, aware of the unfettered joy filling her soul.

“I desire you, Abjon Afier. I love you, and I would be happy, no, honored, to join you in Lifebond.”

He blinked, surprised. “Lifebond is a Ragga concept, Seriana.”

“I know,” she said with a sly grin. “I studied everything I could get my hands on about the Ragga culture the day after I met you.”

He grinned, his eyes alight with an inner fire. “You did, eh?”

“I did. And our bonding wouldn’t be complete without the Ragga ceremony. After all, I can’t birth Ragga children without the Lifebond.”

His eyes took on a suspiciously wet sheen and he hugged her close. “I love you so much, Seriana.”

“And I love you,” she said between tears.

They jolted to feel her father’s arms around them. “And I love both of you,” he said in a thick voice. “Imagine, my brains, Abjon’s brawn, and your looks, Seriana. We’ll rule the entire System in no time at all!”

“No son of mine will be involved in anything illegal,” she warned with a laugh.

“Of course not,” her father agreed, a twinkle in his eyes. “I was talking about your daughter.”

The End