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You have stolen my heart. His words resounded in her head, mirroring her own thoughts as her body continued to tremble with her release. Her inner muscles clenched around him, milking him, dragging her under that intoxicating wave of ecstasy.
Her mind settled not long after. She struggled to drag in a steady breath as he slid from her body and lowered her leg back to the floor.
Molly pulled her dress back down and gave him a small smile. “Did you speak the truth?”
“You know I did,” he replied, making no attempt to pretend he knew not what she spoke of as he pushed a curl off her cheek. “You have my heart, Molly. And I only hope that some day you might give me yours.”
Her pulse quickened and pleasure warmed her blood, tingeing her cheeks pink as she lowered her gaze.
Trying to be flippant, she murmured, “Well, as you know, I had no intention of becoming serious with any man, Emmett. And yet you’ve managed to flip my most carefully laid plans. No matter what my intentions were, somehow you’ve ended up with my heart as well.”
Emmett gave a soft laugh and caught her hand, placing it across his chest to where she could feel the rapid beat of his heart.
“And make no doubt, sweetheart, I shall cherish it.”
She gave a delicate sniff, even as her smile widened. “Indeed, I should hope so.”
Their gazes held for a moment, softened, before she finally dragged her focus away and cleared her throat.
“We should get back out front,” she murmured.
He nodded and stepped away from her, pushing his cock back into his trousers once more.
She ran her gaze over him, so warm inside and her heart still racing from their moment and somewhat surprising declarations.
And then she remembered. Gods. How could she have almost forgotten? Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed a kiss to his neck.
“But before we go, oh keeper of my heart, you did give me your word.”
“My word?” he murmured, his hands smoothing a path up and down her spine.
“Nika?”
“Ah. Yes, so I did.” He sighed and pulled away. With a gentle hand, he lifted her chin so she looked at him. “Brendon has her and has promised that she will not be harmed.”
Molly blinked, her lips parting in dismay. “Pardon? Not be harmed? What is happening? Why would she be harmed?”
“That is all I can tell you at this time. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
“All you can tell me? But you gave me your word!”
“To share a morsel.” Emmett gave a slow grin and shrugged. “I apologize, Molly, if it is not as juicy a bit as you would have liked. But it is all Brendon instructed me to share with you.”
“Instructed you?” she sputtered and stepped back from his arms. “You mean Brendon told you to pass on this information? And yet you made me…” Her cheeks filled with color and she gave a growl of frustration. “Why. you little—”
“Did you not enjoy what we just did?” He lifted an eyebrow is amusement and reached for her again, but she quickly avoided him. “Besides, I simply offered a bit of incentive.”
She folded her arms across her breasts and glared. “Is that what you would call it? Well, Emmett, I cannot say I’m quite happy with you right now—no matter the state of my heart. You have essentially answered none of my questions.”
“You know that she is well.”
“From the mouth of the man who looked as if he would like to have killed Nika last night!” She shook her head. “Brendon’s word that she will not be harmed is simply not enough.”
Emmett’s brows drew together in a scowl and his light demeanor vanished. “It will have to be, Molly. This is not your concern.”
“You cannot say what is or is not my concern.”
“She was nothing but a customer passing through.”
“She became a friend.”
“And that was your blunder.”
“Oh! I cannot believe I am hearing this,” she scoffed and moved to step past him, but he caught her elbow and swung her around.
“Molly, please do not force your nose into business where it doesn’t belong.”
“That is just it, Emmett. There is something amiss with my friend and you and Brendon give me only the barest of details. How am I supposed to just sit by and trust that all is well with her?”
“Do you trust me?”
She hesitated, her chin jutting with frustration. “You know that I do.”
“Then it should be enough.”
Tugging her arm free, she moved to the door and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Emmett. But it is not.”
Chapter 17
Was she dead?
No. There would be no pain after death.
Nika’s brows furrowed, but she did not open her eyes. In truth, she was a bit terrified that the pounding in her head would only multiply if she let her lids flutter open.
She moved her hand to touch her head but was stopped by the hard metal that surrounded it.
Her eyes snapped open, panic locking the air in her throat. The room was dim, making it hard to see much more than shadows. She twisted on the mattress—it appeared she was on a bed—and tugged at her wrists, which were restrained above her head in some form of a shackle.
“You have awoken.”
The muscles in her body coiled at his cold words. Lifting her head up an inch, she scanned the room, trying to figure out where he lingered.
Brendon sat furled in a chair near the corner. He was just a large shadow really. She was somewhat thankful she could not see his face.
The reminder came swiftly that she was alive and what her circumstances were. Her stomach revolted and more dizziness assailed her.
Laying her head back down, she closed her eyes.
Surely this was the interrogation room and someone would be in shortly to begin the horrific proceedings. How long would she hold out under their torture? Certainly she could not allow herself to give out any information about Tresden.
Her intent had been to die rather than face captivity. And yet she’d succumbed to being taken alive. So she would still likely die—only now at the hands of the planet’s military. Her lips twitched in a humorless smile. Unfortunately, it would not be quite as painless a death.
“When will they come?” she inquired flatly.
“When will who come?”
She heard Brendon unfurl himself from the chair and then footsteps approached the bed.
“My interrogators.” She opened her eyes and found him standing above her.
Her pulse quickened and something in her heart softened a bit. With regret. With tenderness. Why did it have to end like this? She should have never had to see him in this situation. He should have never known who she was. Whether by her own escape back to Tresden, or through her death. This moment should not be.
“Have you not yet realized, Nika?” Brendon took another step forward, and his face—rigid and expressionless—was suddenly lit by the faint glow of the early morning sunlight that poured in through the metal blinds. “I am your interrogator.”
Her throat tightened and she gave the tiniest shake of her head. “No. It would not be allowed. It is a conflict of interest…I do not believe you.”
“Do you not?” He arched a brow and extended a hand toward her.
Nika flinched, but his touch was nothing but gentle as it descended upon her cheek.
“What planet do you represent, Nika? For I am certain that you are no ambassador from Glorus.”
A chill slid down her spine as she forced her breathing to remain even. He did not lie about being the one to question her. Which would make this process entirely too difficult.
She did not answer him, but held his gaze without wavering.
“Perhaps that one is a bit complex to answer. Maybe I’ll start with an easier question?” he murmured and moved his fingers lightly down her jawline. “Was fucking me part of your job requirement?”
Inwardly she
flinched, but on the outside she let a slight smile curve her lips. Perhaps if she goaded him into losing control he would end this. Would snap and simply throttle her. Or at the very least find someone else to take over with the interview.
“Answer the question,” his voice came out more harshly.
Wetting her lips with her tongue, she lifted her shoulders in an attempt at a shrug. “Why reply to a question you already know the answer to?”
The rage she expected to come did not materialize. Instead his own lips curled upward. She moved her gaze to his eyes and saw that there was no humor there.
His fingers tightened around her chin. “I suppose a trained Rosabelle would be hard pressed to forget her training.”
“Indeed, it came in handy.” The words almost made her sick.
He waited a beat before answering. “Undeniably. I must applaud your oral skills in particular.”
So it was a game to him, she realized. He played along, likely seeing who would break first in their barbed words. By the gods, it would not be her.
“I’m surprised my oral skills would stand out among the many women who have had your cock in their mouth.” She pulled her chin from his grasp. “Surely they all blur together.”
“Ah, but they don’t, Nika. There is something so decadent about a Rosabelle. The talent you have in knowing just how to please a man. The training—”
“I am a trained fighter now!” she snarled, feeling her composure slipping. He knew just how to needle her.
“Yes. You are. And not half bad at that. You fight almost as well as you fuck.” He gave a soft laugh. “Almost.”
The anger in her belly exploded. She jerked at her wrists, letting out a growl of anger. The metal cuffs bit into her skin but she hardly felt it.
“Would you like a rematch?” she challenged. “Remove these bindings and we will see who is the better fighter.”
“No, I do not think that would be wise.”
She snorted and looked away from him. “Yes, it would not do to have both of your eyes blackened.”
“Nor to have your ribs nearly broken again,” he muttered, and he could not hide the emotion and disgust in his voice. His fingers trailed over her rib cage. “What kind of woman fights like a man? What drove you, Nika? What if I had killed you?”
“Impossible.”
“Actually, quite possible.”
She ground her teeth together and turned her gaze from him again. There was no point in continuing this discussion. But a part of her wished he would remove her restraints so she could indeed prove that she could bring him to his knees.
“Why do you need the specimens anyway, Nika?”
She closed her mouth tightly and turned her head to the side to look away from him.
“Do you sell it on a black market?”
Shutting her eyes, she tried to tune him out.
“Would you tell me that there was no pleasure for you while in my bed?”
Her eyes snapped back open to meet his considering stare, and she could feel the heat flooding her face.
“Ah, good. You will not deny the answer to that.”
No, she wouldn’t. But it didn’t stop her from answering peevishly, “You were in my bed.”
“Yes. So I was.” He leaned down until his face was just a breath away from hers. “And now you’re in mine.”
What? Confusion swept through her. Her gaze slid away, moving around the room. Surely he jested. Although, it did seem smaller than any interrogation room she could have imagined. And the fact she was chained to a bed had seemed a bit extraordinary. She had just assumed they meant to use sexual torture to extract information.
But what if he spoke the truth?
“I do not understand,” she said, her voice low. “Where am I?”
“I thought I just told you.”
“The military would not allow you to keep a prisoner in your chamber.”
His hand moved from her rib cage down to her belly, tracing slow circles. “No. They certainly would not.”
His words sank in. The blood slid from her face and she struggled to breathe. Her lips tried to form a response but no words would emerge. He had not turned her over to the military. And that would mean… She swallowed hard.
His mouth curved into a slight smile.
“You did not inform your superiors of me?” she inquired, a bit numbly.
Brendon did not reply, just held her gaze while his expression remained unreadable.
Her mind whirled rapidly. She tried to comprehend why he would have done such a thing, what his intentions could possibly be to have taken her back to his chamber instead of following orders.
“Why?” she choked out.
“I will turn you over.” His gaze slid over her body and, despite the calculating desire she saw there, a tremor rocked through her. “Eventually. When I do hand you over, I would like it to be with all their questions already answered—so no interrogation will be necessary.”
“And then I will be sentenced to death.”
His hand stilled in its stimulating caress over her belly and his gaze shifted to hers.
“Is that not what you wanted?”
Her chin lifted. “Yes. That is what I wanted.”
Brendon’s calm exterior vanished into a snarl. “Stop this belligerent prattle. Now who is the fool? Do you really wish to die?”
“What I wish is no longer important.”
“Martyring yourself, are you?” He barked a humorless laugh.
“And what about you?” Anger stewed in her now and she shook her head. “Do you not realize the trouble this could place you in? Having taken me? Hidden me? Do you not see the risks you take with your career?”
“You should not be worrying about me, Nika. If you had any sense you would fear for yourself and the days to come,” he said fiercely. His palm slid to her waist, toying with the fabric that covered her. “As we just established, the military does not know that I have captured you. Nobody knows where you are right now except me.”
Heat slid through her body and she drew in an unsteady breath. “Molly will suspect you.”
“Emmett will handle her.” He pushed the fabric of her shirt upward, exposing her stomach to the cool air in his chamber. “And I will handle you.”
“You will not touch me.”
“I already am touching you. Are you really in such a state of denial, Nika?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silver object. After depressing a button on it, a small knife slid out. “I can do whatever the hell I want to you. And nobody will even know to try and stop me.”
A whisper of unease ran through her as she eyed the glittering blade. Even knowing it was useless, she tugged at her wrists and tried to writhe away from him.
Brendon lowered the blade to the high neckline of her shirt and the tip just brushed the exposed skin of her throat. Nika froze, barely breathing and all too conscious of the sharp point that threatened to pierce through her skin if she moved even an inch.
Her gaze scoured his face in search of some hint of his intentions. It was only when he lifted his focus from her neck to look at her that she could see it. The fury that lay simmering just below the composed exterior.
“Yes, Nika, you are completely at my mercy.”
She held his gaze, even as a mix of hot and cold rushed through her.
Perhaps facing the military of Belton would have been preferable.
*
It was quite amazing, really, Brendon mused. That he could hold a knife so close to her throat and still there was not even a trace of fear in those beautiful blue-green eyes.
He’d removed her eye shields once he’d brought her back to his chamber, unable to spend one more moment staring into her black gaze.
The anger that had been stewing in his gut since last night still remained predominant. But as he’d sat into the early hours of the morning, watching her sleep, he’d been incensed to discover the desire he’d thought surely to be dead still smoldered.
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Even now, with her staring defiantly up at him, and after everything she’d done to deceive him, he was surprised to find he wanted her again.
But it wasn’t the soft, almost romantic urge to bed her like he’d had previously. No. This was primal to his core. Angry. Uninhibited.
He wanted to shove her thighs wide and plunge into her wet heat. Fuck her until she was screaming his name and begging for forgiveness, telling him why she’d done it. Why she’d lied. Why she’d pretended to care for him…
He let out a soft growl and his grip tightened on the knife. Her eyes closed and he knew for a moment she thought he would pierce her skin with the blade.
His control snapped.
Gripping the edge of her top, he slashed the knife through it. The fabric fell to the sides, but still clung to her body as her arms were bound above her head.
Nika let out a shaky gasp and turned her head to the side, the relief in her obvious by her now lax muscles.
“Completely at my mercy,” he muttered again thickly.
“You do not want to do this, Brendon.”
“On the contrary, love.” He mocked the once-used endearment. “I very much want to do this.”
His gaze lowered to her concave stomach and her bound breasts. “Amazing, really. That I could ever have mistaken you for a man.”
Her tone was hard as she said, “You mistook me for a boy.”
“So I did.” He carefully—so as not to cut her—worked the knife up beneath the band wound tightly around her breasts. “I obviously did not pay close enough attention.”
Nika let out the tiniest whimper of alarm before she bit her lip, her body completely still.
Lifting the knife against the fabric to distance the blade from her skin, Brendon gave a deft flick of his wrist and sliced through the top of the band, then made a few more slashes until he’d cut the fabric off of her.
Her breasts popped free uninjured. Small, but round and swollen. The tips were angry and red from being restrained.
She issued a barely audible groan, sounding like a mix of arousal and despair.
Brendon’s cock jerked against his trousers and he forced a slow, calming breath in. Turning the knife, he used the flat side to drag gently over one nipple. It puckered against the metal, the reddened tip of her breast seeming to reach and stroke the silver surface of the blade.