His to Reclaim Page 9

  She charged into the forest, willing her body to finish the transition. But even if it did, thinking was still difficult. Her head seemed to be filled with cotton, everything seemed delayed, like she’d had a few drinks. This was how the women had died? Drugged and barely functioning? Running for their lives?

  Hunter. Please, where are you?

  The first shot rang out, and she roared with a mix of terror and rage. He’d missed. But she could hear him…and he was close.

  A whimper escaped her, and she plunged on, her body almost fully changed into jaguar form now. But it probably didn’t matter…she was as good as dead.

  *

  Hunter froze at the sound of a riffle being fired. Son of a bitch. The bastard was already hunting her.

  He ran faster, harder, using all his senses to find them. He picked up Gemma’s scent first and then Delmore’s.

  A second shot rang out, and he heard Gemma’s terrified growl in response. Thank God. He hadn’t hit her yet.

  Spotting a flash of orange off in the distance, his blood warmed. Delmore was a fool for not making an effort to blend in with his environment. And it would cost him his life. Just as long as he could get to her in time.

  *

  The second shot pinged off a tree next to Gemma and she screamed inside, trying to increase her pace. It wasn’t easy. Her body was pretty much refusing to obey her mind’s orders. Whatever he’d shot in her was a powerful substance.

  She dove between two trees, seeing the road up ahead. Relief spread quickly, and she lunged forward.

  “Here kitty, kitty.”

  Her chest tightened; she couldn’t breathe. And just like that, the relief was extinguished and defeat rode her soul hard. Delmore was right behind her; she could hear his unhurried footsteps.

  Hunter had been right, she was a fool for going in here alone today. But at least the ESA had Jeffrey’s confession on tape. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes. She hated leaving this earth when she’d only just found Hunter again. It wasn’t fair.

  “Turn around.”

  He was literally right behind her.

  “Turn around,” he ordered again, amusement in his tone. “I want to see the pretty pussy I’m about to kill.”

  She drew in a slow breath. He could kill her, but not before she made an attempt on his life.

  Gemma turned, and the long barrel of the rifle filled her gaze. With a growl, she leapt at him.

  The rifle fired at the same moment he fell to the side. There was an enraged roar as dark fur mixed with the orange of Jeffrey’s jacket.

  She moved to the side, heart pounding as she watched Hunter struggle with Jeffrey. Jeffrey raised the rifle between them, brushing the underside of Hunter’s body.

  No. Her world tilted, and she waited for the shot, but it never came.

  The rifle fell to the ground and Jeffrey’s body went limp, blood seeping into the dirt beside him.

  Hunter unwrapped his jaws from the dead man’s neck and stepped back, shifting back to human form, wiping the blood from his mouth.

  “Gemma,” he knelt down beside her, brows drawn together. “Angel, are you okay?”

  Her head spun, relief weakening her. Or maybe it was the drug. She whimpered, wanting to shift, but not able to force her body to. Crawling toward him, more dizziness assailed her. Her legs wobbled, and then blackness rushed up to claim her.

  * * * *

  Gemma stirred, realizing right away she was back into human form. Her legs moved against soft silk, and she blinked her eyes open.

  A cream-colored ceiling was above her. Shifting her gaze, she took in the unfamiliar room. Inhaling the scent deeply, she twisted her head on the pillow. Relief washed through her. This was Hunter’s room.

  “You’re awake.”

  Pushing herself up in bed, the sheet fell away from her body, exposing one breast before she could grab it again.

  “Please, my love, don’t cover yourself on my account.” Hunter laughed softly and crossed the room to sit beside her. He pulled the sheet from her grasp, easing it back down so he could again look at her. “I’m sorry he hurt you.”

  Hunter cupped a breast, tracing a finger over the scratch mark across her chest from when Jeffrey had ripped her dress from her body.

  The tenderness in his soft words flooded her eyes with tears. “He didn’t get to…he would have forced me, but then he found the bug.”

  “I know.”

  She swallowed hard, emotion forming a thick lump in her throat. “I shouldn’t have…I didn’t—”

  “Shh.” He brushed a kiss across her lips and her eyes closed. “It’s over now. Delmore is dead, and the ESA is putting together a case against all those involved in the ring as we speak.”

  “You saved my life,” she whispered and moved her body so her breast fit tighter in his hand. The need to have him touch her consumed her, burning white hot in her center. “Remind me I’m alive, Hunter…”

  Desire flickered in his gaze, and he pushed her back gently on the mattress, dragging the sheet all the way off her body.

  Straddling her body, he leaned down to close his mouth over one of her breasts, sucking the nipple deep.

  She buried her fingers into his hair, her body twisting on the bed beneath him.

  “Beautiful,” he murmured, transferring his attention to her other breast. “So beautiful. I don’t deserve you, angel.”

  “You do.” She gasped when he bit down lightly on her nipple. “And you have me.”

  He lifted his head, and possessiveness flared in his gaze. “Yes. I do. And thank God you’re alive.”

  His hand slid over her belly to cup the mound of her sex. Sparks shot through her body and she bit her lip.

  “So hot. Warm.” He slid down the bed to lie between her legs, his warm breath feathering on her inner thighs.

  Gemma gripped the bedspread and let her head fall back against the pillow. Closing her eyes, she waited for the first stroke of his tongue.

  It didn’t come. Instead the rough pad of his finger found her clit and began moving in slow circles.

  Her chest rose with a slow breath, and her ass clenched against his knowing touch. Only he could make her body respond like this, turn her brain to mush.

  “I love watching you get creamy for me,” he murmured and she felt him probe her with two fingers.

  She squeezed her eyes closed tighter, her breathing more erratic. Inside. Oh, God, she wanted those fingers inside her.

  He teased her for a moment, running his digits up and down her slit and spreading her moisture while continuing the agonizing assault on her clit.

  A frustrated gasp escaped her, though she tried to hold it back. Her hips lifted against his hand.

  “Easy. I’ll take care of you, but first I want to enjoy you.”

  He probed her entranced again and then slid the two fingers slowly inside her.

  She released a shuddering breath. He pressed deeper, sliding over the walls of her vagina while his thumb continued its maddening rotations.

  The sounds of her wetness filled the room when he began to steadily thrust his fingers in and out of her.

  “You feel so good.” He kissed her thigh again. “And you taste even better.”

  His tongue found her clit, teasing the swollen flesh and causing her hips to buck in response.

  “Mmm. Yeah, just like that, angel.” He flicked her clit again, faster this time.

  The ache between her legs increased, and she could feel herself grow wetter against his fingers.

  He closed his mouth over her clit and suckled her, moving his fingers deeper and harder inside her now.

  “Yes. Oh, God.” Gemma reached blindly for his hair, clutching at the strands while rocking her body against his mouth. “Oh…oh…please.”

  His tongue flicked over her again. Faster and harder. Her stomach clenched and she gasped, her ass lifting off the bed.

  He followed the bucking of her body, his mouth and fingers never leaving her.
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  Behind her closed lids, the light spiraled upward with her growing pleasure.

  “Oh.” She tugged at his hair as her world exploded, clenching her thighs around his head while her body trembled.

  His fingers slowed to a tender exploration, his mouth suckling her gently through the orgasm.

  Sweaty and weak, she sank boneless into the mattress, gasping, her eyes still closed.

  Hunter moved to lie between her thighs, nudging her legs open wider.

  She opened her eyes again and found him watching her with steady intensity.

  “You told Delmore you loved me,” he said quietly. “Did you mean it?”

  Her throat tightened with emotion, and her pulse slowed, before quickening again. She licked her lips and shook her head. “Never doubt it, Hunter. You’ve not only claimed my body, but my heart. My soul.”

  His mouth tightened, pain and regret in his gaze. “From day one I knew you were my mate. If I could change the past five years—”

  “But we can’t. We’re together now, and that’s all that matters.” Her heart ached for the years he’d been gone and the fact that he couldn’t seem to forgive himself.

  He gripped her hips, his cock probing her entrance. “Be more than my mate, Gemma. Be my wife.”

  Tears flooded her eyes, and she managed to choke out a watery, “Yes.”

  His eyes closed. “I came home from being dead a year ago. But having you in my life is the only way I truly feel alive.” He pressed his forehead to hers and plunged deep into her body. “I love you, Gemma.”

  “I know,” she sighed. Gripping his shoulders, she lifted to meet his thrusts, whispering, “I’m yours, Hunter. Always.”

  “Always,” he repeated and laid claim to her mouth.

  The End

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  Take Me

  The Rosabelles, Book 1

  Shelli Stevens

  Chapter 1

  By the gods, she was late. Talia stepped off the walkatron, ignoring the electronic voice that blared a reminder that she was tardy for her next scheduled meeting with the Council. Dragging a towel across her forehead, she headed toward the bathing room.

  The physical wellness hour was the one time during her day that she absolutely savored, that she considered her hour. Complete isolation and privacy, taking out her frustrations and wants in the only way she was allowed. Forty-five minutes of running on the walkatron, until her legs were sore and her mind rid of all the dreams that could never be.

  She could simply be Talia, a twenty-two-year-old woman blessed—or cursed—to be one of the few dozen women alive and well living on the planet. She was no longer Natalia, the well-pampered and well-used commodity of the Council. A highly educated, groomed plaything for the most powerful men on the planet. In here she could escape the reality of her life as a Rosabelle.

  Her mouth tightened and she shook her head.

  Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Every woman blessed to be alive on this planet bears the same reality as you. Only most do not have your luxuries.

  She was envied by the other Rosabelles, as well she should be. Though every woman alive was groomed and sold to the highest bidder, she was the only woman who now kneeled at the feet of the Governing Council.

  Pausing to look in the mirror, she toyed with a strand of red hair that had escaped the severe knot on top of her head. Her lips twisted downward. Such freedom that strand of hair had. A freedom that was never to be. She pulled the hair taut and tucked it back into the expected knot on her head.

  “Mistress Natalia, you must begin your bathing ritual.” The male voice rang out through the bathroom.

  Her stomach dropped as she met the bored obsidian gaze of her male servant who waited in the corner. And now the return to reality. She turned around and approached the large basin, already filled with near-scalding water.

  “Did you enjoy your run?” Dane asked, taking her arms and urging them above her head.

  “It was quite lovely as always, thank you.” She waited as he unfastened, then unwound the strip of fabric that bound her breasts.

  “You always seem to look forward to that hour.” He grimaced. “I don’t tolerate exercise, or sweating. The physical wellness hour would be my least favorite time of the day.” He dropped to his knees in front of her and untied the fastenings at each side of her hip, plucking the fabric away and leaving her completely naked. “Then again, I see nothing wrong with being surrounded by the most powerful men on the planet who want only for me to please them.”

  “Yes, now why doesn’t that surprise me?” Talia rolled her eyes as he cupped the mound of her sex and ran a thumb down her slit.

  He nodded in approval. “Still smooth. The treatments last summer appear to have killed the hair follicles in this region.” Standing again he gestured toward the bath. “Let us begin.”

  Talia climbed into the basin, wincing as the water stung her legs. Protesting the temperature would only gain her disapproval from her owners. As with every Rosabelle, she was to be cleansed with the hottest of water that would not damage her skin, but would leave it pink and clean.

  She sank all the way under, rinsing all the sweat off her body and wetting every square inch of flesh. When she sat back up, Dane held a sponge drizzled with honey and a creamy, moisturizing soap.

  “Hands in the air, please,” he ordered.

  Raising her hands above her head, she laced her fingers and closed her eyes. The first stroke of the sponge moved over her breasts and her nipples tightened. She went through the bathing ritual daily, with a man who would never be aroused by her, yet her body continued to respond to the silky touch of the sponge on her flesh.

  “Jeez, Talia, you’re so damn responsive. The Council members must love you.”

  She bit back a sigh. Yes. The Council members did indeed love her. Although, love was probably a poor choice of words. They loved her body and her skills as a Rosabelle. Never had she, nor would she likely, feel the warmth of another’s love.

  Her gut clenched and the familiar sense of despair and feeling trapped washed over her. The recurring this can’t be my life moment that threatened to rip apart her soul.

  Dane moved the sponge between her legs and heat speared through her body.

  “No, love, don’t get yourself aroused. That’s the Councils job. It will only anger them if you arrive already prepared.”

  A spark of irritation ran through her. Of course it would. Gods help her if she were to be aroused when she wasn’t in the Council’s presence.

  Every moment of her life revolved around pleasing men—but only the select three men who owned her. Anyone outside the Council and Dane was forbidden from ever touching or even gazing upon her naked flesh.

  And never was she allowed to touch herself. A Rosabelle caught touching herself was to be punished in the most severe manner, where she would only begin to wish for death. Though never would she actually be killed, for to do so would mean one less woman on a planet where there were already so few.

  Her expression turned bitter. Life on the endangered species list could be a real pain in the ass.

  “Close your eyes while I wash your hair.”

  She obediently closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment where her hair was let free down her back. So rarely was that allowed; only if one of the Council members requested it so. Otherwise, she was to wear it in a knot atop her head.

  Dane massaged her scalp and worked the cleanser in her hair into a lather.

  “Rinsing now. Keep the eyes closed.”

  Warm water sluiced over her head, down her face, and over her breasts.

  “Very nice, love. All done. You can get out now.”

  Talia stepped out of the tub and into the fluffy soft towel that Dane held. He wrapped it around her, patting her down. Once she was dry he pulled her hair again into the severe knot atop her head, and then began oiling and lotioning her body.

  A half hour later her body was dewy and perfumed. He
r lips were topped with shiny pink gloss and her lashes curled and inked. She donned a pale blue silk dress with sleeves to the wrists, an empire waist, and a low bodice.

  Dane gave her an appreciative glance. “Look at how nicely you’ve cleaned up.”

  “Only with your help, as always.” She gave a slight smile; the movement felt awkward as the muscles around her mouth stretched. When was the last time she’d smiled?

  “Well, I do try. Now, we should go, because I have a lunch date with a certain warrior in training.”

  They left the bathing chambers and she cast him a sideways glance. “I take it things are well between you and Thomas?”

  “Quite well.” The slight flush in his cheeks and brightening of his eyes surprised her. Perhaps Dane was developing an attachment to the younger man?

  On a planet with so few women, it was not uncommon for men to take other men as lovers.

  They moved into a busy corridor, passing a general.

  “Good day, mistress.” He bowed slightly, his hungry gaze moving over her.

  Talia curtsied and lowered her eyes demurely. The general was just one of the many men who would never be allowed to touch her.

  “The Council has already begun meeting for the day.” Dane cast a nervous glance her way. “They will not be pleased to find you late.”

  “I’m sure they will not,” she agreed mildly and glanced through the window in the corridor down to the city below. Men roamed the streets, their clothes tattered as they begged for handouts. They would not be outside for long, though; the air outside was not safe to breathe for long periods of time.

  She bit back a sigh. Even with the dangerous environment, she wished just once to be able to experience life outside the Council’s headquarters. Once as a child, she’d been taken outside, but the memory was so vague she couldn’t tell what was real and what was simply made up in her head from watching the teletron.

  But that is not your life, it never will be. She lifted her chin, squelching back the bite of loneliness. Turning her gaze back to the corridor, it locked on a pair of dark brown eyes.