Deegan's Rescue: Survivors of Paradise Book 2 Page 5

  “I like it,” she told him. “Get used to it.”

  “That implies you’ll keep me around to enjoy it,” he murmured. “Which I like very much.”

  “Shuddup.”

  They snuggled for a while longer, just quietly holding each other, and it was nice. Comfortable. But after years of being on her own, Dee was quickly reaching her limit. She needed space and room to think.

  “I feel you tensing,” he said. “Preparing to run again, Deegan?”

  “I just need time alone. You’re so big, so intense—I’ve spent my life alone and it’s overwhelming.”

  He chuckled. “Fair enough.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Let me back in, though. Don’t lock the door.”

  She had a feeling he didn’t mean the door to her room (which she would be locking). “Goodbye, Viking.”

  ***

  Avoiding Tugarth was easier than Dee expected it to be. After kicking him out of her room, she spent time thinking. Her thoughts darted between Why Did I Do That and Never Again like a ping-pong-champion.

  Her plan? Stay so busy—and keep her schedule so erratic—that he’d be unable to find her. Easy-peasy. The humans bunked down close to each other, but they scattered throughout the day; Dee flitted around, helping however they needed. Mostly she did menial tasks now that the aliens were on board and could handle their own tinkering. Still, she didn’t mind the work, menial or not.

  The only problem was that she’d been running herself into the ground. She had headaches, body aches, and had somehow developed insomnia. Sleep, a treasured pastime, was now beyond her reach…it was terrible. She wasn’t one of those people who had to worry about dreams or restlessness. She’d always—always—been a hard sleeper. Her head hit the pillow and she was out.

  Except thoughts of Tugarth invaded her peace, keeping her awake and adding to the baggage under her eyes.

  Thankfully, no one commented on how crappy she looked. As long as she worked, they didn’t seem to notice how haggard she was. Lanie called her occasionally, wanting adjustments and improvements in engineering (mostly behind the Peacekeepers’ backs when the brutes were being stubborn). The woman was brilliant, almost intuitive when it came to the alien tech, and she kept Dee on her toes. Those were her favorite tasks by far, and she prayed every day for work with Lanie. In the week since her last encounter with Tugarth, tinkering was the only activity able to keep her mind occupied…until it was time to lay her head down at night.

  Dee’s fellow humans knew she was avoiding her suitor, and they all pitched in to help when he managed to get close. Paul, the unmitigated imp, screeched and fangirled over Tugarth’s muscles. Lanie would draw him into deep discussions about engineering, often cajoling him into helping her while Dee scampered away unnoticed. Even Brandon stepped in, distracting the big guy by asking after the Medbed her Viking had invented.

  …which led to an interesting discovery: fifteen humans had aneurisms. The Medbed was able to heal everyone, but regular checkups were advised by the Peacekeeper Medik, Henta, until they figured out why there was such an inordinate number of them.

  The obvious answer? The virus that had killed so many humans on Paradise Colony wasn’t dormant in the survivors who were enslaved. Somehow it was still after them, like it was determined to claim every single human as a casualty.

  Brandon called a physical, in-person meeting about it, and everyone agreed to rotate through the machine on a weekly basis, especially since Dee wasn’t the only one experiencing pain after hivemind. Candi was working with Henta to see if there was a link between the virus, joining in hivemind, and the aneurisms. In the meantime, they were taking every conceivable precaution.

  Which brought Dee out of hiding and into a Medbed.

  Henta, the rat, must have let Tugarth know when she went in for her weekly exam, because her Viking was waiting for her after the scan. There was a moment of pleasure upon seeing him—a flare of arousal that took her by surprise when it instantly soaked her panties—and then a twinge of guilt ruined the moment.

  He looked just as bad as she did. His milk-pale skin should have been vibrant, the purple undertones giving him an ethereal appeal, but he seemed…dull. A bit lifeless. His grey pallor was worrying, but so was the heartbroken cast of his features.

  “Hi,” she whispered. Her poor hands twisted in front of her, white-knuckled with nerves.

  “Are you going to keep hiding?” he asked.

  Dee winced. “I doubt you’d let me.”

  He sighed and dropped his chin to his chest. He looked…exhausted. “I have no interest in forcing you to accept me, Deegan. I want you, but I also want you to want me. It’s become clear how foolish I was in that pursuit.” He looked up and met her gaze. “I’ll not chase you anymore.”

  Dee held back a gasp by swallowing it—but the lump settled in her stomach and soured. Was that what she really wanted, for her Viking to give up the hunt? Her heart lurched. No—it cost her pride to admit it, but no, she didn’t want him to give up.

  She just didn’t want to get hurt again.

  Tugarth, taking her silence for acceptance, turned to leave.

  He was halfway to the door by the time she found her voice. “Please,” she whispered. “Don’t.”

  He turned back. “Don’t what, bright one?”

  The space between them was too wide. Dee gathered her courage and went to him, stepping up close so she could soak in his scent and body heat. “Don’t stop. I’m scared, Viking, but I’ll stop hiding. I promise.”

  He cupped her jaw and then leaned down to kiss her forehead. The tender gesture eased her fears; he wouldn’t hurt her, not her fiercely gentle Viking. “My brave one.”

  She liked that, even more than ‘bright one’, but it was a lie. Before the invasion, she’d been independent, wild, and quirky. Dee had loved facing down challenges, both physical and mental. Jaunts up a mountain with nothing but freeze-dried food and fresh air? No problem. Mechanical doohickey on the fritz? Bring it on.

  Until she’d discovered her quivering, cowardly core while under Kinnip’s care.

  Since then, she’d resigned herself to surviving. Her gun—which she’d taken back from Paul with threats to his family jewels should he ever kidnap it again—was her safety blanket, kept close for when nightmares struck. With a weapon close at hand, she was Rambina, Xena, or Obi Wan Deenobi. Without her gun…?

  Dee snorted and pressed her face into Tugarth’s chest. “I’m not brave,” she whispered.

  He tilted her chin up. “Why would you say that? You survived, Deegan. Every day, despite your fears, you survive again. That is bravery.”

  She heaved a sigh. He said the sweetest things. “Shuddup and kiss me.”

  His grin was quick, transforming him from tiredly fierce to adorable. How a hulking mountain could be adorable was really beyond comprehension, but he pulled it off. Probably had something to do with his dimples.

  This kiss was nothing like the frantic ones from her room; he lowered his mouth to hers slowly, brushing their lips with the softest of touches and then pulling back. Her Viking, the tease. A little whimper escaped when he did it again, the kiss so light it might have been the wind instead of his mouth.

  “Stop torturing me!” she demanded, reaching up to pull him down. Or trying to pull him down. It was the first time since she’d decided to avoid him that she felt grounded—whole. She was thrumming with need and he was holding back! Damn it!

  “You’re due a little payback, my brave, bright Charm.”

  The sexual tension was sucked into a gaping, colorless void as Dee reared back from Tugarth. “No!” she shouted, pointing her finger at him. “No, no, no! I’m not your Charm!”

  “Not yet,” he corrected, seeming unconcerned by her outburst.

  Dee glared. “I need to get back to work.”

  The stupid Viking caught her before she’d gone two steps. “I thought you weren’t going to hide anymore, Deegan?”

  “I’m not hidi
ng, I’m leaving before I attempt to strangle you. There’s a difference.” She sniffed, miffed at his ignorance.

  He leaned down and nuzzled her neck. “If avoiding me was as challenging as tracking you down, we’re both due a break. And I’ve missed you.”

  Damn alien always said the perfect thing. She relaxed back against him, cocooned in his enormous arms. “I’ll spend time with you on one condition,” she bartered.

  “What condition is that?” he asked.

  “You stop calling me your Charm.” It bothered her—really, truly panicked her—when he did that. She didn’t want to belong to him or anyone else again. Not for a long while…maybe not ever.

  She’d always pictured herself with a gaggle of kids, but she wasn’t a hundred percent sure that humans and Peacekeepers could breed together, so that dream was a moot point. Besides, if ever her biological clock started dinging, she’d worrying about tying herself to a male then.

  Tugarth sighed. “It won’t matter if I call you my Charm or not. In my mind, we’re well on our way to being lifebonded.”

  It was said so matter-of-factly that Dee could only gape. He was staring down at her, lips quirked in a smile, looking downright pleased. Smug, even. Gone was the dull lifelessness and grey. In fact…

  “Are you—” she bit her lip and squinted at him, trying to decide how to tactfully ask about his size and coloring. Finally, she decided to just spit it out. “Are you getting bigger? And darker?”

  “It’s my bloodlust,” he said. As if that made everything better.

  “Isn’t bloodlust when you want to kill something and bathe in their blood?” she asked, backing away from him. The purple that was normally just an undertone was suddenly much more prominent—the effect was creepy. His white, lightly furred skin stretched tight over faint purple-black veins that throbbed and pulsed all over his body. It looked like there was a demonic spider web growing just beneath his skin.

  And his muscles! Even as she watched, he grew larger. The thick, textured skin bulged as he flexed. He didn’t transform into the Hulk, but his already impressive physique looked supercharged.

  “Until we’re lifebonded, and probably for a while afterward, I’ll stay in bloodlust. It’s nature’s way of protecting my Charm until I have time to establish a safe nest and routine. It might even last until you’re pregnant.” He cocked his head. “Of course, then I’ll have even more reason to stay in bloodlust.”

  Dee gulped. “This is a wee bit scary.”

  Tugarth frowned down at his enlarged body. “I can’t help it—and it doesn’t change anything about me, Deegan. It just makes it easier to protect you.”

  “When you were telling me, uh, us—you know, humans—about your breed, you said that Abbaleer only puffed up when they needed to protect their bonded. Staying this way all the time, that’s a bit different.”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know if I will stay this way, but I’m hoping I do. Being able to protect you is important, and it’ll keep other suitors away.”

  Other suitors? Dee sighed. The male was a nutjob. “I don’t have other suitors, Viking.”

  “And now you won’t.” He looked so damn smug about it.

  Dee waved her hand, brushing off the topic. “Anyway, back to what I was saying before—please stop calling me your Charm. I’m not ready for that.” She might never be ready for that.

  Tugarth pulled her back into his arms, wrapping her in his warmth and his…scent.

  Dee pressed her face against him and purred. He smelled so good. The purple veins were creepy, but he was right—her Viking was the same male, just bigger and badder. The baddest. A total badass. And her panties were melting.

  Stars above and below, she was on fire for him. Dee bit at his chest—which wasn’t bare, unfortunately, since he had access to clothes aboard the ship that hadn’t been available on the moon—and then nuzzled where she’d nipped. She hummed happily, angling her body so her breasts also had contact.

  She moaned. “I need you.” She wrapped one of her legs around his waist and ground her clit down, almost whimpering at the lightning-fast demands of her libido. “Please, Tugarth.”

  “My eager Charm,” he groaned. He picked her up, which gave her the opportunity to wrap both legs around his waist, and then he walked into the washroom. The door clicked shut behind them, and he locked it. “I’ve missed this,” he murmured, swooping in to kiss her. The teasing was gone, replaced by raw desire. Their open-mouthed kisses were wet and sloppy, but beyond sexy.

  Dee humped his cock through their clothes, desperate to the point of tears. A warning—a scared, frightened warning—blared in the back of her mind, scolding her for spreading her legs so quickly again. It wasn’t like her, but she didn’t have any control. Her pussy was throbbing, and it hurt. It ached! She rocked her clit against him and sighed at the pleasure.

  “Slow, my bright one. We have to go slow,” he muttered. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  Fuck slow! She bit down on his shoulder, anchoring herself, and then reached down to attack their pants; hers were gone in an instant, the loose material falling to her ankles before she easily kicked them off, but his were harder to get rid of. Tugarth growled and groaned, obviously loving the bite, and swatted at her hands…but she prevailed. The hindrance dropped away, and she gyrated until they were lined up and she was sliding down his length.

  “Deegan!” Tugarth shouted. “My Charm!”

  She never let go of his shoulder, too afraid he’d pull back and insist on going slow; she tasted blood as she bucked her hips, slamming down so that her pelvis was flush against his. The contact shot her off into her first orgasm, rocking her world and easing the throbbing enough for her to sag in his arms.

  “Hold on, Deegan,” he whispered, though his words were made moot by the beefy arms locked around her. She felt safe. So safe…so…

  He pulled his dick out, sliding through her swollen folds slowly—and then thrust back in. The white-hot pleasure was enough to make her scream. She let her head fall back as he continued to slowly pull out before pounding back in, her body limp in his arms.

  Her throat was raw within minutes, but she didn’t stop screaming. It felt too good. Unbelievably, life-altering good. Despite the quivering mess her last orgasm had made of her muscles, Dee tightened her grip around his waist and leaned up to whisper in his ear.

  “I want you to fuck me harder, Viking. I want it all.”

  He groaned and reached a hand up to tangle in her hair. Their mouths met in another sloppy, wet kiss, and Dee porn-star moaned into his mouth. She wanted more—another bone-melting orgasm (or five) at the very least.

  And then he was gone, pulling totally out and setting her down on her own two feet. She whimpered, ready to cry, but he turned her. She stumbled but caught herself on the washroom counter while sending an array of toiletries to the floor. Tugarth put one of his enormous hands between her shoulder blades and pushed gently, bending her over.

  She spread her legs, eager for the new position. “Please!”

  Without waiting for another invite, her Viking thrust back into her. The full-to-capacity feeling was delicious. It burned on a razor’s edge of pain and pleasure. Dee dropped her head down and arched her back, wanting more.

  Tugarth gripped her waist, holding her still as he fucked her, and the hard, fast pace was enough to rattle her teeth. And still she wanted more; she bucked and writhed under him, wordlessly begging for more. He obliged, slipping a hand underneath her to rub at her clit.

  Dee screamed until her throat closed up, her whole body seizing.

  Tugarth’s shout followed, loud and primal, and then he thrust one last time.

  The flood of hot semen into her body was soothing, a balm after the rough treatment, and she sighed in contentment. Her Viking’s harsh breathing as he leaned over her back was erratic, but he still pressed gentle kisses to her spine.

  “You’re incredible,” he told her.

  She thought about responding,
but she was boneless; even her jaw was inoperable. So instead of nuzzling him and cuddling like she wanted, she just lay there—sprawled over the counter like a really sweaty limp noodle.

  Tugarth chuckled and picked her up—bridal style, of course—and sank to the floor with her in his arms. He kissed her forehead, and then his lips roved her face. A gentle brush against her eyelids, her nose, her cheek. “You’re my bright one, lighting up my world simply by existing. My brave one, surviving against all odds. And now, my biter.” He chuckled and nipped at her lips. “My biter…desperate for my cock.”

  Dee gasped, ignoring his words as she focused on his bare chest. “I’m so sorry!” The teeth marks were deep—the ragged grooves bloody.

  “I’m not. It’s something a Charm would do to her mate, so I’ll cherish the mark.” He nipped at her lip once more, holding the bit longer before kissing away the sting. “Anytime you feel the need, just jump on me again.”

  Dee blushed. “I don’t know what happened. One minute I was fine, the next…I don’t know.” She reached up and rubbed at her head, a little disturbed by her own actions. “You smelled so good, and suddenly sex was all I could think…” Dee trailed off, thoughts stuttering.

  He did smell good. Delicious. Irresistible.

  And he’d smelled just as good the first time.

  Her breath shuddered and it felt like ice crept through her veins. If the Lu’O could hike a woman’s arousal with their sperm, and the Gkiven could spear a woman, and entrap her, with their tail…it made sense that the Abbaleer also had some sort of sensual weapon.

  Like scent.

  Hivemind, she thought. Despite the danger, she needed hivemind.

  Without giving him warning, Dee reached for the imaginary beehive. The ghostly thing dropped instantly over the real world, distorting colors and shapes.

  It’s me, Dee called out. I think I’m in trouble!

  What’s happened? came the response, echoed a hundred times over. Are you injured?