Galactic Gladiators Box Set 2, page 46
He’d stayed by her side in Medical, and now she rested in his bed, in his room. The healers had said there was nothing more they could do, and that it was up to her now.
She was a fighter, his Winter. She would wake. If she didn’t…
He heard the door, and a second later, Galen stepped up beside him.
“You need some rest,” Galen said.
“I’ll rest when she is awake.”
“You’re not eating or sleeping—”
“Lore forces food into me. I nap in the chair.” Nero turned back to look at the bed. She looked so small nestled in it, covered by his furs. So still and so beautiful.
Nero was desolate inside. She’d risked her life to save him and the others. Somehow, this small woman had thawed the cold recesses of his body, his heart, his soul.
If she didn’t wake…
“When I first met her, I told her she was weak.” Nero choked on the words. “I had no idea what real strength was until I met her. She taught me about having the courage to truly risk yourself.” He met Galen’s gaze. “Not your body, but…” He pressed his fists to his chest.
Understanding filled Galen’s eyes.
“What if she doesn’t wake up?” Nero finally voiced the deepest fear inside him.
Galen reached out and touched his shoulder. “She’s a fighter, Nero. She survived the Thraxians, the Srinar, the fight rings, the desert, Catalyst. She’ll survive this, too. You’ve given her something to fight for.”
“I don’t deserve her.”
Galen snorted. “Probably not. So, are you going to give her up, then?”
“No,” Nero growled.
The tiniest flicker of a smile appeared on Galen’s lips. “All these women of Earth have grit. She’ll wake up.”
“Maybe there is an Earth woman for you,” Nero said.
Galen slapped him again, harder this time. “Hold your tongue, gladiator, or I’ll challenge you. I have enough people to look after without a female causing chaos in my life.”
Nero managed a smile. Galen didn’t know that every second of the chaos was worth it.
“Nero?”
The quiet, weak voice came from the bed. Hearing it made his heart leap. He spun, closing the distance in quick strides.
She was awake and looking at him.
Nero pressed one knee to the bed. “Winter.” He cupped her cheeks.
She blinked lazily. “Hey, barbarian.” She reached out and touched his stubbled jaw. “You need to shave. And your purple eyes are more beautiful than I’d imagined.”
He blinked. He realized she wasn’t wearing her vision device. It was sitting on the bedside table. “You can see?” Now he noticed that while one of her eyes was still milky white, the other was a brilliant blue.
She blinked rapidly. “I…I can see from my right eye.” She squeezed his hand. “I can see you. In color.”
Nero leaned down and pressed his mouth to hers. She kissed him back, responding to him instantly, and he pulled in the taste of her. Of the woman who had been born for him alone.
Winter strode out of Medical in a swish of skirts.
She found Nero waiting for her in the hall, leaning against the stone wall. God, she’d never tire of looking at him—bronze skin, dark hair, those intense and so beautiful purple eyes.
He straightened. “What did they say?”
“Clean bill of health.” She held her arms out and did a twirl. “They aren’t exactly sure what Catalyst’s light weapon did to mw, but it zapped some of the nerves in my right eye, and it is now fully functional…” Her smile dimmed a little. “My left eye is unlikely to recover. But I’m okay with that, I can see pretty well with one, and I can use the vision device, if I need to. I’m luckier than most.”
He moved fast, sweeping her into his arms. Her feet dangled off the ground, and she gave a surprised laugh.
“I love you as you are,” he said gruffly.
Winter went still against him. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of you telling me that.” She let her gaze roam his rugged face.
His hold on her tightened. “I told you endless times as we left Catalyst’s lair, and when you were resting in my bed.”
“It doesn’t count if I’m unconscious, Nero.”
“Then I’ll have to tell you again and again. Every day, for the rest of my life.”
She pressed her forehead against his. “I’d like that. I love you too, Nero. So much.”
“This entire place is filled with besotted gladiators and kissing couples,” a grumpy voice said.
They both turned. Zhim was scowling at them. Winter thought the information merchant looked tired, and his dark hair was mussed, like he’d been running his hands repeatedly through it.
“What has you in such a good mood?” Nero set Winter back on her feet.
Zhim shoved his hands in his pockets. “Galen asked me to find this human woman who helped you in Catalyst’s lair.”
“Ryan?” Winter’s heart skipped a beat. “Have you found her? Or the location of Zaabha? Or any leads on Dayna?”
Zhim’s mouth twisted. “No. There has been no information on Dayna, and trying to find Zaabha is like chasing a myth. There is so much fiction mixed with crumbs of fact. It makes it hard to separate the two.” He ran his hand through his hair. “And I’ve tried to make contact with this Ryan.”
“And?”
“No success yet.” A gleam entered the man’s fascinating, multicolored eyes. “But I’m not giving up. I am the best.”
Winter smiled, and caught Nero rolling his eyes. “Thank you, Zhim.”
“We will leave you to it, information merchant.” Nero wrapped his arm around Winter. “We have other things to do.”
As he yanked her down the hall, she managed to wave goodbye to Zhim. She found herself practically jogging to keep up with Nero’s long strides.
“What’s the rush, barbarian?” She was breathless.
He tugged her into his bedroom. Their room, she amended. He’d given the order earlier that she was moving into his room.
He slammed the door closed behind them, and then backed her up against the wood. When his hands bunched in her skirts, pushing the fabric up, she gasped. Desire was damp heat between her legs.
“The rush is that I need you.” His voice was deep and gruff. “You finally have clearance from Medical, and now I need to be inside you.”
She felt the air swirl around her bare legs. “Oh. Well, then.”
He pushed her skirts to her waist, and soon his fingers were tearing her underwear away. He kissed her hard and she sank her hands into his hair, undulating against him. She felt the hard press of his cock against her belly.
He made a growling sound, his arms wrapping tightly around her. Suddenly, she found herself hauled across the room. He spun her around and pushed her against the back of the large leather couch in the center of the room.
The next second, she found herself bent over the back of the couch, her skirts pushed up over her back, and her bare bottom exposed. Big, callused palms caressed one cheek, then the other.
Then thick fingers delved between her legs, making her cry out.
“So pretty and wet.”
She heard the rustle of leather behind her, and knew he was opening his trousers. Anticipation was sharp, like a blade. A second later, he thrust into her.
His hands clamped onto her hips, and then he was thrusting inside her with hard, measured thrusts.
She pushed back against him. “I’m not fragile or weak, remember, Nero.”
“No. You’re mine.”
“Then give it to me harder, Nero. Faster.”
With a groan, he did as she asked. Soon, the room was filled with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh. God, he was so big and thick. She heard the husky little cries escaping her throat.
“Be mine,” he growled against her ear, his big body covering hers. “Be my mate, my partner, my woman, my heart.”
Warmth swelled in her chest. “Yes.”
“I have no clan, no kingdom—”
“I only want you, Nero.” She turned her head, their lips meeting. “I have nothing to offer you but myself and my love.”
He thrust into her a few more times and, a moment later, Winter came, her orgasm shooting through her like an explosion. She felt Nero’s fingers clamp on her hips, and then he was spilling himself inside her with a rough groan.
His mouth found hers, and he kissed her, wildly. Just the way a conquering barbarian should kiss.
When Winter could think again, she was still bent over the couch, trying to pull air into her laboring lungs. Her barbarian moved, scooping her up into his arms. He carried her to the bed and set her down. He started stripping her clothes off.
“I want to see you,” he said. “And I want to have you again.”
Her gaze dropped to the long cock that was already hardening once more. She lay back on the covers and smiled. “No complaints from me.”
He pressed a knee to the bed, his big, naked body looming over her. “I’m glad you used me for sex, Winter.”
“I’m pretty happy with how it worked out, too.” She helped him push his harness off his broad chest. “I think I’ll keep using you for sex. For the rest of our lives. Now, less talking and more action.”
He leaned down, a smile on his face. “Anything for you.”
I hope you enjoyed Winter and Nero’s story!
Galactic Gladiators continues with BEAST, starring wild blue alien warrior Vek and spaceship pilot Mia. Read on for a preview of the first chapter.
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Preview: Beast
An enraged roar woke her.
Mia Ross rolled, almost falling out of her bed. Where was she? It took her a second, scanning the shadowed room. Bedroom. House of Galen. Planet of Carthago.
Nowadays, it always took a moment for her to remember where she was when she first woke up. At least she wasn’t in a cell.
Mia scrambled up and crossed to a chair. She grabbed the tangle of clothes, separating them. Being abducted off her supply ship from Earth by alien slavers probably accounted for the confusion. She pulled her trousers on, hopping on one foot. Being forced into an underground fight ring on a lawless desert planet, then rescued by alien gladiators, then snatched again by a crazy tech guru who wanted to use her for her brainpower, then rescued again, probably had a little to do with it as well.
She pulled her shirt over her head. No one could blame a girl for waking up confused after everything she’d been through.
Another roar echoed through the hallway outside her room.
Mia raced out of her bedroom. It was the middle of the night, so the corridor was only lit by low lights set into the stone walls. As she hurried down the hallway, a door opened.
“Mia?”
She looked up and saw her friend and fellow human, Harper, standing in a doorway. “It’s okay, Harper. I’ve got it. Go back to bed.”
The former security specialist looked worried, her dark hair mussed by sleep. Suddenly, a big, tattooed gladiator appeared behind her.
“The guards can handle it, Mia,” Raiden said.
A big, naked, tattooed alien gladiator. Mia averted her gaze, and was glad that Harper was blocking most of her man’s body. The woman was one lucky lady. You didn’t have to spend much time with Harper and Raiden to see that they were perfect for each other.
“No, I can calm him down,” Mia said. “It’ll be fine.”
She hurried off before they tried to stop her. She jogged through the twists and turns of the House of Galen. The beautiful, warm stone walls were dotted with striking wall hangings made of red and gray fabric, all of them depicting gladiators fighting in the Kor Magna Arena.
Kor Magna was the largest city on the desert world of Carthago. It was famous for its gladiatorial arena, and for the human survivors from Fortuna Station, it was now home.
Reaching a set of stairs, she hurried down to the cells, giving her head an incredulous shake. God, her home was a gladiatorial house on an alien world. Earth and her life before felt very, very far away.
Her family would be equal parts horrified and curious. Mia smiled, a sweet pain piercing her chest. She missed them like crazy. She’d always been the odd one out in her big, overachieving family, but she’d never doubted that they’d loved her.
She knew they all missed her. Her renowned human-rights lawyer mother, her billionaire construction company CEO father, and her three siblings. Her two sisters were doctors, and her brother was a hotshot entrepreneur. And then there’d been Mia, the baby. She’d had so many careers that she’d always left her family baffled and confused.
She jumped down the last few steps, and the sound of a crash and the splintering of wood ahead made her pick up speed. Mia had never found her perfect career. Her last job had been as a spaceship pilot, and she’d liked it, and was good at it. She might have even stuck at it this time…if she hadn’t been snatched by the Thraxian slavers
For a second, her stomach did a slow, jittering roll. She remembered the terrible moment the alien ship had filled her viewscreen—the screams, the horrible crunch of metal, the desperate whine of failing engines.
She shook her head, shaking the images away. At the end of the hall, two guards stood near a cell. Both were dressed in fighting leathers, muscled chests bare, and gray cloaks falling down their backs. Swords were sheathed at their sides. The younger guard had a concerned look on his face, but the older one was stone-faced, his hard gaze on the cell.
From inside came another wild roar, followed by a crash.
The young guard looked up, relief crossing his face. “Hi, Mia.”
“Open the door,” she asked.
The older guard frowned at her. “He’s bad tonight. He’s not responding at all. I don’t think you should go in there.”
“Open the door, please,” she said calmly.
The man hesitated, before he reluctantly unlocked the door. Mia stepped into the cell.
It was a large, simple space, but comfortable. There was a doorway into the adjoining bathroom, a bunk pressed against the back wall, and a table and chairs—or the remains of them, at least. They were now mostly splintered shards.
And in the center of the room, was one wild, out-of-control, blue-skinned alien.
God, he was something to look at. He towered over her, although that wasn’t unusual on this planet. Most people around here were way over her own five foot, one-and-a-half inches. He had dark-blue skin, and his muscled chest and arms were covered in what looked like black, swirling tattoos. But Mia knew he’d been born with the markings, and they were as much a part of him as his skin. And fascinatingly enough, the designs changed with his mood.
Like right now. The marks were turning dark black, the way they always did when he was in a rage.
And muscles. He had so many muscles. At the moment, they were huge and bulging. His long, black hair was in a tangle, and a dark beard covered his face.
There was no doubting he was scary and dangerous, but she couldn’t pull her gaze off him.
“Vek.”
He spun. His face was contorted, his chest heaving. His golden eyes glowed with a fierce light.
“It’s Mia.” She kept her voice low, calm. “You’re safe.”
He showed no hint of recognition. He growled, then spun, and slammed his fist into the stone wall. A dusty cloud of pulverized rock filled the air.
Sympathy flooded her. He’d been captured as a boy, and forced into the underground fight rings. He’d had a lifetime of being pumped full of drugs to increase his aggression, and being forced to participate in fights to the death.
There had been no hugs, no loving touches, no simple decency for Vek.
But he’d survived. Just like she had.
Despite an upbringing that would turn the gentlest soul into a murderous killer, he’d saved her. Twice.
Now Mia was returning the favor. She took a step closer. “You’re in the House of Galen, and—”
He charged.
Mia knew the intimidation tactic, and held her ground. His big body pressed against her, and he loomed over her, his hot breath ruffling her short hair. He was over a foot taller than her, and he always made her feel so tiny. He lowered his head, making a low growl again in his throat. Involuntarily, she took one step back, and felt the stone wall hit her shoulder blades.
Vek pressed his face to the side of her neck and drew in a long breath.
“It’s me,” she murmured. “You’re okay, Vek.”
Another growl, but it was quieter, less furious.
He pressed his arms to the wall above her head, caging her in. She forced herself to stay calm, but she was always conscious of the fact that with one simple swipe of his huge hand, he could snap her like a twig.
Vek breathed deep, and she felt the brush of his warm lips on her skin. She shivered.
God, now was not the time for her body to remind her that she was insanely attracted to a wild, alien man with blue skin.
“Vek?”
His big body shuddered. “Mia.”
His voice was deep and guttural, still rusty from the fact that he hadn’t talked much in years.
“That’s right.” She raised her hand, and slowly stroked one huge bicep.
Suddenly, he moved, and his huge arms engulfed her. He pulled her close. “Mia.”
Anger. Molten-hot fury stormed through him. It was huge and unstoppable.
Vek’ker growled. He strained for some control, grinding his teeth. He hated when his body didn’t feel like his.
His body still craved the drugs it no longer received. The urges inside him never went away. He wanted to fight.
He wanted to kill.
He sucked in a deep breath, and inhaled a scent that flowed through him like water.
