The Mad Lieutenant: The Lost Planet Series, Book Three Page 7

  “I need to hunt them,” I utter, mostly to myself.

  Molly pulls away and ceases her clawing, much to my dismay. “You want to go out there and look for them anyway?”

  “It is necessary,” I tell her in a solemn tone.

  Her brown eyes sheen with unshed tears. “I’ll come with you.”

  “No,” I growl so fiercely she jumps. “It is unsafe.”

  She gapes at me. “If it’s so unsafe, then why are you going?”

  “Because someone must do it, and I am the only one with the skills to do so.”

  “I’m coming with you,” she snips. “When? Tonight?”

  When she starts to move off the bed, I grip her wrists, pulling her close enough that our noses touch. “You’re staying here, my mate.”

  She scoffs. “Absolutely not. I have skills, too. I grew up on a freakin’ farm, Draven. I know all about hunting and animals. I’m going.”

  “No,” I snarl, panic rising up inside me. My lips brush against hers. They are softer and plumper than I imagined. I want to investigate them further. If only I had more time. “I beg of you.”

  She puckers her lips and presses them to mine. It’s like a hug for our lips. The energy she emits zaps through my veins, invigorating my every cell. Her hands break free of my hold as they slide into my hair once more. I let out a groan of appreciation. The moment my lips part as the sound escapes, my mate surprises me.

  Sweet.

  Maddening.

  Delicious.

  Her taste slides across my forked tongue, stealing my every thought that isn’t her. My tongue lashes at hers, desperate for more of her unique flavor. I can’t help but grab her hips to pull her closer to me. Her legs settle on either side of me, and her center presses against my cock that is achingly hard, straining against my minnasuit.

  “Draven,” she moans, her hips rocking like they sometimes do when she sings.

  I hiss and grab her round rump with more force than I intended. She cries out and nips my bottom lip. Fire burns through my entire body as I lose my mind to the sensations she is flooding me with.

  Her fingers tug at my hair, and she pulls my nog back. Brown eyes blaze with a hunger I’ve never seen on anyone before. It’s as though she wants to consume me. I try to recall what I know about mating. It was something I didn’t read for myself, but overheard Breccan speaking of not long after he started mating with Aria.

  Remove the clothes.

  Lick her cunt until she cries.

  Make her wet with arousal, so she can take your cock.

  Breccan didn’t say what happened next, but Hadrian demonstrated against the wall, making terrible noises as he pretended to rut.

  I think I can figure it out.

  “My mate,” I mutter, squeezing her rump. “Would you ever…would you consider…”

  Taking my cock?

  The words die on my tongue.

  Shame creeps up along my flesh, making it burn hot.

  “W-What?” she stammers. “What is it that you want from me?”

  Her heated stare sears into me.

  “I want to put my cock—”

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  We’re jolted from the moment as someone interrupts us. She slides off my thighs with a surprised shriek. I’m already storming toward the door in the next moment.

  “What is it?” I demand as I swipe my access card.

  The door slides open, and Avrell storms in. His hair is messy, and his tired eyes are wild.

  “I can’t do it, Draven. I can’t mimic the milk properties, even with Calix’s help on the comms. Not even Galen can figure it out.” He lets out a heavy sigh. “How am I to tell Breccan that his mortling will go to The Eternals because I cannot find a solution?”

  Molly bounds up from the bed, rushing over to us. She loops her arm with mine and reaches out to touch Avrell’s shoulder with her other hand.

  “Babycakes,” she coos. “We’ve got this.”

  I look down at her, my brow lifted in question. She simply lifts her chin and does a one-eyed blink. Is her other eyelid broken?

  “My mate and I,” she says breathlessly, “are going to hunt for a herd. How soon can we travel?”

  Relief floods through Avrell at her words, and he gives me a hopeful smile. “Truly? You’re to hunt down a herd?”

  I cock my nog at him, confused. Avrell is all for the protection of the females, yet here he is, willing to let my mate go out into The Graveyard to assist me in my hunt. This has me realizing the importance of this task. What is the point of impregnating the females if their young will be sent to The Eternals within days? I would never do such a horrible thing to my Molly. She’s already grieved over the loss of one life.

  “My mate farmed,” I tell Avrell, confidence in my tone. I flick my gaze at Molly to make sure I said the right term. She nods her nog as she smiles. I continue, “She farmed and knows of hunts on her planet. There are beasts here similar to what she is familiar with. She is skilled with a magknife and will kill when necessary as she proved with her Kevined Randy. My mate is a valuable asset to this mission.”

  And I am selfish.

  I want her by my side.

  I will protect her from any beast out there. Any storm. Anything.

  “We must make haste then,” Avrell growls, motioning for us to follow. I’ve never seen him so maddened. Calix, yes. Breccan, most definitely. Never Avrell. With the arrival of our aliens, it’s as though we’re all performing at elevated levels of protection and determination. We care for them, and they are vital to our success of continuity on this planet.

  As soon as we make it into the corridor, the screams of the mortling echo louder than before.

  Avrell stops and turns abruptly. Sadness flashes in his dark eyes. “He’s losing too much weight. Another five, maybe six solars, and…” His brows furl together. “I need you back, a ronking rogcow in tow, within four. We cannot take any chances, Draven. Sokko’s tender life depends on it.”

  Molly and I both nod our nogs.

  Time is of the utmost importance.

  ***

  As we gather supplies, my eyes drift to Sayer. He has Molly pulled close as he speaks to her. She doesn’t seem to be in duress, so I allow his proximity for now. When Jareth pops in between them, slinging both of his arms across each of their shoulders, the only thing that stops me from ripping him away from her is her loud chuckle.

  She is not frightened.

  Galen hands me a pouch, drawing my attention away from the other morts and my mate. “This is dried chaxen. You will need it.”

  I open the pouch and peer at the green dust. “What is it?”

  “It’s derived from mosshay I grow in my lab. It’s something rogcows eat. Where it can be found, the rogcows are plentiful. Sometimes it grows in patches near Lake Acido after a drenching geostorm. When the mosshay is dried out and crushed, it becomes this dust.” He tugs at the pouch strings to close it. “Sprinkle it around your camp at night. Leave a trail of it from the facility to wherever you go. If the winds are just right, the rogcows can smell it from farther than the eye can see. They will come.”

  “Are you sure?” I ask.

  He frowns for a moment, uncertainty glimmering in his black eyes. Then, he lifts his chin. “It has to work, Lieutenant. It absolutely must.”

  He stows the pouch in a large bag. We have to go on foot, so everything must be carried on our backs.

  “Here,” Oz says, striding around the corner with a small zuta-metal box in his hand. “It’s the best I could do on such short notice. A vacuu-pod. Smaller than the vacuu-room I made for Calix and Emery. The entire unit has decontamination properties. You’ll notice there’s a sheen of white powder once you open the pod. It’s a cleansing agent that sucks and eliminates harmful toxins both in the air and on surfaces. I apologize that it’s small, but it will do the job.” He flashes me a wide grin, showing off his double fangs. “Might have to hold the mate close. Not much room in there.”

>   I let out a warning growl because I don’t like the way his eyes travel over her. He tosses me the vacuu-pod box and bounces down the corridor before I can give him a good knock to his nog. I shove the box into my pack and rise to my feet.

  Breccan enters the corridor where we’re all standing, his features haggard and weary. He stalks over to me, standing too close for my comfort. “Thank you, my friend,” he rasps out. “This journey is important.”

  “We’re gonna wrangle you a cow,” Molly assures him, coming to stand beside me. Her hand threads with mine. “Isn’t that right, mate?”

  I don’t correct her to tell her that it’s called a rogcow. It warms me how sure of our success she is.

  “If they exist, I will find them,” I growl in response.

  The mortling’s screams echo louder than before, causing Breccan to shudder. Despair is reflected on his features, and it makes me want to bring him all the rekking rogcows on this planet.

  “You’ll leave at first light,” he grunts out. “It’s too late to set out on the journey. Rest your nogs for now.”

  I finish packing up while Molly interrogates the remaining morts in the corridor. She’s asking about the terrain, the weather, and creatures we may encounter. Pride surges through me. She is my mate. I have never had a partner to assist me on a mission. Typically, I do solo missions if possible. When the other morts come with, they do one thing, while I do another. Sometimes, Breccan injects himself to aid me, but I never need his assistance.

  I don’t need Molly’s assistance either.

  But I want her company.

  She bends to push something into her bag and puts her juicy round rump on display for me. My cock thickens in my minnasuit. The urge to rut against her becomes a maddening roar inside my nog.

  When she lifts and turns to regard me, I can’t hide my need for her. Her brown eyes are soft, but as they drag down the front of my minnasuit where my cock strains, they grow fiery hot. She bites on her bottom lip. It makes me want to take a bite, too.

  “Time for bed,” she announces, her voice breathy.

  I sniff the air, catching the smallest hint of her female scent.

  And like a mort on a hunt, I stalk after my prey.

  The only difference is, she doesn’t run or hide.

  No, my mate runs right into my arms.

  I grab her round rump in both hands as she wraps her legs around my waist. My claws puncture the minnasuit she’s wearing, and she whimpers when the sharp points tease along her bare flesh beneath.

  Ignoring the open mouths of Sayer and Jareth, and the flare of envy in Galen’s eyes, I storm off with my mate.

  It’s time to make her mine in every sense of the word.

  9

  Molly

  I let him carry me, mindless of the others, until we reach the hall. Then, with a flirty, fiery look over my shoulder, I dart off for his quarters with him close on my heel. He gives chase with a growl that sends shockwaves along my skin.

  Tomorrow, we’ll hunt, but tonight, I’m the prey, and he is the predator.

  I make it all the way to his door where I’m stymied by the lack of an armband to unlock the door. But it doesn’t matter because he’s there, pinning me against the cool metal, before I have a moment to consider my next move. His towering form blots out any light, and in the shadows cast by his body, it feels like we’re the only two left on this lonely, lost planet.

  “Shouldn’t we, I don’t know, get ready for the hunt tomorrow?” My words are as useless as my lungs, which struggle to find air. There’s nothing we can do while it’s dark out, but my mouth moves without conscious decision.

  His dark, crazed eyes roam over me hungrily as though he can see through the material of my suit. I itch to have his gaze replaced by his hands. “There’ll be no work tonight, unless you count what I want to do to you as work.” He cocks his head to the side as though amused. If I wasn’t mistaken, he almost looks like he’s…smiling. Draven smiling?

  He waves an arm at the sensor by the door, and it glides open, the emptiness beckoning us inside. Draven takes one step forward, our bodies brushing, and I take a step back. He does this again and again until we’re in the solitude of his rooms. Once the doors close, we’re completely alone with only the double moon glow from the other side of the blood-smeared window to illuminate the cave-like space.

  “Are you sure we should do…this?” I babble. “I mean, this was only supposed to be something platonic. We were going to be each other’s safe space, you know? If we bump uglies and it goes bad, we’re going to be stuck in this place with each other. If it goes bad, it’ll go really bad.”

  Finally, my back reaches the far wall, and there’s nowhere else to go.

  “There is no part of you that is ugly, Molly mate. Every part of you is beautiful.” His claws scratch against my minnasuit. “I will investigate further to prove it to you this solar.”

  He moves to unzip my suit, and I stop him with a hand. “Whoa there, buckaroo. Even though I don’t think it’s a good idea, if we’re going to do this, we need to take it slow.”

  “Take it slow?” he asks. “I can do this.”

  I gulp. The closer he gets to me, the faster I want to go. It’s been so long since I’ve let loose that the heat is washing away all my common sense. Keep it together, Molly girl. I open my mouth to explain, but Draven covers it with his.

  So much for the rest of my common sense.

  This is all so new between us, but already, kissing him feels a little bit like being at home. I’ve never had a place I truly called home, not really, but if I did, it would be in Draven’s arms.

  I taste a bit of the madness inside him in the kiss. Tangy and wild. His kiss is unfettered, a temptation. The rabbit leading me down the bottomless whole. I should be cautious. Should try to keep my head on straight to figure out my next move, but then he shifts, the kiss deepens, and I leap without thinking.

  Before, he hadn’t known what to do with his mouth, his tongue, but a few short kisses and it’s as though he’s soaked up all the knowledge of seduction the universe has to offer. He parries my defenses with hard, dominating kisses that leave my lips tender and bruised, then soft, drugging kisses where he drags my bottom lip in, sucking it, then nipping it with his teeth and releasing.

  My hands can’t seem to find a good place to hold onto him, so they travel all over the shorn shoulders of his suit, to the scarred expanse of his thickly muscled arms. I scratch my fingernails through his hair in the way that makes him moan into my mouth. Then his lips are breaking free and licking down my throat.

  “Your taste, it’s better than the sweetest sparkleberry fruit,” he whispers against my skin. His touch is surprisingly gentle and sweet, his claws retracting so his fingertips trace over every visible inch, leaving a swath of goose bumps in their wake.

  I’ve lost the ability to speak. He’s stolen it from me with each passing, fire-bright touch, each lost second. When he reaches the hem of my top at the neckline, he pulls away, but presses a hand on my belly to keep me still. I may not be able to speak, but his message is crystal clear. I’m not to move from this spot. My knees are locked, and even if they weren’t, I’m not sure there’s anywhere else I’d rather be.

  As I’m held in position, he strips himself out of the top of his suit, revealing acres of gorgeous, muscled chest, powerful shoulders, and an abdomen that ripples as he flexes. Saliva floods my mouth, and I shiver from simply looking at him. He is mine as much as I’m his.

  Maddeningly, he stops with the bottom of his suit hanging limply from his hips. An intriguing bulge tents the front, and nothing has ever tempted me so much. I could ignore his directive to stay pinned to the wall as he torments me, half afraid of what he’ll do if I move and half intrigued by what he’ll do next.

  He extends his claws long enough to rip into my shirt, easily shredding the material until it falls to a limp pile at my feet. My breasts, which I’d bound with extra material, spring free, and I hiss as
the cool air turns my nipples into hard nubs. His eyes drink in my half-naked form greedily, and as though he can’t resist, his mouth comes to one breast, laving the sensitive tip with the forked end of his tongue.

  I throw my head back, cupping his neck with my hands, holding him to my chest. When I begin tugging at his hair, he switches to my other breast, nuzzling and nipping until I cry out.

  “I like hearing you call out for me. Before the next solar, I want to hear you call out until you no longer have a voice.”

  “Draven, please.”

  “Please, what?” he teases.

  “More. Touch me more.”

  “Where do you want me to touch you, Molly mate?”

  I shove at my pants. “Take these off. Touch me where it aches. Let me touch you. Anything. Please.”

  “We have all night until the hunt. I wish we had more time. I’d mate with you for solars and solars.”

  I nearly sob in desperation. “We don’t have solars. We’ve got tonight, and I want you so bad it hurts.”

  He kisses me again, and I’ve never felt anything as good as his bare chest against mine. The sensation drives me wild, and I forget my resolve to stand still, to be patient like he requested. Instead, I launch myself at him, my legs tangling in the half-on, half-off status of my pants. Confined the way I am, I can’t get close enough to press that bulge against the heat between my thighs where I want it most.

  Draven twists and angles his body, so he has us both on his pallet of blankets. With infinite patience, he settles me against his side, freeing my restless feet and legs of my shoes, then the rest of my suit, until I’m naked next to him. At the sight of my bared body he stills, his hand hovering over me.

  “What are you doing?” I ask as the seconds lengthen with him only gazing at me.