Alien Paladin's Redemption (Warriors of the Lathar Book 13) Read online

  Without warning, something changed… snapped… and she went from trying to get away from him to needing to get closer. Surging upward, she pressed herself against him and kissed him back. He didn’t miss a beat, the growl spilling from his throat still vicious and feral as his hand slid up to tangle in her hair. With a yank, he pulled her head back, kissing along the soft skin of her throat.

  She laughed, a small sound that was more moan than laugh, and then gasped as his teeth grasped the skin where her neck met her shoulder. He was back in a heartbeat, controlling her movements as he claimed her lips again. Ruthlessly, he pried them apart with a hard sweep of his tongue. She shivered as it thrust into her mouth.

  The kiss turned hot and open-mouthed. He moved, pulling her into his body harder. His free hand slid down her back to cup her ass. Yanking her against him, he ground his groin against hers and she gasped again. Heat rolled through her at the feel of his long, hard cock trapped between them. Gods, she’d been joking about the Lathar showing a girl a good time. She had no way of knowing since she wouldn’t let most of them touch her with a bargepole, but if that was the way he was built… then fuck it, sign her up.

  Her hands smoothed over his shoulders, naked to her touch. Absently she wondered where his jacket had gone but didn’t really care, not when it bared all this satin skin over steely muscles to her touch. He’d appeared lean, verging on skinny, but he was anything but. There was real power in his frame, a whipcord lean strength that made her shiver and the heat simmering through her veins rise higher.

  She groaned as she slid her tongue against his, going from kissing to teasing… trying to take some of the dominance of the kiss back. He growled in warning, hand tightening in her hair again, and damn if that didn’t turn her on all the more. She stopped, and his kiss gentled a little, becoming more exploratory than conquering. Long strokes of his tongue warred with deep, drugging kisses and she felt like she was floating. She had no cares in the world other than his kiss and where he was taking them with it. She moaned, her eyes fluttering closed as she surrendered to him.

  He pulled away with a soft gasp, and she opened her eyes. He was watching her, lips a bare millimeter away from hers, the expression in his eyes unreadable.

  Fuck… what was wrong with her? She’d never let a guy manhandle her like that before. If anyone had told her a week ago she’d let anyone, much less a formally sardonic stick-up-his-ass Lathar, kiss her that way, control her that way… and that she’d enjoy it. More, that she was desperate for him to do it again… she’d have laughed them out the fucking door.

  And she did laugh now. Or, at the very least, managed a smile.

  “See?” she said in a soft voice. “Kinky. The good kind.”

  His eyes shuttered a little and he eased his grip.

  “I would not know,” he said, letting her go and stepping back. His chest heaved as he looked at her and she frowned. “You are the only female I have ever been that… intimate with.”

  “What?” If she’d been standing, she’d have staggered back. “You mean… that was your first kiss?”

  Color rose on his high cheekbones and he looked away. “First kiss. First time I have touched a female in an intimate way.”

  She blinked, unable to believe what she was hearing. “An intimate way? Are you telling me? Nyek… have you ever had sex?”

  He had to have. There was no way a guy who looked the way he did, kissed the way he did, could be a virgin. Surely?

  He shook his head, a sharp, almost annoyed movement. “I am a paladin of the lady. I do not partake in the pleasures of the flesh. They are a distraction from her service.”

  “Fuck me sideways with a bargepole,” she breathed.

  He was a virgin.

  His brows snapped together. “That sounds both painful and physically impossible.”

  She was still looking at him, eyes wide in surprise when he turned and stomped out of the cockpit. She watched him go. He was a virgin… he’d never… How did that even work?

  “I thought you guys used pleasure houses, brothels with females from other species in them, when you’re off duty?” she asked when he returned, his jacket back on. Damn, but she preferred him naked to the waist. Her fingers still tingled from the feel of his skin under her fingers.

  “Most do.” His answer was clipped as he slid into the pilot’s seat. “I do not.”

  She knelt up on her seat, elbows on the arm and her chin propped on her hand as she looked at him. He was embarrassed, she could tell, but she wasn’t letting him off the hook. Not yet.

  “Why not? Because you’re a paladin… is that like a monk or something?”

  He shook his head, keeping his attention on the screen in front of him and not looking at her. It was deliberate. She knew it was. The shuttle was on autopilot. That much she’d worked out for herself.

  “No, it is not. A paladin is a warrior who has vowed to become a champion for the god or goddess they serve.”

  Okay, they were making progress. He was religious, just as she’d thought.

  “And you serve this lady?”

  He slid her an irritated glance and she hid her smile. He definitely did not want to talk about this. Suck it up, buttercup, she thought. You started it.

  “I serve the Lady Liaanas, goddess of battle and mother of all.”

  “Uh-huh.” Sounded like a lot of early earth goddesses. “Does she tell you no between the sheets action then?”

  He blew out a short sigh. “No Latharian religion requires celibacy. I just… do not find non-Lathar species appealing.”

  Ohhh… now they got down to it.

  “I’m not Lathar,” she pointed out, her voice silky. “So does that mean you don’t find me attractive?”

  His jaw tightened but he didn’t look at her. Temptation riding her harder than a cop squeezing his informant for intel, she stood and slid between him and his console. He turned his head, lips compressing as he sat back sharply, hands raised.

  “Nyek…” she repeated, knowing she was needling him and not caring. “Does this mean you don’t find me attractive?”

  “Don’t play games with me,” he ordered, his voice lower than normal. She shivered at the sound.

  “Oh come on,” she teased softly, moving forward. One hand on each of the armrests, she climbed into his lap. Slowly. Sensuously. Watching him the whole time. He leaned back, but finally he met her gaze. Not directly, though. Instead, he watched her from the corner of his eye.

  “Don’t…”

  His command was barked and abrupt but she heard the note in it—a desperate little note. As though he was only just holding on to the rigid control she felt as tension through his body.

  She reached out, ran her finger down the center of his chest, and then dropped her gaze. He was hard, his cock pressing desperately against the fly of his pants.

  “Why not? You kissed me. You seemed to like it.”

  He closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing as she moved closer. She settled herself down, legs either side of his lean hips. His cock jerked against her, pressed right where she needed him.

  “You really seem to like me,” she murmured, leaning in to kiss the side of his throat. His pulse hammered away just under her lips. “And I gotta admit, I kinda like it too…”

  His breathing caught, hands tightening on the arms of the chair as she worked her way up his throat to his jaw. A tiny muscle there jumped as she kissed along it. His stubble abraded her lips and she shivered, imagining how that would feel… other places.

  Reaching up, she turned his jaw with gentle fingers, and he let her. His eyes dark, he watched her as she leaned in. Pressed her lips to his. Kissed him. He didn’t move, didn’t respond, but she kept going and learned the shape of his lips with soft kisses, arched against him from hip to breast.

  With a soft groan, he relaxed, moving his arms to wrap around her as his lips parted. Tentatively he kissed her back. She smiled against his lips, her fingers gentle on his cheeks as she g
ave herself over to the pleasure of their kiss. And god, for saying this was only his second, the guy really knew how to kiss.

  Finally, after long, drugging moments, she broke the kiss and lifted her head to smile at him.

  “Yeah, I think that means you like me…”

  He’d kissed Indra. He’d broken his own rules and kissed a female.

  The tiny pulse in the corner of Nyek’s jaw throbbed as he piloted the small shuttle through the upper atmosphere of the second planet they were to search today.

  The first had been a bust. Dropping down into the upper atmosphere to perform a scan, he’d found no evidence of the Latharian alloy their ships were made of anywhere on the planet. So they’d moved on, silence stretching out between them ever since he’d put her from his lap after that second kiss.

  He’d felt both kisses right down to his bones. What the hells had come over him? As soon as she’d said that about the Lathar… about giving a female a good time, he’d snapped. Jealousy had raged through him. The need to know which males she’d allowed into her bed filled him until he could think of nothing else but finding out who. Then ripping those males limb from limb so she would never look at them again.

  The depth of it had staggered him, but not as much as his reaction to her. She’d challenged him and something within him had responded with a deep, soul-searing need to crush her to him. To find out what she tasted like. What she felt like against his body as he claimed her mouth for his own.

  He’d never kissed any female before, but it hadn’t made a difference.

  As soon as his lips had touched hers, he’d known what to do. He was driven not by thought or the faith that had been his guiding light for so long but by a blazing need. His lips had crashed down over hers, mouth claiming hers in a fury of anger and heat he didn’t understand and couldn’t fight—hadn’t wanted to fight.

  It had only been after, when she’d questioned him and discovered his inexperience, that he’d felt shame and guilt. Shame for forcing himself on a female without her consent and guilt for breaking his unspoken vows to the lady. He hadn’t lied when he’d told Indra that no Latharian religion required celibacy, but he’d never expected to meet a female, much less be tempted by one.

  “Draanth,” he hissed as they dropped lower into the atmosphere. A light storm raged below them. “Too much interference, I’m going to have to take us lower.”

  “Into that?” Alarm laced Indra’s voice but he wasn’t surprised. These were the first words they’d spoken since she’d kissed him. And he’d enjoyed it, the little niggle in the back of his head reminded him. He’d kissed her back, liked her in the way she’d suggested.

  “The shields will hold,” he told her curtly. “We will be perfectly safe. I just need to take us lower so I can scan the planet.”

  “Uh-huh… you’re the boss.” Her voice was dismissive as she wrapped herself tightly in his jacket again. He’d never been so jealous of his own clothing in his life.

  She could be sitting in your lap, that damnable little voice reminded him. If you hadn’t pitched her off you with some stupid excuse about false impressions.

  He ignored it, knowing he’d been a draanthic idiot. Even worse, he wanted her in his lap again. Wanted more of her soft kisses… more of the harder ones when he took what he wanted, safe in the knowledge she liked it too. Heat surged through him and he bit back a growl as they hit the first clouds, turbulence battering the small shuttle.

  Within a minute it dawned on him that he’d been wrong about the storm. It wasn’t as light as he’d thought. Within two minutes, they were really in trouble.

  “Strap in,” he ordered, having to shout above the sound of the storm buffering against the shields. “I’m going to try and take us out of it.”

  If she answered, he didn’t hear her. He was too busy concentrating on holding the shuttle steady. He hadn’t counted on the storm being this vicious. They were buffeted from all directions. The little vessel rocked and rolled as the inertial dampers screamed warnings. He swore. He couldn’t attain altitude. No matter what he tried, it felt like something held the shuttle down in the chaos of the storm, a hand of god pressing them down so they could be ripped apart.

  Fear rolled through him, not for himself but for the female safely buckled in next to him. He slid her a sideways glance to see her knuckles white where she gripped the armrests of her chair. Her expression was calm, though, if a little pale, and she kept quiet, not distracting him with the hysterics he’d been told females were prone to. Pride filled him. His female was made of sterner stuff.

  “Can’t go higher.” He shook his head, out of options. “We’re going to have to go lower, see if we can break through under this storm.”

  “Just keep us safe,” she whispered, her words lost to the sound of the storm, but he saw the shape of them on her lips. Her eyes were dark as they latched on to him. All the sass and sharpness was gone, but he saw the trust there, and it humbled him.

  Turning back to his task, he put them into a dive, taking the shuttle deeper and deeper into the storm. Winds buffeted them, rain running in torrents against the front view screen. Lightning cracked right in front of them, making Indra scream, and the vicious arc left him blinking white spots from his eyes as he tried to maintain their course.

  “It’s no good,” he yelled. “There’s no break. We’re going to have to land.”

  “Just do it!”

  Her shout back was controlled, but he heard the edge of panic in it. Despite everything that had gone between them, and their terse words, he wanted to pull her close and comfort her. Ease her worries.

  But he couldn’t, not until they were safely on the ground.

  The next five minutes were a battle between him and the gods of this world who wanted to keep him in the air and fry them with bolts of lightning. Nyek flew like he’d never flown before, reflexes borne of desperation and utter determination to keep his little female safe suddenly sharper than any war cruiser pilot’s.

  He snarled as the lightning created a cage around them, panic beginning to fill him until… there, he saw the opening. With a bellowed war cry, he darted toward it, the little shuttle streaking through the sky and beyond the deadly lightning.

  His heart hammering in his chest, he swooped the shuttle down low over the landscape, almost clipping the heads off the trees below. Eyes sharp for any clearing, he finally found one and, before the lighting could find them again, neatly banked the shuttle and dropped them into cover.

  A sigh of relief escaped him as the landing pads gripped solid earth and the little shuttle hunkered down, safe in the cover of the trees as the storm raged overhead.

  “There,” he said, his voice sounding loud in his ears without the noise of the storm. “We’re safe now.”

  9

  “It’s not much, I’m afraid, but it will keep you going.” Nyek’s voice was low as he handed her a bowl.

  She peered inside and smiled. “The famous chocolate cake. You’ve done your research.”

  “Research? What do you mean?”

  He frowned as he hunkered down next to her, settling himself on the edge of the low padded platform that served as a bed. The back section of the shuttle had been transformed into a living space, and she was wrapped in a couple of blankets against the cold.

  They couldn’t run the engines all the time, not without attracting the ferocity of the storm overhead. She didn’t understand all the science Nyek had tried to explain, other than something about their engines attracting the lightning that had nearly killed them. So… engines on, lightning tried to kill them. She could cope with being a little cold to avoid getting fried.

  “Chocolate cake.” She waved the bowl at him. “Way to a woman’s heart. Or a human woman’s heart anyway.”

  “Really?” his eyebrow winged up as he watched her devour the cake. “So human females do not require expensive gifts or other signs of devotion from the males who wish to mate them?”

  She barked a laugh
. “Oh god, yeah. We like all the pretty things. Don’t have to be expensive though. Well… some women are like that, but if it’s just about the money, it’s not love.”

  He blinked, surprise flowing over his face. “Love? You mean you are not assigned the next worthy male as your mate?”

  She froze, fork halfway to her lips. But he was serious, she could see it in his eyes. Slowly, she put the fork down. “No. There’s no system for assigning couples to each other. We fall in love. That’s how we decide who our life partners should be.”

  “It seems… inefficient,” he commented, reaching for the bowl. She frowned, prepared to fight for it if necessary, but he simply picked up the fork and held it out for her.

  Leaning forward, she took the bite of cake, wrapping her lips around the tines delicately before pulling back. His dark gaze watched her all the way.

  “Latharian males searched for compatible females, taking their bloodline and clan status into consideration.”

  He started to talk as he fed her, his big body easy and movements gentle.

  “Once a male settled on a suitable female, he would set about proving he could provide for her, gifts of clothing, and bedding… items for their shared household. He would re-braid his battle honors, often adding beads in her colors,” he shook his head a little, the multitude of braids down one side falling over his shoulder. “Things that would show his suitability as a mate for her and a worthy father for her offspring.”

  She nodded, savoring the sound of his voice just as much as the cake.

  “Then, when he was sure he’d made a good case, he would present his claim. If she accepted, they would be mated. If the gods blessed their union, the male would acquire his mating marks.”

  She took the last bite of cake, chewing delicately as she thought. “Mad’s husband, Danaar, has these tattoos around his wrists,” she said in a low voice, fascinated at the insight into the Latharian mindset. She drew circles around her wrists. “All around here.”

  Nyek nodded, turning to put the empty bowl on a shelf by the bed. “Mating marks. He is a fortunate male indeed. He has found the one female above all others who belongs to him.”