Take Me (3 page)

The first touch sent her onto her tiptoes, pleasure spearing every inch of her body.

He lifted his mouth from hers and whispered, “Do you like me rubbing your hot little clit, princess?”

Yes. Oh gods yes.
She gripped his arms to keep her knees from giving out.

“All slick and swollen.” He dropped another hard kiss on her mouth, his finger rubbing harder against her clit. “Just waiting to be licked.”

She moaned, and his tongue stroked deep into her mouth, taking control of hers as the finger on her cunt worked her harder and faster. The pleasure built, spiraling up higher than ever before. Lights flashed in her head and she cried out sharply into his mouth. Her legs gave out, but his arm around her waist kept her from falling.

The explosion he'd given her was ten times more powerful than the orgasm she'd had earlier just imagining his touch.

“Talia…” He lifted his mouth from hers. “You are so sexy when you come.”

W
hen you come.
Oh gods! What had she done? Had she completely lost all sense of reality? Her pulse jumped frantically.

“Is there a place we can be more private, princess?” He kissed her cheek.

She pushed his hand away and smoothed her dress back down. She had to stop this before it went further; it had already escalated to a deadly dangerous level.

“No. There is not. This will go no further, and let me advise you to forget that this ever happened.”

His smile was slow. “Forget? We both know that's not likely, Talia.”

Why would he not back off? Did he not realize what was at stake?
His life?
The thought of him being killed sent a cold wash of fear through her. She had to dissuade him, remove any hope he had of her being with him.

“I don't know who you are, but let me assure you that you will never touch me again,” she said stiffly. “I am no common Rosabelle that might be shared amongst friends. I am Rosabelle to the Governing Council. And you, sir, are a nobody.”

“Is that so, princess?” His grip on her arms tightened and she reluctantly turned her gaze back to him.

“Stop calling me a princess when we both know I am not one.”

“No.” His mouth grew tight. “You're just a slave forced to act as a whore.”

Her face burned with anger and humiliation and she raised her hand to slap him. He caught her wrist mid-swing, his grip tightening painfully around her smaller bones.

“Not your smartest move,” he warned and drew her toward him again.

A series of beeps signaled someone was punching in the code to enter the corridor.

“This shall be continued later.” He released her and strode down the hall in the opposite direction, just as someone else entered the corridor.

Later? Gods. The man was audacious. Talia leaned heavily against the wall, the breath leaving her body in one ragged sigh. What had she just done?

“Mistress Natalia? Do you fair well?”

She opened her eyes and smoothed her dress over her body, before acknowledging one of the guards that routinely patrolled the Council's headquarters.

“I am well, thank you,” she lied. “Just a bit of a head cold.”

He nodded and then bowed. “I wish you well, mistress. Have a nice day.”

She curtsied and remained where she was until he'd passed. Her heart still raced from her encounter with that man, and her nipples stabbed against the silky fabric of her dress. She must not walk back into the Council's chamber in this state. Her bottom still smarted from the punishment she'd received earlier.

She walked to the window in the corridor to look down into Dane's chambers. The couple was no longer inside. Her sigh of regret rang through the again empty corridor. There would be no brief nap today. She would simply run to the toilet chamber before heading back to be with Council. Hopefully that would be enough time for the physical effects of her encounter with the stranger to abate.

 

Ryder strode through the corridors of the Council's headquarters, his blood pounding through his veins.
Damn.
He had not intended to touch her. Had known the minute he did so that all rational thought would be history.

Then he'd come across her, and she'd been watching the two men fucking below. Her lips parted in wonder, large breasts pressed up against the glass window as she strained to see the couple. His control had snapped, and he knew he wouldn't leave that corridor without having tasted the sin behind her lips.

He shook his head, as if the harsh movement would rid her from his thoughts once and for all. The next hour would be the true test. Once he met with the Council and—if all went well—he had Talia alone, then he could begin retribution of her abrupt and callous dismissal of him. Then she would realize he was anything but a nobody.

“You are an outsider. Please present your badge, sir.”

Ryder glanced up and met the empty gaze of one of the corridor droids. He pulled his visitor's pass from the pocket in his suit and allowed the droid to scan it.

“Alan Worthington. Thank you. Enjoy your visit to the governing headquarters.”

The droid's buttons lit up as he floated past him and down the corridor.

Ryder slipped the pass with the fake identity back into his pocket. So far the initial phase of the plan had gone smoothly, but the real test was what he was about to do.

As he wandered the headquarters to pass the time before his appointment, he felt no fear, only confidence and the knowledge that his planet's survival rested on the success of this mission.

 

Talia entered the Council's chamber one hundred percent in control of her emotions again. Ramirez and Franklin sat on the couch with mugs of coffee in their hands, while Victor paced in front of the windows that looked out over the city park.

“The amount Mr. Worthington is willing to invest in the weapons program is astronomical,” Ramirez was saying. “I feel it is in our best interest to encourage him by any means necessary.”

Victor sighed and then nodded. “Yes, yes, I quite agree.”

“I don't know.” Franklin stood, having caught sight of her, and crossed the room toward her. “I'm still not certain we can trust this man.”

Tension ran through her body as he suddenly pulled her hard against him. The breath caught in her throat as he grabbed the hem of her dress and jerked it above her hips. His fingers plunged between her legs.

A slow satisfied smile spread across his face. “You are dry.”

She swallowed hard, grateful that she'd taken a few moments to compose; and clean herself after the intimate moment with the strange man in the hall.

She lowered her gaze. “Of course. Did you think I would not be? I was away from you three.”

“Yes, you were.” Franklin's tone indicated he didn't trust her, and his fingers moved a bit more roughly inside her.

“Franklin,” Victor's voice held a warning. “We agreed to keep things on a lighter note this afternoon with Natalia, due to our meeting.”

“Yes. So we did.” Franklin released her with narrowed eyes and the hem of her dress fell back to the floor.

She was unable to stop her shoulders from sagging with relief. His touch, even as he'd stroked her clitoris, had failed to bring forth any arousal.

Had he kept his fingers within her long enough to discover her lack of desire, there would have been anger and endless questioning.

Fortunately, “lighter note” meant keeping their attention above the waist. There would be no more little tests any time soon.

“How did Mr. Worthington come about his riches?” Franklin queried. “Surely he is not old money?”

Ramirez made a loud snort. “Old money? I think not.” He patted the couch and gestured for Talia to come sit beside him. “The man has made an obscene fortune as an oil tycoon on the planet Earth.”

Automatically she crossed the room and sat down on the white leather couch, curling her legs under her bottom.

“Earth,” Franklin grumbled. “That shithole? Now I really don't trust him.”

“What's not to trust?” Ramirez reached behind her and unbuttoned her dress, pulling the fabric down to bare her breasts. He caressed the right breast, toying with the nipple. “If the man is willing, then by gods we should do it.”

“It doesn't seem odd to you?” Franklin demanded, but his glare was targeted on her.

Talia lowered her gaze. It was apparent he wasn't pleased that he'd been forced to release her, yet Ramirez took the liberty to fondle her breasts.

Her stomach knotted and heaviness settled in her heart. How many more hours were in this day until once again the men had taken their pleasure with her and she was granted the freedom to sleep? To drift off into that alternate reality where she could be free for the six hours of sleep—monitored by Dane—that she was allotted.

“Look, gentlemen, the bottom line is Mr. Worthington is considering making an offer to back our expansion in our weapons and military.” Victor shook his head. “Without that backing, the planet's deficit will quadruple by the time our attack on Belton is complete.”

“Yes, but what does Mr. Worthington gain by doing this for us? Surely he wants something in return.”

Victor was silent for a moment. “He would like to become the fourth member of the Governing Council.”

“Have you lost your fucking mind?” Franklin demanded. “No. Absolutely not. We make the attack with the resources that we have—”

“I agree with Victor,” Ramirez interrupted quietly. “We have little choice.”

The intercom buzzed, stopping any response Franklin may have had.

Victor walked around to his desk and pressed a button. “Yes?”

“Alan Worthington has arrived for your meeting,” a gruff voice announced.

“Give us two minutes and then send him in.”

Victor walked back to the center of the room and looked at the other two men.

“Are we agreed that we will do whatever it takes to gain Mr. Worthington's backing?”

“Reluctantly,” Franklin muttered. “You know my thoughts.”

“I am in agreement.” Ramirez nodded and squeezed her nipple between his fingers one last time. “Cover yourself, Natalia.”

She nodded, closing her eyes against the threat of tears. Why was it so much harder today to bear the Council members' touches? She slipped her arms back into the sleeves of the dress, and the door swished open as she reached behind her to button it.

“Welcome, Mr. Worthington,” Victor boomed in a bright voice. “Thank you for coming today.”

“No big deal, boys. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be.”

Talia's muscles tensed and the blood drained from her face.
He
was Alan Worthington? She lifted her gaze and saw it was indeed him: the man from the hallway. But his voice was different. He had an accent that she hadn't noticed earlier. He still wore the suit, but now had some strange-looking hat on his head. It looked familiar, like the same style she'd seen in old Western movies.

He was watching her in such an intimate way that she was certain the Council would notice. Would he expose the two of them? Terror clawed at her throat and her nails dug into the arm of the couch.

“Well, aren't you a pretty thing?” he drawled and winked at her.

She was as good as dead! It was a miracle she hadn't fallen to the ground in a faint. Her pulse throbbed. She was sure the frantic beat of her heart could almost be seen through the silk of her dress.

“Yes, she is.” Victor's voice held a bit of an edge, but then he smiled. “Natalia, please bring in more coffee for the Council and our guest.”

She gave a jerky nod and stood, her legs wobbly as she made her way out of the chamber. In her mind, she prepared for the severe punishment that doubtless would come.

 

Ryder watched her leave the room, her head held high and her ass swinging lusciously. His eyes narrowed when the doors swished shut behind her.

Talia. Or no,
Natalia.
It took everything in his power to not allow himself to get a mammoth-sized hard-on. He knew his interest in her was not discreet, but then that was not necessarily a bad thing. Though the sensual Rosabelle had no idea, she would be the key game piece in his plan.

“You seem quite interested in Natalia.”

Yes, I am.
He turned to face the man who'd spoken. Victor Owens. One of the Council members and the man behind so much destruction and violence. It would be all too easy to simply kill the man now—all three of the men, actually.

He had officially infiltrated the highest-ranking form of government on this small planet; the opportunity was perfect. But it would also diminish his chances of leaving this building alive.

“She's a hot filly,” Ryder replied with a broad grin.

“Hot filly?” The man on the couch—Franklin, he knew from the file they had on him—stood and approached him.

“Well, sure. Meaning she's a beauty.” Ryder scratched the back of his neck. “We got the same problem back home that you folks got. The women all started dying off 'bout a couple hundred years ago. Sure, we got a few. But I don't think I've ever been with a woman who didn't look like horse manure.”

Franklin's mouth twisted with obvious disgust. Good. It meant they believed him to be what he portrayed: just a horny, dumb, oil tycoon.

“Why don't we get down to business, gentlemen?” Ramirez spoke from the couch. “Have you considered our offer, Mr. Worthington?”

“Yeah, I've been considering it.” He shook his head. “But I'll be real honest with you boys. I'm not so certain that I won't be getting the short end of the stick.”