“We’ll talk about that after your punishment.”
“What do you want?” She met his eyes, concealing her nerves. She had no power here and nothing to bargain with. He could take whatever he wanted. She was at his mercy and they both knew it.
His gaze wandered down to her mouth, his expression tightening as she licked her lips self-consciously.
“Kiss me.”
Her eyes widened. She’d expected more than just a kiss. Much more. Most of the men she knew, if they had her in this situation… well the list of demands would be endless and depraved. And it certainly wouldn’t have featured a simple kiss.
“Just a kiss?” she checked.
“Just a kiss.”
With a small nod, she tilted her chin upward, anticipation and nerves running through her. He chuckled and she opened her eyes again, looking at him curiously.
“Oh no, little mouse,” he smiled. “You kiss me.”
“Oh…”
Faced with having to take the lead, she froze for a moment, not sure what to do. A small smile on his lips, he eased her closer, pulling her up against his large, hard body. It helped, not having to make that first, physical move. She reached up on her tiptoes to brush her lips against his.
The first touch was fleeting, little more than a whisper of her mouth over his, but electricity sparked between them. His fingers flexed on her hips, digging in slightly, but that was the only move he made. He didn’t yank her closer or try and kiss her.
Curious, she kissed him again, pressing her lips firmer against his. They were surprisingly soft and smooth against hers. He rumbled in the center of his broad chest, the sound one of pleasure and approval. It warmed her through, and she leaned in closer, her lips lingering this time as she explored and learned the shape of his mouth.
He smiled when she pulled back, opening his eyes to look down at her. Even sitting, he was still taller than she was.
“That was nice,” he murmured, his hand spreading out in the small of her back in a small caress. In his arms, pressed against him like this, she felt the power in his larger frame. She felt every hard plane and…
Her eyes widened as she registered the pressure against her stomach. Her gaze flew up and collided with his. He was aroused and he was huge.
“Don’t panic,” he murmured, holding her still as she tried to put space between them. “Just a kiss, remember? I can’t help it if I respond, but it’s just a kiss. Nothing more unless you want.”
“Unless she wants what? Oh, don’t answer that.” A deep male voice sounded behind them, making her jump and half turn.
Another mercenary stood in the doorway, all long hair, muscles, and piercing eyes. A small gasp escaped her, and she went from trying to push Altav away to trying to get as close to him as possible. He let her, closing his arms around her as the new arrival strode into the room.
“Fin said you’d found a human aboard. Didn’t realize it was a female,” he said, raking her with an unreadable look.
“Hey! It has a name,” she exclaimed, drawing herself up to her not very impressive, full height and giving him her ice-queen look. Her nerves had fled with Altav’s arms around her. And this one wasn’t like Fin. There wasn’t the same deadness in his eyes. “I am Marika Ingrassia. And you are?”
“Marika. That’s beautiful,” Altav murmured by her ear and then raised his voice. “This is T’Raal, my… boss. He commands our unit.”
“You’re mercenaries.”
Both men nodded in reply.
“Skinny here is one of my longest-serving team members,” T’Raal replied. “Never known him pick up a stray before, though.”
“Skinny?” she asked, turning to look up at the man who held her.
His smile was rueful and just this side of boyish, completely negating the fact he was outfit for war. “We use callsigns. Skinny… well,” he flicked a glance down himself. “That one is kind of obvious.”
“And because he was a skinny runt when I found him in a backwater bar fixing to hire with some second-rate crew,” T’Raal broke in. He was leaning against the wall now, considering the two of them with a steady look. Instinctively she drew closer to Altav. If this was his boss, T’Raal could throw her off the ship.
“Yeah, yeah… what he’s not telling you is that I’ve been built this way since I was fourteen,” Altav chuckled, and then his amusement faded as he looked at his boss. “Marika needs our help. Don’t you, little mouse?”
She did, but she hadn’t dared hope that they would actually help her. That anyone would help her.
“I should think so.” T’Raal folded his arms. “Stowing away aboard a mercenary ship is either brave as fuck or stupid as fuck. I’m not sure which yet. Stowing away on this ship is suicidal. But it gets you sixty seconds to persuade me why we should help you.”
She bit back her nerves and looked at him steadily. “You shouldn’t. You should put me off at the next planet.”
T’Raal nodded, his expression unchanging but she thought she saw something flicker in his eyes. “Interesting opening. Carry on.”
“My father is an asshole. More than that, he’s Anton Ingrassia, one of the biggest crime lords in this sector of space. If he finds out you have me, he’ll kill you all to get me back.”
Altav’s arms tightened around her. T’Raal’s eyebrow rose a fraction.
“He could try,” the mercenary leader commented mildly. “Why did you run?”
Everything rode on what she said next. She could feel it.
She lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. “He plans to marry me off to Maxim Martell. Maxim likes his sex rough. He doesn’t care about his partners’ pleasure, or even their long-term survival. If you don’t help me, I’ll be dead within the week.”
Skinny didn’t need to look at his leader to know fury had tightened his harsh features.
“Humans,” he spat. “It never fails to amaze me the depths they will stoop to.”
For a moment Skinny held his breath. He hadn’t admitted to Marika that they were Lathar. The evidence was all there that they weren’t human, but he didn’t think she’d worked it out for herself.
Running away from her father’s men—because he now had no doubt the men he’d seen her with were less her bodyguards and more her jailers—and then stowing away on board, not to mention pulling his own gun on him… they were all high-stress situations. He wasn’t surprised she wasn’t picking up on the details or guessed that they weren’t human. Especially since the only images human media outlets had were of imperial warriors. All leather-clad with their long hair and honor braids, they looked nothing like the Warborne. The lie of omission niggled at the back of his brain, but he ignored it. She would work it out herself eventually. Probably soon.
Marika blinked but didn’t say anything, her gaze fixed on T’Raal.
“Does that mean you’ll help me?” she pressed. Determination set in the line of her jaw.
Skinny hid his smile as T’Raal watched the little human with an unblinking gaze that had sent many of their enemies running for cover. Lethal in battle and uncompromising, the Warborne leader wasn’t a male to piss off, or piss about with, but Marika faced him unflinchingly. Only Skinny could feel the tension in her tiny body and the trembles that raked her slender form. She was still scared, but this was an entirely different woman from the one who had reacted to Fin… the same one who had taken a pipe to the back of his head. What had caused the change?