Crystal Jordan

Primal Heat


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      With that, he turned on his heel and marched away. Thankfully, she didn’t follow. He didn’t know if he could handle much more today. Connecting with Bren always shook him, always let the beast inside him loose far longer than he normally allowed, always made him react when he should think.

      No matter what political maneuvering he might be able to accomplish here, he had to consider self-preservation. He could only pray that the emperor claimed his One soon and they could leave this miserable planet behind. Only then would the temptation Bren presented be beyond his reach.

      Ignoring the feline within’s yowl of protest and pain at the mere thought of abandoning its mate forever, he turned for his quarters, once more in complete command of himself.

      The personal communication imager in his pocket vibrated to indicate he had received a new message. He pulled out the handheld comm. and accessed the missive.

      He had to read it twice before the words sank in. Bren wanted to meet with him. He shouldn’t. He should stay as far away from her as possible. He should allow no contact outside of what was necessary in their professions when he went down to haggle with General Arthur.

      His fingers were already moving over the imager, sending her a confirmation of their meeting. “Vishra, cancel the somnolence dose for me, reschedule the rest of my meetings for the day, and alert the cargo master that I’ll be taking a shuttle down to the surface for a…rendezvous of a personal nature.”

      “Yes, my lord.”

      Night had fallen by the time Bren hiked up the side of a mountain in the middle of West Virginia, moving toward the same clearing she’d stood in when the Sueni had landed. She’d gone with Arthur when he’d been ordered to investigate. Less than a year had passed since then, but so much had changed. Technology, politics, religion, history. Everything.

      Farid had been here that day, in his cat form. There’d been only ten of them in the landing party, half in human form, the rest in beast form. The humans had been all shapes, sizes, and colors, and they looked…like regular humans. Farid had moved forward, planting his feline self directly in front of her. He’d bowed his head but never took those icy eyes off her. She was caught by that gaze and the unearthly power she felt behind it.

      Everything about him overwhelmed her. He was huge. And beautiful. Like nothing she’d ever seen before. Like nothing any human had ever seen before. They were dangerous and feline, colored like a snow tiger with dark stripes on pale fur. Only no cat could ever be that size. They had the bulk of a grizzly bear, but all the grace of a feline. She shook her head, pushing the memories away. It didn’t matter what the Kith looked like or what had happened the day they arrived. What mattered was right here, right now, she needed the help of one Kith.

      Farid.

      Pausing beside a large tree, Bren let her gaze scan the area. Nothing moved, nothing was out of place. Only the moon lit the forest around her. She was about a quarter of a mile from the clearing, and she’d dumped her rental car outside the little town at the base of the mountain. The car was low end and she’d switched out the license plates on a similar model outside of D.C. Anything she could do to make herself harder to find, to keep Arthur from realizing what she was doing. She brushed a hand down her T-shirt. She felt naked without her uniform, but she couldn’t afford to wear it. Uniforms were distinctive in civilian areas; they made a person stand out. That was the last thing she wanted right now. Dark jeans, a black shirt, and black hiking boots would have to do. She kept her hair back in its customary knot. That much wouldn’t change.

      Cold sweat broke out on her forehead and she closed her eyes for a moment. What the fuck was she doing? She wanted to vomit, and she swallowed the sour gorge that rose in her throat and coated her tongue.

      Get a grip, Bren. Suck it up and do what you have to do.

      Farid would expect a cold, methodical military woman—the same woman she’d presented herself as every time she’d seen him. Normally, it wasn’t an act, but tonight it would be. She’d never been so rattled in her entire adult life. There were life-and-death, someone-was-shooting-at-her situations where she’d been calmer.

      That was because then, there’d been no question who was right or wrong. She’d had a job to do and she would do it to the best of her ability. It might mean she had to kill someone. It might mean she had to die. It might even mean she’d lose a friend, a comrade in arms, but tonight wasn’t about that. Tonight she was giving up her career by helping people who were officially at war with the military she served. Tonight she was betraying everything she’d ever believed in order to safeguard everything she’d ever sworn to protect.

      Her country. Earth. Mankind.

      More than that, tonight she had to see Farid again. She’d never dealt with him in person so soon after one of their psychic evening trysts. Her sex clenched in utter want while her heart pounded with trepidation. God, help her.

      Slow, grueling minutes ticked by as she scouted the area to see if he’d come, all the while expecting an ambush of Kith soldiers, expecting Arthur to send men to kill her, expecting anything and everything.

      “Bren.” The deep rumble of his voice directly behind her made her body jolt and her heart thud hard against her ribs. “You weren’t followed?”

      “No.” She swallowed, glancing over her shoulder at him as his heat enveloped her. “You came alone?”

      “Yes.” His arm wrapped around her waist, whipping her around at dizzying speed until her back pressed to the rough bark of a tree.

      “What are you—”

      She didn’t get a chance to finish the stupid question. His mouth closed over hers, his free hand bracketing the back of her neck to hold her in place for his kiss. It was the one thing he never did in her dreams. She’d been desperate, dying to know what his full lips would feel like as they played against hers. Would he be soft and gentle, building her needs with just the pleasure of his mouth on hers? Would he be rough, nipping and biting at her lips until she couldn’t stand it anymore? She’d wanted to know even though she shouldn’t.

      If his kiss had been demanding, it would have been easy to fight him, to kick and hit and force him to let her go. She had the kind of training to make that happen. But his touch was reverent, worshipful. She hadn’t expected it. He held her so tight, but his lips brushed hers in light strokes that had her straining to get closer, to deepen the contact.

      A low growl shook his chest, shuddering through them both. He licked her lower lip, teasing her, probing for entrance.

      Let me in. His voice reverberated in her mind. With that, the sizzling connection that bound her to him during the nights he shared her dreams snapped into place. She gasped, the dual physical and mental touch a shock. He took advantage, slipping his tongue into her mouth to tangle with hers. His fingers massaged the back of her neck, calluses rasping her skin as he let his hand drift down her shoulder and lower, until he cupped her breast in his palm. Her body jerked under the hot lash of pleasure, her nipple tightening to a painful point of need. His thumb stimulated the beaded crest through her shirt and bra, and she moaned into his mouth.

      It was more than she could resist, no matter what kind of danger they might be in. She shoved her hands into his thick, silken hair. The texture was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. He groaned, thrusting his hips against the juncture of her thighs. She could feel the unyielding arc of his cock through their clothes, and she burned for him. Her pussy drenched with cream, her internal muscles clenching and loosening as her desire flamed out of control.

      He jerked back, spinning her with that startling speed of his until they both faced the tree. She stumbled and caught the trunk in her hands, trying to maintain her balance. As if she could with him touching her.

      His deft fingers popped the button on her jeans, slid down the zipper with a rasp of sound that made the hairs lift on her arms, and slipped into the vee he’d created. Her thighs shook as she fought to regain some sanity. He pressed his palm flat against her belly, holding her close while his cock rubbed her backside.

      She