188.

Antic.i.p.ation stretched her taut. She couldn't see him. Had idea where he would touch her. Or if his touch would bring more wonderful caresses or the slap of his palm and fiery heat. Yet she liked not knowing. Her synthari had never ached so much. And at the tightness gathering in her belly, she suspected, that her body could not accept much more stimulation before she spasmed with pleasure. "What do you want from me?"

She heard him moving to the bath, leaving her, and she fought to hold back a sob.

Surely he wasn't abandoning her? Surely he meant to continue?

An eternity pa.s.sed while she was strung taut, and she clung to the notion that he would soon return to do exactly what she'd wanted. He'd given her body a few minutes to cool down, adjust. And she gritted her teeth, realising he was an absolute master at keeping her on a thin edge.

With his return, his weight depressed the mattress and the bindings on her ankles tugged her open wider. And then with absolutely no warning, his mouth closed over her synthari.

Stars. If not for her bonds, she would have jerked at the sudden heat of his wet tongue rasping over her most tender flesh. But she could not move. Could only remain pliant and appreciative.

He must be on his back. And that was her last coherent thought as his hands clasped her b.u.t.tocks and held her tightly against his mouth-as if she could have gone anywhere.

Between her tied hands and ankles, she couldn't so much as wriggle. Not that she wasted to. His bewitching mouth, his playful lips, and his roving tongue would have had her hips bucking. Yet his hands on her tender bottom held her absolutely at his mercy-and he had none.

Panting, frantic for release, she could do nothing but accept the pitter-patter of her heart, the crackle of sizzling electricity that caused sweet purrs of encouragement from her throat. Expertly, he employed his clever tongue, and when she was once again about to explode, when one more caress would have given her release, he stopped.

And she wanted to curse him in every language she knew as frustration overwhelmed her, but her breath was to ragged for words. Her throat too raw for coherence. I... can't... take... much more."

"You will take as much as I choose to give."

His words arrowed straight to her heart and she denied what her body wanted so badly, instead of submitting, accepting his demands-even as she found it incredibly hard, undeniably s.e.xy. "Yes."

Suddenly, his hands were ma.s.saging her bottom with some kind of oil that felt cool at first but quickly warmed her skin. "Ummm. That feels... ah." The oil trickled between her cheeks and his fingers followed, gently exploring and opening her. She ordered her quivering muscles to relax, but that was impossible. The oil was so slippery and his 189.

fingers were everywhere, under her, over her, inside her. Moving in and out in a steady rhythm.

Just one touch of his hand on her pleasure center would have given her release. But that was the one place he didn't stroke, and tease. Waiting for him to decide what to touch, where to touch, how much to touch, caused her stomach to tense. Her nipples were so tight.

"Tell me you want more," he demanded.

"More," she agreed.

And then he spanked her bottom with one hand while he continued to play with every exposed part of her with purring softness, coaxing hardness. The stinging slaps made her flesh smolder, his caresses on her delicate synthari altered from tender to decadent and naughty.

"Again?" he asked.

"Yes." Knowing that if she'd had freedom to move, her bottom would have risen up halfway to meet the spankings, even as her hips wanted to buck to keep his fingers inside.

His alluring fingers methodically entered and withdrew, and with perfect timing, he spanked the curves of her upturned cheeks until her entire body throbbed with expectation. "Oh, yes. Yes. Yes."

The heat. His fingers. Pain and pleasure rolled into one until she couldn't tell where one started and the other left. Her head spun. Her fingers clenched. Her toes curled into the mattress.

And then he entered her with his tavis. She had no idea when he'd removed his sarong, Didn't care. Finally. Finally, he was inside her, filling her with torrid pressure.

His hands came around and slid oil over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and she cried out from the raw pleasure. And then she was spasming, the explosion starting deep in her center and radiating outward with electric force. But as he kept moving, thrusting, she didn't so much shatter as rocket. And the burn kept escalating, taking her higher, farther, in a series of eruptions that went on... and on... and on.

And still he didn't stop. His fingers found where she was most sensitive and he applied steadily increasing pressure. Each gushing spasm triggered another, each more violent, each topping the last. She totally lost herself. Her body short-circuited.

And she blacked out.

190.

Chapter Eighteen.

Dora exploded into a world of brilliant colors. Cyan, turquoise, celadon, and golden ochre. Streams of color suffused her as if she floated among clouds. At first she thought she was dreaming. But this was like no dream she'd ever experienced. Color encompa.s.sed her, flooding through her and feeding her psi. As she reached out, the coalescent ribbons of color thinned until she sensed another presence in the swirling rainbow of shades.

Ranth?

Dora?

She wasn't speaking with her mouth but she heard him all the same. The connection was psi-linked with empathic overtones, allowing her to guess at his vigilance, yet he was most definitely happy to communicate. And beneath the wariness, she sensed Ranth's loneliness and fear, deep azure and indigo coloring his thoughts.

Where is this place? she asked, but as the henna and cinnabar and honey faded along with his azure and indigo, she recognized Ranth's vault.

But she was not on the outside looking in, she was inside with him. Somehow, she'd catapulted her psi exactly where she'd wanted to go. And she prayed she wasn't trapped. Before she couldn't remain separate from her body for too long or it might die, leaving her spirit with no place to return.

I created a doorway that would recognize only you. Ranth informed her.

Thanks. We're working on a way to free you from the dampeners. And Selgren L Matti has abducted Kirek. We need any help you can give us to get him back.

I can link with you and leave through the doorway, but my powers will be limited.

Dora understood. The doorway Ranth had opened was a tiny bandwidth. He could operate only a puny part of his intellect through such a small crack.

Any and all help will be appreciated. Stay linked with me as I withdraw.

Compliance.

Keeping Ranth with her was like carrying Kirek. In the beginning, he was light and easy to take along the journey back to her body, but eventually she tired from the load.

Determined to hold him close, she concentrated, but like muscles that had been pushed too hard, the psi link weakened.

Ranth shot her a virtual sigh. You're losing me.

Sorry. I'll come back.

Soon?

191.

Soon, she promised but doubted he had heard her reply. The link sliced sharp and clean.

With a shocking thud, her consciousness ricocheted into her body.

It took a few moments to make the adjustment. She was lying on her back and Zical was bending over her, smoothing back her hair, concern in his eyes. "Welcome back."

She blinked several times and breathed deeply to regain her bearings. Her body deliciously satiated and Zical must have untied her limbs because they were now free.

"What happened?"

He lifted her head and raised a gla.s.s of water to her lips. "You fainted."

She sipped greedily. "How long was I out?"

"Less than a minute." He set down the gla.s.s. "Did I push you too hard?"

"Not hard enough." She shook her head, unable to restrain her smile of contentment.

"You are not Rystani. I should not have-," He peered at her, his regret quickly pa.s.sing at the words she'd just spoken finally registered. "What do you mean, not enough?"

"You pushed my psi over the edge. I contacted Ranth."

"Yon fainted and dreamed-"

"It was no dream. He left open a door in his vault. We left together, but I did not have the psi strength to keep him with me."

"So what happened?" Zical frowned, but she had to give the man credit, he was trying to understand what had happened. Another man might have thought her insane.

And she appreciated that he didn't consider her words ridiculous, or worse, forbid her to use her new ability before listening to what she had to say.

"The psi link is like a rubber band. We stretched it until it broke. And when it snapped, I returned to my body. Ranth went back to the vault."

"You're certain?"

"I need you to push me further." She sat up, winced a little at her tender bottom, then eyed him with a speculative grin. "Think you're up to it?"

"I am." He peered at her, his expression full of suspicion because she had simplified her story. "But first we will bathe, have a meal and a rest. And then you will tell me exactly how dangerous your psi-traveling is."

"And if I don't? Will you spank it out of me?"

His fierce expression suddenly erupted into happy approval. "Did anyone tell you that you're incorrigible?"

Avanti didn't know where to turn for help except to her enemy. She didn't even know if Deckar would accept her communication, but she didn't approve of her own people's methods, especially L'Matti's. So she beeped Deckar and waited impatiently 192.

for a reply. As one of the Selgren leaders, Avanti was not accustomed to waiting, but the violence on Kwadii was escalating, slowing everything from communications to transportation. Hospitals already overflowed with injured people. Schools had closed.

Soon there would be shortages of food and medicine since the supply skimmers could not get through the riots.

And she worried abort the Federation people. Would the Risorians free them and allow them to leave Kwadii?

Her holoscreen beeped and Deckar's too smug, too perfect face eyed her with one speculative eyebrow raised in ultimate confidence. Knowing she could never match the self-a.s.surance in that metal-hard gaze, she strove to keep her fears hidden. Avanti, whose life was cobbled together out of uncertain alliances, and who schemed to maintain her position, tried to remain as composed as the Risorian-an impossible task.

While Deckar had had the luxury of the best schooling, completing years of study of the arts, history, and political negotiation techniques, Avanti had only street smarts and a self-taught education that had more gaps and rough edges than she'd ever admit.

Although Deckar had to be astonished by her private communication, one would never know it from his cool expression.

"Avanti." Deckar greeted her with only a slight head nod to avoid complete rudeness. "Are you pleased that soon the Risorians will have no safe places to work and live?"

"I need your help." The words tasted bitter. Never had she expected to ask the arrogant Deckar Delar Hikai, of the Fifth House of Seemer, for aid. Even speaking to him behind the backs of the Selgren Council was enough for her people to consider her a traitor.

She expected Deckar to sneer. Or summarily end the communication. He did neither. He stared at her, a.s.sessing her with intelligent eyes that burned and accused with barely concealed hatred. In total command, he let the silence stretch, his perfectly chiseled features giving away none of his thoughts.

Behind her back, she clenched her fists, determined no to beg. She would explain.

He would refuse. And then she would go on, knowing that she'd given every option a shot, no matter how impossible.

Finally, he spoke, his charismatic tone soothing her, although his words were jarring. "And why would I want help you?"

Jrek! She didn't want to be soothed. She held her head high, her spine bayonet straight. "Do you know L'Matti?"

"Who on Kwadii does not know of L'Matti? He's murdered four Risorians and openly brags of the killings. He owns over a fourth of the gambling and copulation establishments on Kwadii and has the morals of a Darvangian slug."

The distaste on Deckar's face appeared real. And Avanti hoped that the enemy of her enemy might become an ally. Clearly Deckar already disapproved of L'Matti, as 193.

she'd been certain he would. But would Deckar join her and risk L'Matti's wrath? It was time to find out.

"L'Matti is doing a true disservice to all Selgrens. He's kidnapped the boy, and I want to free him," she admitted, knowing that if her encryption program failed, she would lose her head for her revelation. While L'Matti wasn't officially a member of the Selgren Council, he often worked for them in secret. His pleasure places could be invaluable places to dig out confidential information critical to Selgren interests, and he'd bartered those secrets into a thriving empire so powerful that she dared not speak against him among her own people.

And so she'd sought help where she could...

Deckar had been born into the Fifth House and as such had been trained from birth to wield political power with a skill that no Selgren could hope to achieve. Selgrens were to busy earning a living to waste an entire life studying to make themselves better in order to join Tirips in the next life.

But even as Deckar attempted to hide his reaction, for just one moment his shock at her words flashed in his eyes, before a hardness returned. "Your information is already old."

So Decker's shock had not been over learning that L'Mattti held the boy, which he'd already known, but that she'd admitted it. But Deckar couldn't know L'Matti's plans.

Only she knew, thanks to a well-placed spy inside his closet circle of advisors. "L'Matti means to test the boy, then kill him to prove he is not the Oracle."

"Killing him will make him a martyr. We will honor and worship his memory,"

Deckar intoned with the solemn rhythm of a cleric. His rigid tone caused anger to rise so hot lushed her face. In the short time she'd defended the Federation people, she'd come to like and respect them. And she didn't support L'Matti's goal to refute the Risorians' beliefs.

"Why not help me save him?" she suggested annoyed that Deckar was attempting to employ his mesmerizing voice to melt through her anger.

"And why would you want to save the Oracle?"

"I don't give a sandworm's slime if Kirek's the Oracle. I want him off Kwadii." She wanted him to be safe. "I want the violence on Kwadii to end for Selgrens and Risorians alike."