forward.
“Weapons on stun. Full protective mode,” Tarak ordered.
He met the captain head on. A quick jab to his opponent’s belly, a lightning slash across the head, then he pressed the nozzle of his weapon against the captain’s chest. Tarak held the unconscious soldier upright as he fought his way to the centre of the squad. On his command his lieutenants called in. He released his grip and the captain’s body fell to the ground. Tarak joined his hands together. The linkage connected and a brilliant wave of energy pulsed from his central position to the outer circle where his men surrounded their enemy.
Sectons later, the Elite Force squad lay incapacitated on the ground. Tarak cast a satisfied glance at the results.
He disconnected the linkage in his cyno armour, walked over the fallen to an area well clear of the critical radius where his quarry stood surrounded by protective sentries. Tarak gripped the female’s arms and hauled her hard against him; her bound hands came up to push ineffectually against his armour plated chest. He gazed into her upturned face, noting the rebellious tilt of her chin, the amazed curiosity lighting her eyes.
“Where are the other females?” he demanded. When she turned her face away, he tightened his hold, his hands unyielding on her rough cloak. “They are in danger. There is at least one other squadron of Elite Forces on this planet seeking their location. They will kill them on sight. Do you want their deaths to linger in your mind all your waking moments?”
The female turned her face to him, her eyes glistening. As he watched, a water droplet formed at the corner of her eye. His gut twisted in response. He read both desperation and indecision in her expression. He gentled his touch, fought his desire to fold her into his arms.
“Tell me. None of you will come to any harm. You have my word.” He deliberately softened his voice.
A quiver went through the slight body beneath his touch. The sudden heating of his blood in response rocked him with its intensity. Prickles of sweat beaded his forehead. His throat tightened.
The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Tarak followed its path as his senses went into overload. He swallowed hard. His nostrils flared. Her scent filled his lungs. Her warmth spread from his hands and chest to fill his body with a throbbing need unlike anything he had experienced before.
By the stars of Darkos, what was happening to him?
A Darkon male’s carnal needs had always been easy to control. Long aons spent training on the wastelands of one of Darkos’s several moons dissipated most sexual urges. Those who on occasions had found the arduous physical exertion ineffective, utilised the services of inferior female species that traded their sexual services for coin. This demanding urgency to bury himself within this female could only be caused by his release from the long barren cycles of sexual frustration. It irritated him how difficult he found it to maintain his usual calm. By summoning all his disciplinary training, he brought his pulsating body under control.
“How can I trust you?” she demanded.
”You have no choice. Life—or death,” he ground out.
She huffed out her breath and straightened her shoulders. Again she attempted to gain space between their two bodies. With the cunning of a seasoned hunter he gave her this small victory. His armoured hands slid from her arms, then he stepped one pace back. He watched her intently, as she considered her options.
He noted with admiration the clearness of her direct gaze, her fisted hands which told him of her stubbornness.
“Very well, but there are conditions.”
Tarak was surprised he had expected no less. He folded his arms across his plated chest and considered her defiant figure. He heard his men murmur their awe at her temerity. Their boots rattled on the rocky pavement as they shuffled closer to stare at this strange creature. He waved them back, speculating
“Weapons on stun. Full protective mode,” Tarak ordered.
He met the captain head on. A quick jab to his opponent’s belly, a lightning slash across the head, then he pressed the nozzle of his weapon against the captain’s chest. Tarak held the unconscious soldier upright as he fought his way to the centre of the squad. On his command his lieutenants called in. He released his grip and the captain’s body fell to the ground. Tarak joined his hands together. The linkage connected and a brilliant wave of energy pulsed from his central position to the outer circle where his men surrounded their enemy.
Sectons later, the Elite Force squad lay incapacitated on the ground. Tarak cast a satisfied glance at the results.
He disconnected the linkage in his cyno armour, walked over the fallen to an area well clear of the critical radius where his quarry stood surrounded by protective sentries. Tarak gripped the female’s arms and hauled her hard against him; her bound hands came up to push ineffectually against his armour plated chest. He gazed into her upturned face, noting the rebellious tilt of her chin, the amazed curiosity lighting her eyes.
“Where are the other females?” he demanded. When she turned her face away, he tightened his hold, his hands unyielding on her rough cloak. “They are in danger. There is at least one other squadron of Elite Forces on this planet seeking their location. They will kill them on sight. Do you want their deaths to linger in your mind all your waking moments?”
The female turned her face to him, her eyes glistening. As he watched, a water droplet formed at the corner of her eye. His gut twisted in response. He read both desperation and indecision in her expression. He gentled his touch, fought his desire to fold her into his arms.
“Tell me. None of you will come to any harm. You have my word.” He deliberately softened his voice.
A quiver went through the slight body beneath his touch. The sudden heating of his blood in response rocked him with its intensity. Prickles of sweat beaded his forehead. His throat tightened.
The tip of her tongue darted out to wet her lips. Tarak followed its path as his senses went into overload. He swallowed hard. His nostrils flared. Her scent filled his lungs. Her warmth spread from his hands and chest to fill his body with a throbbing need unlike anything he had experienced before.
By the stars of Darkos, what was happening to him?
A Darkon male’s carnal needs had always been easy to control. Long aons spent training on the wastelands of one of Darkos’s several moons dissipated most sexual urges. Those who on occasions had found the arduous physical exertion ineffective, utilised the services of inferior female species that traded their sexual services for coin. This demanding urgency to bury himself within this female could only be caused by his release from the long barren cycles of sexual frustration. It irritated him how difficult he found it to maintain his usual calm. By summoning all his disciplinary training, he brought his pulsating body under control.
“How can I trust you?” she demanded.
”You have no choice. Life—or death,” he ground out.
She huffed out her breath and straightened her shoulders. Again she attempted to gain space between their two bodies. With the cunning of a seasoned hunter he gave her this small victory. His armoured hands slid from her arms, then he stepped one pace back. He watched her intently, as she considered her options.
He noted with admiration the clearness of her direct gaze, her fisted hands which told him of her stubbornness.
“Very well, but there are conditions.”
Tarak was surprised he had expected no less. He folded his arms across his plated chest and considered her defiant figure. He heard his men murmur their awe at her temerity. Their boots rattled on the rocky pavement as they shuffled closer to stare at this strange creature. He waved them back, speculating
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