The Thief Of Mardu Part 2

Chapter Three.

At the low growl Feltang fled, disappearing in the hazy mist hanging around the disreputable gaming club. Before she could make her own escape, Isa found herself picked up by her collar and shoved into the shadows.

As her attacker pinned her belly against the wall, his large, hard body pressed against her so firmly that she couldn't move. Hands as quick as lightning flashed over her, removing the twin Zephyr blades and the illegal Melan pistol strapped to her side.

Disarmed, she struggled to free herself but was soon unable to breathe.

"If you stop moving, I'll allow you air." The deep voice smoothed over her, a seductive promise of life.

She immediately stilled and gasped when air rushed into her grateful lungs. He turned her around in his arms, so that her back now touched the wall. His body stood so close to hers that she could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Her hat and his proximity blocked her view, so she could see no more of him than a flash of golden skin at the base of his throat.

She innately knew that this man and the dark haired stranger who had earlier alarmed her were one and the same. Her instincts that he was trouble proved correct, and her heart raced with panic.

"Feeling better?" he asked softly, causing her to start in a new feeling of alarm. Amazingly, her body felt as if were not her own, her blood pooling and pulsing in what she surprisingly attributed to l.u.s.t. She blinked and tried to regain control over her emotions but could do no more than lean into her large captor when he pulled her forward.

"That's a good girl." He purred into her ear. "Now let's see what you look like up close, hmm?" He removed her hat, freeing her long hair from its confines. She refused to look up, not wanting him to see more of her than he already had.

She didn't know how he could see in the first place, considering the veiled darkness of their position, but apparently he could make out enough.

"Very nice," he said, his voice sounding pleasantly surprised.

Isa struggled to hold onto her control as this new threat invaded. His warm mouth blew a caress against her ear, wringing a startled moan from her lips. The patrons in the club didn't give her or her captor a second glance, similar scenes of foreplay occurring all around them.

"What," she began and gasped as his teeth bit softly on her earlobe. His tongue pressed into the sensitive cavern of her ear and her knees buckled. "Wh-what do you want?" She had no idea who this man was. System law would have had her in chains by now, not pressed up against the wall being seduced senseless.

"You have to ask?" he murmured with a hint of humor. "I had no idea such beauty hid underneath that terrible hat." His lips left her ear to find the pulse beating rapidly at her neck. His tongue swirled over the point before he settled his lips over her soft skin. Sucking lightly, he groaned and ground his pelvis against her.

Isa writhed, caught in the grip of pa.s.sion beyond her control. With just his mouth, this stranger made her wet and needy.

She gripped the wall for support.

She had come into this less than savory establishment to keep a low profile. Her dealing with Feltang had proved a minor success. This man, however, posed a serious problem. Never before had Isa ever let a small thing like s.e.xuality come between her and a job, let alone her life.

But this unidentified male held her against a grimy wall, stealing her will as he sensuously suckled her neck. She could only a.s.sume the Sour Jack had been somehow drugged. She couldn't account for her reaction to this stranger, nor could she fathom why she didn't simply break away from his touch.

He no longer held her captive but caged his hands on either side of her head and leaned against her with his hard body.

Isa tried to turn but he pushed deeper against her as his mouth sampled the tender flesh of her neck, an erogenous zone she hadn't known existed. Stars, she silently cursed as her body responded against her will. She wanted him more than she'd wanted anything in her life, and she had no idea what he looked like! He certainly had height and strength but she knew little more than that.

She closed her eyes, staving off the ecstasy building within her, and called on every ounce of discipline she possessed to resist his heady embrace. Moisture pooled between her thighs and her nipples had pebbled to hard nubs. She felt raw and she ached, and all from his touch. Then she inhaled to get a grip on her body, and she drew in his scent.

She moaned softly, disgusted to find the breathlessness of her tone was not an act. He smelled better than Aflera ambrosia. She wanted to devour him.

As if he sensed her desire, he sucked harder at her neck and moved his hands up under her jacket to caress her full b.r.e.a.s.t.s. She could feel the steel of his c.o.c.k through his trousers, thrusting against her belly, and she desperately wanted to touch him flesh to flesh.

"That feels so good," she rasped and heard his breathing quicken. His hands grew rougher as the want built, and his need fed her own.

Knowing she approached the point of no return, she ignored how much she wanted him to continue his sensual a.s.sault. She reached for the one thing determined to cool her ardor, a vision of the dead Statesman Klin. She waited until her captor leaned away from her, one hand leaving the wall, she a.s.sumed, to unfasten his trousers.

As soon as his hand reached into his pants, she urgently shoved away from the wall and knocked him aside. She caught a glimpse of golden eyes widening in surprise, of dark hair shaping a sensual face. Then she ran as if her life depended upon it.

She sped through the crowd nimbly, and as she ran, she fought against memories of his touch, forcing herself to hurry. Still, it was a battle to convince herself she didn't want to be caught.

Catam fought to control his breathing, to stifle the wave of heat engulfing his painfully aroused body.

He fastened his trousers and leaned his forehead against his arm, needing the wall for support. He didn't understand what had just happened. One minute he'd been watching the cloaked woman in discourse with that vermin Feltang.

And the next ... he caught her scent, and like a siren she drew him close before decimating his judgment.

Catam was Mardu, and more, he was Xema. His people revered sensuality, simultaneously basking in pleasure while controlling their s.e.xuality from years of steady practice. While he had never disappointed a s.e.xual partner, he had never lost his head with one either.

That the little thief he trailed could have made him forget his discipline astounded him. He breathed deeply, in and out, calming his racing pulse by forcibly ignoring memories of the woman's touch.

His c.o.c.k still felt uncomfortably hard, and he contemplated one of the many pleasurers near him before deciding against it. Never mind that he enjoyed this particular chase. His brother trusted him to bring in his quarry soon, so play would have to wait.

Then a naughty thought crossed his mind, and his subsiding arousal flared anew.

The thief had started this, with her beckoning scent and delightfully erotic little body. Why not let her finish it? Unlike Sernal, Catam subscribed to no code of conduct. He was no lawman, no matter what his papers said. Catam was Xema, and as such, when it came down to it, he answered to no one but himself.

Smiling darkly, he turned to follow the tantalizing scent of his prey. He moved at a moderate pace, aware that she would be in a frenzy to escape and most likely tire herself out in a few hours.

Catam the hunter stalked swiftly, patiently, and didn't stop until he snared the prize. He never lost his prey. That was what made him so valuable to Captain Mara.

The Fas brothers had strength galore, but Catam possessed speed, agility and a tenacity that made him one of the best in the business. His added sensual charm with the ladies didn't hurt either, he thought as he followed the woman through town.

Too bad his charm had failed with her.

No matter. He would find her and try again. Eventually he would conquer her resistance and bring them both satisfaction that Catam, for one, desperately needed. Unconsciously or not, she had teased him and left him hurting. He could do no less than find her and exact justice, first for himself, then for Klin's family.

Smiling at the thought, he trudged through town, past the stretch of farmland and into the tree line to enter his favorite hunting grounds, the Eron Forest. Night settled over eastern Mardu, and Catam sighed with pleasure, feeling more at home here than he ever did aboard ship.

Under the thick canopy of trees, the Mardu moons may as well have been nonexistent. Wavery, thin streams of light pierced holes in the blanket of leaves, so Catam allowed his extrasensory perception to flare.

Suddenly, the night looked bright and clear. He eyed his quarry's trail with grim satisfaction. In her haste to disappear, she had made no effort to camouflage her escape. Broken vegetation and discernable footprints guided Catam deeper into the forest.

After an hour, he stopped and took note of his direction. The woman moved south, giving her two possible destinations. Either she planned on losing herself in Easfra, another large city in eastern Mardu, or she was headed toward the southern province.

He frowned at thoughts of the south. The southern province had no cities or towns. Inhospitable to all but the most hardened of men and women, the southern jungles of Mardu provided comfort to no one.

Only the crazed or desperate tried to exist in the jungle, where leopards, raptors and kethra, to name just a few, lived to hunt all who invaded their territory.

She couldn't possibly be headed there.

Two hours later he scowled furiously at the trail he followed. He had crossed the Eron Forest and now entered the Fields of Flor. d.a.m.n, but she was heading toward the jungle after all. The little idiot was bound to get herself killed in the jungle, if the Fields didn't destroy her first.

Furious that she might come to harm, Catam quickened his pace. He convinced himself his anger stemmed from denied satisfaction. For the alternative was something he didn't understand. How could he care about a person, a thief, he corrected, he had only just met? h.e.l.l, he didn't even know her name.

Muttering under his breath, he ran swiftly after her, determined to end this nonsense once and for all.

Isa dropped in an exhausted heap onto the blue bed of moss under the overhang. The forest had provided excellent cover, enough for her to lose anyone trying to follow, surely. Besides, night had fallen hours ago, and she'd heard nothing in the dark silence of the Eron Forest.

Exiting the forest had felt dangerous, but in order to reach the southern jungles, she'd had to risk discovery. The tall gra.s.ses had helped her feel less exposed, as had the notion that no one was that good a tracker, to have stayed with her for over four hours in total silence and through dark, uncharted forest.

She'd trudged for another two hours before succ.u.mbing to fatigue. The small lake and large, hovering rocks provided the perfect place to rest. One of the ma.s.sive boulders had an inverted L-shape, providing a small ceiling and cover of sorts.

Now resting under the rock, she had a wall of stone at her back and an expanse of water at her front. While Ithra hid behind a cloud, Aran and Sildor shone brightly, illuminating the vegetation on her left and right.

Tall green gra.s.ses covered in golden arotrope provided a sweet scent to complement the ripples of clear water in front of her.

Tired beyond measure, Isa settled into the moss bed with ease, her clothes suitable to the temperate climate in the Fields.

She tried to sleep. Her body desperately needed it, but her mind refused to comply. Images of her dark haired seducer bombarded her thoughts. Stars, but he'd been too physically perfect to be real.

Isa preferred dark hair and tall, strong-armed men.

By Flor, she'd gotten her wish with her captor. Black hair teased the nape of his neck, outlining a purely masculine beauty. Dark brows and thick black lashes framed his catlike eyes. And his golden gaze had flamed with carnal appreciation, staring at her with such surprise when she had fled him.

She sighed at those eyes, feeling them even now caressing her. And his lips ... those lips had been both hard and soft, plying her with pleasure while seducing with promises of erotic sensation. She shivered remembering how he had sucked at her neck, a place she'd never thought of as erogenous.

The few times Mathan had tried kissing her neck, she'd laughed and pushed him away, tickled by his raspy beard and amused by the slurping sounds he made. Their coupling had been quick and unsatisfying, far from what she'd experienced with her captor just hours ago despite the fact that they hadn't had s.e.x.

She squirmed to suppress the quickening in her womb, trying to deny the moisture that pooled between her thighs.

She closed her eyes tightly and puzzled over her odd behavior. Never before in her twenty-six years had she ever felt so turned on by anyone, and in so brief a time!

She didn't know his name, and she didn't want to know why he chased her. Yet she would have given her soul to feel him deep inside her, to feel him come hard within her body.

She shook her head and opened her eyes. Staring at the narrow rock ceiling above her, she tried to rationalize her feelings.

Perhaps the spontaneity of the moment had caused such a rush? No. She wouldn't be so aroused now if it had only been the moment. Maybe she'd reacted so pa.s.sionately because it had been so long since she'd had s.e.x. She nodded, thinking that sounded reasonable.

Yet it didn't explain why she could picture him so clearly. She could still feel him touching her, now, several hours and several tree fields away.

She shivered and forced her eyes closed. She would not think of him anymore. She had to focus on the future, and the dangers inherent in her destination.

Visions of the southern province blended into another image of her captor. In this instance, she clearly saw him pressing her against the wall of the bar in Shathra. This time she imagined him releasing his c.o.c.k from his trousers. And instead of taking her from the front, he'd turn her around and f.u.c.k her from behind.

She groaned and turned onto her side, clenching her thighs to prevent the throbbing in her loins from growing.

d.a.m.n, but it was all too easy to imagine him taking her that way.

Unable to stop the comparison, she recalled Mathan's feeble attempts at creativity. Since it normally took him no more than a few minutes to climax, he hadn't exactly had the time to try different positions. She frowned. That 'relationship' had lasted barely longer than Mathan's staying time.

Then of course, there was Teve. He'd at least tried to please her. But after experiencing pleasure with professionals, namely her older sisters, he'd declared her cold by comparison.

Oddly enough, memories of Teve didn't bother her like they normally did. Her near-o.r.g.a.s.m tonight with the dark stranger must have cured her of her frigidity. Too bad Teve wasn't here to see it.

She rolled onto her back again, feeling a little better about herself. Maybe she did have the Araye pleasurer ability after all. s.e.x with strangers hadn't appealed to her before, but maybe she was a late bloomer. Maybe she should reject thievery in favor of the sensual arts, like the rest of the females in her family.

But she couldn't help grimacing at thoughts of s.e.x with faceless men, and her ardor cooled. Unfortunately, Isa still didn't have the temperament to f.u.c.k. She'd made love to Mathan and Teve, much to her family's amus.e.m.e.nt, only to lose them both in the end.

In retrospect she knew losing them was all for the best. And the pain of her s.e.xual failure didn't sting as badly as it normally did.

Perhaps when this situation with the dead statesman cleared, she might find her dark captor and try him on for size. At least then she would know if her one experience with him had been a freak occurrence or a new beginning.

She reached the point where her eyelids refused to stay open without effort, and she blearily gazed at the waxing moons before drifting to sleep, unaware of the hungry eyes watching her from the gra.s.s.

Chapter Four.

Giving himself a few hours to rest, Catam woke bright-eyed and eager to meet the dawn.

His internal clock had yet to fail him, and he stared in wonder at the colors streaking Mardu's southern sky. Lavender and indigo blended, fighting the horizon's attempt to turn the sky a mild ocher. The moons still glowed, the pale, purple orbs all the more mysterious as their light grazed his quarry hidden under the overhang.

It had taken much control not to waken her with a drugging kiss the minute he'd found her. But Catam was Xema, and Xema men ruled their baser instincts. Strong in both mind and body, he'd ignored his aching c.o.c.k and forced himself to sleep.

Now, however, he paused in thought and peered over the rock he lay on to stare at the woman lying vulnerably on a bed of moss beneath him.

It was time.

Retreating from the rock, he stretched his frame atop the overhang and nimbly climbed down the outer rock wall. On silent steps he waded through the rock's surrounding gra.s.s and entered the woman's shelter, looming over her as if he owned her.

He grinned, a wide, sensual smile that would have spooked her had she been awake.

He did own her.

Her mind, body and soul, until he brought her to Jintak where she'd await trial for the murder of Statesman Klin, belonged to him.

Even knowing she may have killed the statesman did nothing to ease the ache in his groin. He knew she was dangerous. The effect she had on his c.o.c.k told him that.

And in his experience, everyone possessed a hidden well of darkness. So more than likely she had in fact killed the politician.

What a waste. He scanned her form, partly hidden behind the long jacket that had parted while she slept. One full, rounded breast rose up and down with each breath she took. He couldn't help staring at perfection, and to his delight her nipple peaked under his regard.

She's aware of me at least on one level, he thought with satisfaction. And soon she'll be extremely aware of me.

He silently removed everything but his trousers, waiting for her to peel them off, for her to fit her smooth, deft little hands around his c.o.c.k as she begged him to fill her.