Snaring the Huntress (Carnal Thirst 3)

Then she registered how those eyes looked at her, and she swallowed hard.

He walked a slow semi-circle, his body moving with a fluid, powerful grace. Every muscle was clearly delineated, bunching and flexing as he strode with quiet command and made his thorough perusal. He reached out, his fingers brushing the sides of her breasts, tickling her waist, dipping between her legs where his seed leaked from her. “You are so lovely,” he breathed. The smile he gave her was 15

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wistful. “Thank you for this week, Star. It’ll be worth it.” He brushed his lips across hers. “Remember that.”

…when I’m gone.

The words were unspoken, but she heard them just the same.

Consumed by a sudden sadness, her spines retracted, and she slid easily to the floor.

A week.

She lowered her head. Only a week to find a way out of this mess without killing Roark or ruining her career. Star hoped that would be enough time.

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CHAPTER 3

“Did you pick this place because of that harness?” Star asked, lying flat on her back and staring up at the apparatus above the bed.

“Yes. A guy has to be creative when fucking a woman who gets prickly when aroused.”

His smile curved against her shoulder. Roark had the oddest way of sleeping. He wrapped himself around her with their limbs tangled together. At the moment, his hand cupped her breast and his leg was slung over hers. After years of serving on the bench, a position which required frequent travel and killed any chance for a relationship, it was an intimacy that soothed her loneliness.

“Also it was the best way to get the ‘drop on you.’”

“You know,” she grumbled, “that tactic wouldn’t have worked if I’d had any sleep the week before.”

“You haven’t had any sleep this week either,” he said smugly.

“Partly because of that harness, and its endless possibilities. Who knew 17

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the stern Huntress judge had a liking for such erotic play?” He caught her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “You’re just full of surprises.”

So was he. Roark was a multi-faceted individual—one moment teasing and playful, the next abrupt and arrogant. He was still getting used to her disagreeing with him over simple things, like what vid station to watch or which restaurant to order food from. It was clear he’d never held a long-term relationship, but then he’d just turned thirty and he was exceptionally handsome. She wasn’t surprised.

The comm link beeped next to her.

“Yes?”

“The clerk for Justice Yamada has been comm’ing you,” Two-Thousand said.

“He’s been doing that all week.” Star gave a slight shrug, or as much of one as she could manage with Roark’s head on her.

“He has tried several times today, and his last message was very clear—‘Check in, or lose the robe.’”

So that was it then. Their time was up.

Star sighed, her hand stroking through the silky strands of Roark’s hair. “Make the pre-flight arrangements. We’ll be on board within the hour. Star out.”

Roark kissed the tip of her breast and then rolled out of bed. He stretched, his beautiful skin moving sinuously over the muscle beneath.

She watched him, as she had been all week, memorizing every line of his body, every smile, every heated glance.

“I’m not going to your ship, Star,” he said in that deep voice she adored.

“What?” Sitting up, she gaped at him. “You promised!”

His mouth was taut with determination, his sapphire gaze intent.

“Terminate me here.”

“What? Are you insane?”

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“It’s best this way, and you know it.”

After leaping from the bed, she began to pace. “I thought all-you-can-take sex was supposed to prevent madness. Isn’t that right? Did I not fuck you enough?” She threw up her hands and then pointed a finger at him. “Just so you know, sometimes I was really sore, but did you hear me complain? No! I put out all week. You shouldn’t be crazy.”

Roark came to her and pulled her into his embrace. “I love it when you start with the humor. Especially when you do it because the situation is too uncomfortable, or you’re facing questions you don’t want to answer. It’s one of your little quirks.”

She buried her face in his chest, her own so tight she found it hard to breathe. “Don’t ask me to do this, Roark. Not after this last week.”

He tilted her chin up to look at him. “Did it mean something to you, Star?” His gaze searched her face. “Do I mean something to you?”

“Well, you’re pretty to look at. And you’re built in all the right places, and that thing you do with your tongue is awe—”

Roark lowered his head and took her mouth, one hand cupping her breast while the other moved away from her advancing spines. His touch was like fire, it always had been. Everything inside her came alive when he held her.

“Yes,” she whispered when he broke the kiss. “It meant something.”

“Then do this for me.” He cupped her cheek. “If it has to happen, I would rather it be you.”

She shook her head. “You haven’t done anything wrong. No one got hurt, you passed through the cycle. Perhaps I can argue on your behalf.”

“I fled my pre-assigned,” he pointed out gently. “If I get away with it, others will try. It’s a good system, Star. It’s protected a large number of individuals. As the former Jacian Ambassador to the Interstellar 19

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Council, I know how important it is that the Jacian people retain their reputation.”

“Yes, I know all that!” she snapped, pushing away and running her hands through her tangled hair. “But how would you feel if I asked you to kill me?”

Turning to confront him, she was startled to see her blade in his hand. Roark held it out to her, his bearing as proud and noble as always.

“No.” Star shook her head, her eyes wide with horror.

r /> “Your appointment is at risk.”

Her hands clenched into fists. “I hate you.”

He flinched, but kept his hand outstretched.

As she stalked toward him, her eyes narrowed and she swiped away the tears coursing down her cheeks. She drew her arm back when she reached him, and punched him in the shoulder. He took the blow easily.

“You teased me for a week.” Punch “You requested me to come here.”

Punch “You fucked me to exhaustion.” Punch “And now, after I like you, you want me to kill you? Go fuck yourself!”

Roark caught her next blow as it came toward him, and held her hand. “I didn’t request you, Star. I hoped you would be the one to come after me, but I didn’t ensure it. With the sentence for rogues being death, I thought I had a pretty good chance of the Justices sending you, but I didn’t ask for you. There was no way I could have without revealing my plan to run.”

Crying silently, she stared up at him. “Your government requested me in particular. They insisted on it.”

His frown and pursed lips told her that he was as clueless as she was. He released her fist and brushed the tears from her cheeks. “I think you better find out what Yamada wants.”

Nodding, Star moved to the comm link on the nightstand and linked to Two-Thousand.

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“Patch me through to the clerk.” It took only a moment for the clerk’s disapproving features to fill the screen.

“You should at least attempt to make yourself presentable before reporting in, Judge Star.”

“You seemed like you were in a hurry,” she pointed out, smoothing her hair with trembling hands.

“Your input was desired, but the Chief Justices moved forward without it when you could not be reached. Now they wish to know if you’ve terminated the Jacian ambassador yet.”

Star lifted her chin. “Not yet.”

“Excellent, they will be relieved.”

She froze, and felt the answering tension in Roark. “What?”

“The Jacians have requested a reduced sentence based on the ambassador’s prominence and the fact that he did not injure anyone during his heat. The Interstellar Council has agreed that terminating a political figure with the popularity of Ambassador Teron would incite trouble they don’t want. The Jacians pointed out that they agreed to the pre-assigns in a show of goodwill, and they are not obligated to follow the dictate.”