The Rogue Captain (The Lost Planet 6) - Page 3

Oh, but I’ll make it clear once whatever the heck he did to me wears off.

Cursed spunk. Who the hell would have thought?

I could have asked Lyric, but we’re not close like that and it would have clued her into the fact that I was dying for some action. Just not this much action. Besides, I don’t want a word of this to get back to my mom when I am just about to see her for the first time in recent memory.

Good going, Willow. Excellent adulting there. Your mother will be so proud.

“Don’t worry, shooting star, the paralysis will wear off with time. I’ve engaged the autopilot for the next several hours, so we’ll do this again once you’re feeling up to it. I’ll make it last as long as you can stand it. I’m going to make you see stars, Willow.” He says my name like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted and my body shivers.

Fat chance, I tell him with my eyes, but he only smiles with that infuriatingly wide grin.

Noting the chill spreading over my flesh, he covers me with a blanket—well, he covers my legs and waist. Theron seems to have an obsession with my breasts, and he leaves them bare, his eyes darting back every few seconds like he can’t help himself. He better look his fill now because I’ll be damned if he will ever, ever see them again in this or any other lifetime.

Once I can speak again, I’ll make him understand. Even someone as thickheaded as Theron won’t be able to mistake that there won’t be anything else between us once I’m done with him.

The only thing that will last for hours is the ringing in his ears.

As though he can’t help himself, he moves closer next to me on the bed and his hands sculpt the weight of my breasts like they were made for him. The feeling must be coming back to me, because I can sense the rough pads of his fingers as they scrape along my nipples, making them pucker for him. He must like it, the bastard, because he smiles. Does he ever stop smiling?

I try to glare at him, but he’s not even looking at me. He only has eyes for my breasts. I hope he’s enjoying himself because I’ve decided I’m not going to yell at him. I’m just going to toss him overboard and figure out how to fly my damn self to the Facility without him. It can’t be too hard to pilot the thing if he can do it.

“The effects of the toxica”—whatever that is, I seethe internally—“shouldn’t last long,” he says, then withdraws his hands with some reluctance. “I should have warned you before, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. It’s a paralytic that will help us conceive a mortling.”

Alarm bells start going off inside my head. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to connect the dots. This bastard thinks he’s going to knock me up. He’s got another thing coming. The last thing I need or want is a baby, let alone his.

This was supposed to be my fresh start, not a chance for me to be tied down to a reckless alien so full of himself he can’t go two seconds without looking at his own reflection.

“I knew it wouldn’t be long before you gave into me. We’re written in the stars, spirited one.”

Gag me.

My fingers twitch and Theron notes the movement with unrestrained glee. “Good, you’ll be able to move soon. I can’t wait to feel your hands on me again.”

I mentally grind my teeth together, then realize I can move my jaw as well. I can’t speak or move anything of substance, but at least this is a good sign. The second I regain control of my body I’m going to put as much space between us as possible.

Note to self: never, ever have a fling with an alien.

“It’s best if you don’t fight it. Relax into the feeling as much as you can to help the effects wear off more quickly. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

He really is a cocky son of a bitch, isn’t he? Where the hell did that come from? He can’t have much experience with women, having been cooped up in the Facility for God only knows how long. It makes me wonder exactly what he’s been doing flying around the planet. He had to have started to think he owned the planet, being the only one of the morts to explore the way he could with the Mayvina. Like it was his own little playground and he was its ruler.

I know one thing for sure: he’ll never rule me.

Slowly, sensation returns to my fingers and toes and I begin to wiggle them in an effort to help it along. All the while, Theron rubs his hands over my limbs, and while it does help to get the blood flowing, it reminds me how much I want to peel the skin from his bones with a good tongue lashing.

Tags: K. Webster The Lost Planet Fantasy
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