“Gods be damned, you will tell me what you need.” He grabbed my wrists, one in each of his large hands, and splayed them wide above my head in a firm hold. I tried to move them, but I couldn’t. He held me down as he stopped moving, cock buried deep. “Now,” he growled. “Tell me.”
Held down, his cock buried deep but unmoving, commanded to obey, my orgasm ripped through me like an explosion, and I bucked beneath him as his eyes flared wide. A scream tore from my lips at the way I had no choice, no control. The one word, now, was a command I’d obeyed. Pinned to the bed by cock and hands, I had no choice. I didn’t want one but gave myself to him in that. I needed the comfort, the security of his dominance and power. I could let go, to give him everything. I felt his surprise when it was all revealed through the collar,
when he felt my orgasm deep inside of him along with the rippling walls of my pussy. His jaw clenched and my pleasure sent him over the edge with me.
7
Brax, Councilor Roark and Natalie’s private quarters, Xalia City, Trion
* * *
I ignored the bell signal that I would normally use to signify my presence and banged my fist against the door. I didn’t care that it was Roark’s door, or that he was my superior officer. I didn’t care that he was the councilor of the entire Southern continent or whether he might consider my behavior to be rude or disrespectful. I didn’t care about anything but him opening the gods damned door.
When he didn’t answer, I banged some more. Then some more. Harder. If he didn’t open the door soon, I’d kick it down.
Finally, it slid open silently and there stood Roark with his new baby girl, Talia, in his arms. He looked ready to kill me, frightening…until you looked at the tiny infant he was holding. She was pure innocence and sweetness, the contrast not lost on me. I felt the same way when I was with Miranda, gentle yet fiercely protective at the same time. The way Roark glared at me was unlike anything I’d ever seen while on duty. His words shocked me more.
“If you’ve woken Noah from his nap, you will be stunned with my ion pistol until you piss yourself.”
Yes, he was deadly serious about my insult in waking his young son.
Well, I was not in the mood to be trifled with, and I needed answers more than I feared Roark and his ion blaster. “Where is Miranda? And who the fark is the Coalition soldier currently residing in Miranda’s quarters?” He was lucky I hadn’t forced my way past him. Only his complete confusion when I mentioned Miranda’s name had saved him from a solid beating. He had no idea who Miranda was. None.
Which meant she had moved. Where, I had no idea. But she was mine and I would find her. I didn’t care if she’d been transferred to the deserts or the mountains, I would go wherever she was, place my adornments on her and bring her home, to Xalia City, where she belonged. In my bed. In my home. I’d resigned my commission with the Intelligence Core, told Roark that the pirate mess in the south was my last mission. He hadn’t questioned my decision. Hadn’t asked why. Which I’d taken as his implied consent. He knew I had been in a relationship with Miranda, his mate’s best friend from Earth, his son’s honorary aunt. Miranda was family to Roark and his mate, which meant the councilor had to know where she had disappeared to. And if Roark didn’t know, his mate, Natalie, would.
Roark studied me, quietly rocking his infant in his arms. “That soldier is a delegate from the Northern Hemisphere here for the annual meeting of regional alliances,” he said, a dark brow raised. He was not in his usual uniform, but in simple black pants and a gray tunic. The baby in his hold had her mother’s fair hair and coloring, but she stared at me with the same dark eyes as Roark’s. The fact that she was drooling on her father’s arm was plenty of indication she wasn’t following anything we were saying. I could let a few farks slip out with in front of her, but not her older brother, who repeated every curse word he heard with enthusiasm.
“I don’t care where he’s from,” I countered, full of frustration and sarcasm. “Where is Miranda?”
“Why do you care?” It was not Roark who asked, but Natalie. She came up beside her mate, Noah at her side, the little boy’s hair ruffled from sleep. He was holding her hand, his curious eyes staring at me. He knew me, but seemed to be in that stage of needing a little time to orient himself after being rudely awakened before he was ready.
“Should I kill him, mate, for awakening Noah?” Roark asked, staring down at his petite mate.
She shook her head, gave him a small smile. When she turned to look at me, the tender look slipped and was replaced by a less than friendly scowl. “No. He was already awake when the door banging occurred.”
Roark sighed and stepped back, allowing me entry, probably realizing I wouldn’t be deterred. I offered him a nod of thanks and stepped into their spacious quarters. There were toys strewn on the floor, a child-sized table and chairs beneath a window with the view of the city with a little plate and cup on it. It seemed that was where Noah had his post-nap snack.
“I care because Miranda is mine,” I said, turning to face the family of four, but speaking directly to Natalie.
They were a perfect family unit. Roark, strong, powerful and brave, who fiercely protected those he loved. Talia, whom he’d lain down on a blanket on the floor, her little legs pumping in the air. Natalie, who proudly wore his medallion on a chain between her breasts. They were hidden now beneath a soft white top, but many times in the past she’d dressed for formal occasions in gowns with plunging necklines that showed off Roark’s emblems adorning her. Noah, who at two, was just like his father, fiercely watching out for the females. He went and stood beside his sister, mimicking Roark’s wide-legged stance, as he guarded her. From me. Someone his mother was obviously displeased with.
The corner of my mouth tipped up in pride at the two-year-old. He would grow up to be fierce and brave. I wanted a son to guide and help grow into a strong fighter, who would one day protect a mate of his own.
“Yours?” Natalie shook her head. “Day late and a dollar short, Brax.”
“What does that mean?” I understood her words, but the Earth slang was not one I had heard before. A dollar was a form of payment on Earth. Did Natalie expect me to purchase Miranda? That did not make sense and was something an honorable male would never do.
“She’s not yours. She never belonged to you,” Natalie said breaking me from my thoughts. She sat down with her arms crossed over her chest and a fierce scowl on her face, it was clear she was very angry with me. Her toe tapped on the floor in a fast rhythm that further irritated me.
“Where is she?”
“None of your business.” Natalie raised a brow. “And she belongs to someone else now. Someone who will take care of her properly.”
Her words clicked and I straightened. Stiffened. “You mean she belongs to that idiot in her quarters? Over my dead body.”
Natalie harrumphed. “That can be arranged,” she grumbled, turning her attention to the tips of her fingers, which I found odd, until I realized it was a ploy at ignoring me. I was being dismissed.
“Gara,” Roark warned.