Captive - Cheryl Brooks Page 0,67

out on top. All we have to do is make sure it turns out that way.”

“Dunno how we’re gonna do that,” Nexbit said with a wag of his head. “Too many variables. Too many uncontrollable variables.”

“Which means we have to make the best of those variables we can control.” Moe gave Lis a nudge and gestured toward the pencil the Rackensprie still held poised in his tiny paw. “Can I have that for a minute?”

Lis handed over the pencil, which Moe subsequently offered to Velkma. “You’ve waited a long time to use this. Put it to good use now and write the most inflammatory captions on those posters you can possibly imagine. Stuff that Pelarus can’t ignore.”

“It will be an honor,” Velkma said gravely. “Referring to him as a greedy, ridge-faced, pompous, evil, five-star waste of carbon might not fit on the page. Nevertheless, I will do my best.”

Moe chuckled. “I have the utmost faith in you. Let those creative juices flow.”

Klara suspected that creative juices wouldn’t be the only ones flowing. Plenty of blood would be spilled before this was over. She could only hope it wouldn’t be the blood of those she loved.

At the moment, however, her Zetithian physiology seemed to be getting the upper hand. Moe’s movements sent his intoxicating scent wafting toward her to curl upward through her nostrils and seep in through her pores. Her mouth watered as though a feast lay before her, just slightly beyond the reach of her starving body. Except food wasn’t the enticement. Moe was. Sweat beaded on her upper lip, she dashed it away with an unsteady hand before gazing in awe at her trembling fingers.

I’m shaking like loose roof tile at the height of the Timavals.

The dizziness had passed only to be replaced with a craving for Moe that was even more profound than it had been when he’d taken her in his arms and carried her to bed. When she finally spoke, she cursed the quaver in her voice. “Um, g-guys, think you can spare Moe for a few minutes?”

“Only a few minutes?” Temfilk gave his fish-like lips a lascivious lick before letting out a cackle of laughter. “Sure you won’t need more time?”

If Moe’s feelings were as strong as hers—and his scent told her they were—thirty seconds would have been enough. Already, she was teetering on the brink of an orgasm simply from looking at him. He’d been irresistible enough before. Now, gazing up at him from where she sat, his strong muscles, firm jaw, and glowing eyes personified her desire. A glimpse of his neck, rising from the low collar of his shirt in a strong column of muscle, bone, and smooth skin, weakened her tenuous grip on reason. When his fiery eyes met hers, a gasp filled her lungs with even more of his delectable scent, creating a sensual bombardment that ripped away the last shreds of her control. Baring her fangs, she leaped from her chair.

Chapter 18

“Well, that was inevitable.”

Moe couldn’t argue with Temfilk’s assessment. In fact, he would have seconded it if his mouth hadn’t been otherwise engaged. His neck still stung where Klara had bitten him, but the pain was nothing compared to the unmitigated passion with which their lips met, entwining as though each soul sought to be devoured by the other. This relentless craving… He didn’t know how it could possibly be overcome, nor did he want it to be. At some point, the heat would subside to a more manageable level, or at least to one that was more discreet. For the moment, however, he didn’t really care who witnessed their desire for one another. He’d already been intimate with her in a room filled with their sleeping cohorts—no doubt a foreshadowing of ecstasies yet to come. A kiss was far less risqué, although no less revealing.

Wrapped around him as she was, he had no difficulty navigating the distance between the kitchen and the bedroom. The door was kicked shut with a resounding slam that barely masked the whoops of delight from their companions. He would’ve given them a parting shot—“Be right back” or “Don’t wait up”—but the time for words was past. His mate was in his arms, demanding his full attention, and he had no intention of disappointing her.

His body was ready, his cock stiff and aching with need as moisture began to flow from the coronal lobes. Only clothing came between them and was feverishly discarded. The bed sank with their combined weight, enveloping them