Free WarlordsBounty by Cynthia Sax

expanded, the band of flesh solidifying.
    No way. She narrowed her eyes, his grip on her head
holding her to him. He’ll blow out my throat. Zeta slapped his thigh.
    His gaze lowered to meet hers, his eyes feverously bright.
“I’d never hurt you, gerel .” He released her. “Stick out your tongue.”
He yanked on his shaft with a viciousness that made Zeta wince.
    She extended her tongue, waiting impatiently, trusting him
not to hurt her, her pussy throbbing and her nipples tight. Khan stroked
himself, lines etched around his mouth and between his black eyebrows.
    Zeta reached out and grabbed his balls. He jerked forward,
his cock head sliding along her tongue, and hot jets of cum shot into her
mouth, rushing down her throat, making her senses sing, his taste as wild and
raw as he was.
    His seed hit her stomach and she screamed, a euphoria
bursting inside her. Her pussy clenched down on nothing, her body shook, and
she opened her mouth wider, greedily catching all of his seed, needing more,
more, more, addicted to his high.
    As their orgasms eased, he cupped her head, pulling her onto
him, and Zeta gently sucked his softening cock, licking him clean, swallowing
every last magical drop.
    “What was that ?” She sat back on her heels, dazed and
docile.
    “Pure pleasure.” Khan brushed the hair away from her face.
“A pleasure that can only be found with me.”
    Only with him. Zeta met his gaze, his eyes soft and
shining, and her heart squeezed. “Yet you want me to trade you for credits.”
She pushed to her feet, her legs stiff, his cum warming her stomach. “I won’t
do that. I—”
    “An unknown warship has entered the sector, Captain,” the
ship’s guidance system informed them, its voice curt and robotic. A sleek black
vessel dominated the viewscreen, no markings on its bow.
    Zeta scrambled to her seat, fear scattering the last
remnants of passion. “Is that one of yours?”
    “Not any longer.” Khan glowered at the warship, his
expression frighteningly hard, and he wrapped the drying cloth around his
torso. Preparing for battle.
    “The warship is requesting we open hailing frequencies,
Captain.”
    Requesting? Do I have a choice? Zeta’s stomach
twisted, her ship slower and outgunned. “Open hailing frequencies.”
    “Video and audio link established,” the ship responded.
    A scarred face projected onto the viewscreen, the male’s
eyes as black as Khan’s, his coloring remarkably similar. “I’ve come for the
fugitive Khan,” he demanded, forgoing communications protocol, his voice
brusque. “Prepare to be docked.”
    “Wait!” Zeta muted the audio, and turned to Khan. “Friend or
foe?”
    “Foe,” he growled, his fingers curled into huge fists.
“Tolui is no friend to any Chamele . He attacks our planets, kidnapping
our females and children. That ship he’s using is one of ours, stolen early
this season.”
    “Foe then, definitely foe.” She chewed on the inside of her
cheek, her palms moist. “He must be a client. How did he know I had you?” Zeta
shook her head. “I’ll worry about that later.” She released the audio. “You’re
mistaken, captain. There’s no Khan on board this ship,” she bluffed,
perspiration trickling down her spine.
    The warrior tapped his screen. “My scans indicate you have
two life forms on board your ship. Give me visual of the second life form.”
    He knows I have Khan and he wants him dead. If we run,
he’ll blow us both up.
    Zeta took a deep breath. I’m a bounty hunter. Be a bounty
hunter.
    “Do you have the credits?” She stared straight ahead, at the
screen, unable to look at Khan, to see the pain her words had inflicted. “I
require payment before the fugitive is transferred.”
    A sinister smile stretched across Tolui’s face, his black
eyes promising cruelty and death. “I have the credits, little hunter.”
    Little hunter. She twitched, the only male having
ever used that endearment being Khan, her fugitive, her love. Stars.