Page 223 of Gladiators of the Vagabond Boxset

Sunder

I knew I had to count myself lucky for not being noticed by Carator, but I kept feeling this uneasy dread all evening.

It was rowdy and loud in the barracks; liquor was being passed around, and trays laden with food dotted the tables in the communal meal room.

The guards not on duty—their numbers swelled by the entourage the Crimelord had brought with him—were playing card or dice games.

There was a sense of urgency—a need to get things in motion and break out of this place soon.

To do that, I needed to get a call out to my brothers, and I needed to get those landing codes.

I hadn’t counted on such an influx of guards—the added security now that Carator had arrived.

I should have, though. I should have known that he’d come to inspect his new property.

This was going to make our escape extra hard, and it had already gotten exponentially more difficult with a female and a second child to take into account.

Saying goodbye to Jett, as well as to Amar and Aggy, had left me with a bad taste in my mouth.

If Carator was truly interested in the human, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

What I didn’t know was how fast the male would move if he set his mind to it, or if he’d be distracted by other things first. Easier conquests.

With the absence of Uron, we were left much more to our own devices that evening, though, so I had had the chance to tuck my son into bed. That had been rewarding, even if I hated that I had to leave him in that locked room for the night. He was probably very safe there; that was a small comfort.

Most of that evening, I spent circling the various gaming tables, pretending to drink as much as my coworkers.

My thoughts were with Aggy and the children, but I forced myself to be friendly and easygoing while I pumped the newcomers for information.

I needed to get a good idea of what their duties and schedules would be like, and whether they had changed anything about the planetary defense system that I needed to know about.

By the time it was almost midnight, I slipped out, fuming at myself for not acting sooner, for thinking I had this much time.

I should have pressed harder to get appointed to the training ward, but I’d been worried it would seem strange.

With this many guards around, what risk would I ask my brothers to take just to rescue myself and my son?

Normally, I would take a moment for a flight, exercising my body and clearing my mind.

If I thought it was safe, I’d shoot off a call to the Vagabond, updating them with what I knew and asking for intel.

This time, I didn’t risk it, because I wasn’t certain how closely they were watching that.

My wings took me somewhere else anyway, sending me over the low outbuildings and soaring down into the training courtyard.

I was in front of Aggy’s door before I could second-guess myself. I hated being impulsive, but sometimes it was worth the risk; this one was minimal anyway. Most males here wouldn’t think twice about it—given the chance, they would no doubt do the same.

When I knocked on her door, I fully expected her not to answer it—or, if she did, that she’d send me packing.

It took so long that I almost left. The door opened just as I had turned my back to it, the soft whisper of the panel retracting alerting me.

Looking over my shoulder, I was met with the same vision from last night—only this time, all the hostility was gone.

Aggy stood in the doorway, soft light illuminating her from behind.

She wore a nearly see-through white shirt, and her long brown hair draped around her shoulders.

Her shapely legs were encased in snug pants that showcased every single curve.

Where her expression had been closed-off and hostile last night, this time she was smiling softly, in invitation.

“Sunder,” she said, her voice husky from sleep.

I’d woken her, but I didn’t regret it—she looked like a vision.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, and her voice—and the smile—was turning my insides to mush, much like my stone outside was slowly crumbling, strained from holding my battle-form as long as I had.

I shoved that unpleasant thought away, unwilling to give it any time tonight.

Without a word, I stepped close to the human female, towering over her and forcing her to back up into her room.

The panel swished closed behind me, and the moment it did, my wings curved forward, capturing her inside their cocoon.

My hands followed after, curling around her soft, curvy middle and tugging her closer until our bodies were touching from the knees up to her shoulders.

I could feel the warm globes of her breasts as they pressed against me, and smell her delicious, sweet scent.

She made a soft, gasping sound, her hands coming up to rest against my shoulders.

I hated how little I could feel that touch.

My battle-form wasn’t suited for feeling pleasure; the skin was hard and rough as stone.

That didn’t matter when Aggy tilted her head back, her gaze heavy-lidded.

She licked her lips, her hands sliding up my shoulders and around my neck.

I leaned down at the first bit of pressure.

Despite coming here fully intending to steal, at the very least, a kiss, now I worried that she would even want to.

A Tarkan in battle-form was not a pretty sight to most species.

I’d been away from home so long that I’d gotten used to seeing other features more than those of my own kind.

She didn’t hesitate, rising on tiptoe to press soft lips against my mouth.

A growl erupted from my chest, rumbling through my body.

My palms were on her waist, my wings curved around her back; I had her right where I wanted her.

The primal urge to make sure she knew that—and that I wasn’t going to let her go—rushed through me.

I hadn’t felt the urge to rut this strongly in more than twenty years.

Shocked by the intense rush of feeling, I forced myself to focus only on the here and now—on her mouth on mine.

I ran my palms up her sides, around her small rib cage, and over the slender, wingless shoulder blades.

She felt so soft, so fragile—the contrast between my battle-form and her soft skin was huge.

Something inside me unwound a little, tension leaving my body that I hadn’t even realized I’d been carrying.

I backed up a step, pulling the warm, willing woman in my arms with me until my back pressed against the door.

Curling my arms more tightly around her, I lifted her from the ground and focused on the warm, wet cavern of her mouth.

If there was one part of my body that was sensitive, it was the inside of my mouth, my tongue, so I set out to explore her with it.

I tasted the soft curve of her jaw, the roundness of her cheek, the sensitive and slightly salty spot right beneath her ear.

I was rewarded by a husky moan when I nibbled on her earlobe.

In response, I felt her rake her blunt little fingernails up the back of my head.

Maybe she understood just how insensitive my skin was, or maybe, in the heat of the moment, she just happened to use the right pressure—but I felt it down to my bones, a deep, languid pleasure. I needed more of that. I wanted it.

When I hiked her higher in my arms so that I could nibble on the curve where her shoulder and neck met, Aggy curled her legs around my waist. What I didn’t expect was the intense heat she radiated, her thin pants no barrier as her center pressed against my lower belly.

A groan rumbled from my chest, my cock rising beneath my loincloth so eagerly that it pressed against the soft curve of her rounded bottom.

“Yes,” she moaned, tilting her head to give me more access.

“That feels so good.” She was holding on to my shoulders, pressing her core against my abs, and shamelessly rubbing herself against me.

I loved it. I wanted to press her down into her bed, rip these flimsy clothes from her body, and bury myself in her welcoming heat.

From the way she was clinging to me, I could tell she was fully on board with that plan.

Opening my wings so I could locate the bed, I started forward, only to pause in my tracks when a soft tapping sounded through the wall.

What was that? It was so out of place that alarm bells went off in my head.

A creature in the pipes? A guard approaching outside?

“What is it?” Aggy asked, confusion coloring her voice.

She lifted her head away from my neck to tilt it side to side, listening.

Suddenly, she was all business, pulling away from me, forcing me to put her down on her feet.

She yanked a sweater from a nearby chair and pulled her head through it, coming out of the head hole with a tousled head of hair she paid no attention to; she even left her long hair tucked into the sweater when she rushed for the door.

“What’s going on? Aggy, what is happening?” I asked her as I let my hands fall to my belt, checking that my weapons were all there. My body didn't appreciate the rapid context switch, but her clear alarm quickly dispelled any amorous thoughts. This was urgent.

“The boys, they’re calling for me,” Aggy responded just as she pressed her hand to the door panel.

“Amar probably had a nightmare.” She ducked her head out, checked left and right, and dashed out.

I was left staring after her disappearing form.

A nightmare? I followed after her at a slower pace, checking the hallway to make sure it was deserted as she had, but much more thoroughly.