Page 7 of Tempting Jupiter (Arena Dogs #2)

Chapter Six

Jupiter deepened his breathing and kept his eyes closed. His lungs filled with the warm, mysterious scent of the woman pressed against him.

At least he knew where he was—sort of. In a metal bunk, in a spaceship that was likely taking him back to Roma Rex.

That was as specific as he could be. He didn’t know how far they were from Roma or what other worlds might be close.

He’d rarely concerned himself with the universe beyond the domed city where he’d been engineered to fight and die in the arena—to be born and die a slave.

His past experience with human women hadn’t prepared him for how good the tickle of this female’s breath would feel against his bare skin.

Her arm pressed lightly against his chest, positioned precisely between the two wounds she’d treated.

No human woman he’d met previously would have inconvenienced themselves for a Dog.

Feeona’s legs were tangled with his, her bent knee resting just inches below his cock.

If he wrapped his hand around her thigh, he could pull that leg up and thrust against her.

Would she turn into him? Rub against him?

Would she turn submissive like many of the females of his kind?

Or would she use him for her own release and leave him aching as the human women at the Lady’s Wall so often did?

There were no chains here. No drugs to prevent his orgasm.

No guards standing over them with stun sticks.

He could take what he wanted from her. She wouldn’t be able to stop him.

He could take away her choice as the patrons had done to him with their drugs and grasping hands and cold hearts.

The memory stirred the coals of his anger.

Adrenaline surged through him. His heart pumped blood through his arteries. His senses expanded until the scent of the woman filled his nose and the sound of her breathing filled his ears. The beat of her heart pulsed against him, everywhere their bodies pressed together.

He knew the moment she realized he was awake. Her breathing changed. A thread of tension wove through her muscles, then they wound tight. She was going to move away.

He surged over her, rolling her to her back as he dragged her to the center of the small bunk.

Well, that proved both his arms were working again.

He lowered his body until the swell of her breasts cushioned his ribs, then pushed his hips against her, nestling his cock into the dip of her belly and giving her no room to move.

He wrapped his good hand around her neck and tightened his fingers, enough to ensure she understood the threat, but not enough to restrict her breathing or mark her delicate skin.

His eyes raked over her surprised face. Pink lips opened on a gasp, tempting him to taste them… or slip his tongue inside and fill the moist cavern of her mouth.

Her eyes widened and then blinked, slow and measured. “Does this mean you’re finally feeling fit enough to kill me?”

Even as he ground his teeth in frustration at her lack of fear, he fought the urge to chase after the tongue that flitted across her lips.

Her hips lifted in a motion that caressed his aching cock. “Or did you have something else in mind?”

He tightened his grip around her neck to silence the taunt she surely intended to follow.

Her choked gulp for air made him grin with satisfaction.

She’d probably thought she could trick him.

Use his body against him. She’d use him to fulfill her needs with no intention of meeting his.

It was the way of human females. But this woman didn’t have the drugs the patrons used to torment a Dog until he begged for their body, then take their release and leave the Dog with aching balls, cowering in humiliation.

Jupiter growled in the back of his throat. He dipped his head until her narrow little nose brushed his. “I haven’t decided yet.”

She strained to swallow beneath the grip of his fingers on her throat. If he decided to kill her, it wouldn’t be this way, he realized. She’d saved his life. He couldn’t allow her to suffer the slow agony of strangulation. It wouldn’t be a fit repayment.

His grip eased, but her breathing didn’t deepen. It came in short, shallow pants. Her pupils had dilated. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo beneath her ribs. Fear?

Or arousal?

Her body didn’t struggle against him. She didn’t beg for her life. Her natural scent had strengthened. His senses told him in that moment she was all warm, willing female—an almost irresistible temptation.

He eased up, a small push-up meant to test his own strength and give her the illusion of freedom. To test her compliance.

She slipped her freed hands to his sides, pressing into his muscles.

“Umm, this is nice and all, but are you sure you’re up for it?

I mean, I know you’re up,” she tilted her hips to make her meaning clear.

“But are you really up to it?” She gave him a smile that hinted at mischief and stroked her hand against him, following the contour of his muscles.

She ruined the seduction by raising and lowering her eyebrows in a ridiculous manner.

Jupiter had to fight not to laugh. In the end, he gave in to the humor.

His lips trembled, his cock twitched, and his belly tightened on a chuckle—and that shot a jolt of pain through his chest. He held back the groan that tried to force its way up his throat, but she must have seen something in his face.

“Yeah.” Her hands flexed against him. “ That’s what I meant.” She shoved gently. “You shouldn’t be straining those seals.”

He let her ease him to the side, then sat with his back against the wall and his long legs stretched out along the bed. “Are you sure you’re not a medic?” Those careful hands were already checking the dressings over the wound in the center of his chest.

Her eyes did a little roll. “Smart ass.” She let her fingers trace one of his older scars. “With as many injuries as you’ve had, I’ll bet you could have done a better job with that sealer than I did.”

The ghost-like touch of her fingertips should have tickled. Instead, it sent a call straight to his cock. “Maybe.”

Her eyes flashed up to meet his. “If you’d been conscious.”

Likely, he’d have bled out if she hadn’t aided him.

He frowned at the thought. She was human and might well have another motive for her actions, but he hadn’t seen any hint of it.

He closed his hand over hers to stop her distracting touch.

“No matter your motives, you might well have saved my life. Until I discover what profit there was in it for you… I thank you.”

Her eyes sparkled with merriment. “That must have been painful for you.” She pulled her hand free and placed it over her chest. “Be still my heart. Dare I believe you’ve decided not to kill me after all?”

Jupiter rubbed at his shoulder and tested the movement of the joint. Whatever she’d done had left him with only the mildest of pain. He stretched then turned on the hard metal bunk until he could put his feet on the floor. “I have decided to wait on that decision—for now.”

She slapped at his arm and laughed out loud.

The fastener that had been holding her hair back had disappeared.

With laughter lighting her face and her hair in curls down her shoulders, she was transformed from plain to beautiful.

Her laugh wasn’t the sharp, cruel jeering of the patrons. It was soft and sensual and tempting.

As she quieted, her head tipped and she studied him. Her lips were still curved in a half-smile, but her eyes had gone from sparkling to intense. “Has anyone ever been kind to you just because they didn’t have a reason to be cruel?”

“Arena Dogs treat each other with respect.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

Jupiter didn’t understand her question. What was kindness after all? His pack brothers watched his back. They shared whatever they received equally. Food. Blankets. Whatever. Was that what she meant?

She stretched, then slipped off the bunk and pulled on her boots.

There wasn’t much room in the small space, so he remained seated.

An unfamiliar tension crept through his muscles under her scrutiny.

Her arms hung loose at her sides, her hands open.

There was no threat of violence, but that fact didn’t put him at ease.

“Do you ever relax?” She frowned and that unsettled him. Had he done something to cause her shift in mood?

He nodded. “When I’m with my pack brothers and there is no arena match to fight, no training left in the day.”

“Well…” She reached out and touched her fingertips to the thin, silvery scar that ran from his shoulder to his wrist. “I can’t conjure up your friends, but there’s no match and no training to worry about.

We’re locked together in a cell with nothing to do for at least—” She blinked and paused before going on. “At least the next hour.”

As her fingers traced the scar down his biceps, she wedged between his legs and kneeled on the floor at his feet.

She settled one arm over his thigh, her hand lightly gripping his quadriceps, and used her free hand to lift his palm to her face.

He watched, curious, as she pressed her lips to his wrist where the scar ended. “What are you doing?”

She smiled against his skin. “I’m being nice to you.”

Lowering her gaze to his wrist, she twisted his arm to reveal the vulnerable network of veins. He tensed instinctively, prepared for an attack, but the flick of her tongue, hot and moist, against his pulse sent a spike of surprise through him that tensed his muscles for a whole different reason.