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what he’d done before, just enough pressure to almost feel good. He nipped at it until she was ready to scream at him and then moved to the other nipple and teased it in the same way. She curled her fingers tightly into her palms, trying to close her mind to the movement of his lips. It was just enough pressure to make it impossible to ignore and not nearly enough to satisfy. Her skin felt as if it was growing too tight. The warmth in her belly spread outward, warmed her skin and then heated it more until it was stinging, driving her crazy.

“What was the plan then?”

Dizzy from her gasping breaths, Bronte opened her eyes and tried to glare at him. “I didn’t have a plan,” she finally muttered.

“No plan?”

There was disbelief in his voice, and that didn’t augur well for an end to the torment. She licked her lips with a tongue that felt almost as dry. “I was just wondering where we were.”

He lifted his head. “Try again.”

“That was all … really,” she said a little weakly. She was not going to tell him about her half-baked plan to take over the ship when they killed each other! He was bound to think she’d been plotting to try to murder them and she would really rather not give him that idea.

He went back to teasing her with the tip of his tongue. She struggled against him again until she couldn’t find the strength to struggle any more. “Gideon! Please!” she said a little desperately.

She nearly came out of her skin when his hot mouth closed over her nipple and suckled. She hadn’t realized until that moment that the blood was building tighter and tighter until her nipples had grown painfully swollen. For several moments it was almost more torture to have him tugging at the engorged bud than it had been when he’d been driving her crazy with the teasing. She lost her breath, groaned when she finally managed to fill her lungs again.

The muscles of her sex clenched so tightly her belly cramped painfully. Moisture flooded her nether regions.

She began to think she was going to faint … or die if he didn’t stop. The only thing that she could think of that could be worse was if he did stop.

He stopped. She was nearly sobbing for breath by then.

“You were studying the star charts.”

Bronte twisted her head away. “To figure out where we were … in case.”

“In case?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

She refused to look at him. When she didn’t answer him, he dropped his head and took her other nipple in his mouth, suckling on it hard enough she cried out at the molten tide that washed through her. It was tortuous to feel the tug of his mouth on her … in the most wonderful way imaginable.

She began to feel desperate for the feel of him inside of her, plunging into her. The muscles along her channel clenched and unclenched frantically for the feel of him.

He stopped abruptly, released his hold on her wrists and shoved away from her. He’d already climbed off of the bed before it dawned on her that he was leaving her.

She still couldn’t believe it!

She shoved herself up on one arm and glared at him when she saw he was striding toward the door, feeling disbelief yield to outrage and then pure rage. He really did mean to leave her like this! “You son-of-bitch!” she snarled at him, wishing she had something to throw at him … like a knife. “I will kill you if you ever do that to me again, you asshole!”

He halted at that, twisted his head to glance at her over his shoulder. “I am son of none. I had no mother,” he growled. He hesitated. “You will not go near the bridge again. There will not be an ‘in case’. We are much harder to kill than you can possibly imagine.”

That comment washed over her like a douche of ice water. Dismay followed it. She didn’t want them dead! How could he think she wanted that! It was just a figure of speech. She hadn’t really meant it, for god’s sake! It wasn’t like she could do anything to them, damn them!

She felt like crying. Her chest tightened. Her throat closed. Her eyes and nose stung with the need and they just wouldn’t come.

She got up when she realized she couldn’t find the relief she needed and went in to take a bath. The water, usually so pleasantly soothing, didn’t soothe her at all. Her entire body still ached from being so aroused and then left unfulfilled.

Which made it impossible to ignore the fact that she wanted to kill him for arousing her and then not finishing, not because he’d aroused her to start with.

“Bastard!” she yelled angrily.

He had no mother … no father … no family … no life beyond what he had here. She felt like crying all over again when his words echoed in her mind, this time from remorse—‘I had no mother’. She did cry that time, hurting for him, for them.

Chapter Eleven

Gideon settled heavily in the command chair. Adjusting his aching member and painfully throbbing balls, he draped a knee over one arm of the chair, slouching tiredly in his seat as he stared unseeingly at the forward vid screen.

“We have checked everything twice. She did not tamper with any of the instruments.”

Instead of glancing at Gabriel when he spoke, Gideon lifted one hand and rubbed it down his face, settling it over his lips and chin for several moments before he lifted it away from his face and frowned down at the tremor in his hand. “That is good at any rate,” he said finally, dropping his hand to the arm of his chair.

“You did not hurt her?”

Gideon’s head swiveled sharply in Gabriel’s direction. “I would not so far forget myself no matter how angry!” he growled.

Gabriel stared back at him unflinchingly. “You and

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