Taken By Terror by Lolita Lopez
Chapter Twenty-Two
Groaning at the wicked sensation of Maisie’s mouth on his shaft, Terror wondered if he could convince her to wake him up like this every morning. She might have been a novice when he first introduced her to this sex act, but her enthusiasm for practice had helped her reach expert status very quickly. She fluttered her tongue along the underside of his crown, and he swore under his breath.
Wanting to watch her, he threw aside the sheet and rose up on his elbows for a better view. She smiled up at him, her lips stretched by his cock, and his heart stuttered in his chest. Fuck. She was so beautiful, too beautiful for a mean, scarred, ugly bastard like himself. Her breasts brushed his thighs as she bobbed up and down on his erection. He could feel the pebbled points of her nipples grazing over his skin, and it drove him crazy.
Desperate to have her, he sat up and grasped her upper arms. She popped off his cock, leaving it wet and shiny, and glanced at him with confusion. He didn’t waste time explaining what he wanted. Using his greater height and strength to his benefit, he lifted her up onto his lap and then spun her around so she faced his feet. Without a second of hesitation, he grabbed her hips and dragged her cunt right to his mouth, falling back on the bed as he ran his tongue over her.
Her squeal of excitement made his cock throb. She tried to pull away from his stabbing tongue, but he overpowered her, yanking her down onto his mouth. She made another mewling sound of protest that faded into a moan as he suckled her clitoris in the way he had learned she liked. Surrendering to his desires, she fell forward and attacked his cock with fervor. Every lick of his tongue was met by the incredible glide of her pouty mouth along his shaft.
It didn’t take long for either of them to get close to a climax. He wanted her to go first, but the little brat palmed his sac and teasingly brushed her thumb between his buttocks. He lost it at the playful touch in a place where he had never allowed any woman to go. He tried to hold back, but Maisie wouldn’t have it. She took him deep, sliding down his cock until he could feel the heat of her throat. His orgasm punched the air out of his lungs, and he shuddered at the wicked sensation of her drinking down his seed while gently pumping his shaft.
He was still shaking from his climax when he gripped her hips and brought her sex right back where he wanted it. He shifted her slightly, pulling her hips up a little higher, and went crazy between her legs. She scratched at his thighs and clawed at his calves, her hips rocking back and forth as she chased her orgasm. The tension in her legs, and the sudden slip of wetness told him she was right there.
Returning the favor, he ran his fingers along the cleft of her buttocks. She gasped, and he thrust his thumb into her slick pussy while circling her anus with his fingers. She cried out as she came and pressed back against his mouth to draw out her orgasm. When she finally had enough, she slumped forward on top of him, resting her face against his thigh and stroking his leg.
He enjoyed the view of his mate sprawled on top of him, her naked body flushed with satisfaction. He idly rubbed her bottom until she shifted and crawled toward him. Opening his arms, he silently beckoned her to settle in closer.
Enjoying their cozy embrace, he tried not to think about the danger that awaited them. It was easy to pretend this was their everyday life—lazy morning sex, sharing meals, spending quiet time together, more sex and playful teasing. It was the dream of every man who served, and he had finally accomplished it. He wanted a future with Maisie, one filled with love and children and happiness.
Yet he could so easily see this being one of the last mornings he ever spent with her. The emotional side of his brain screamed for him to abandon their plan to expose the Splinter infiltration. The rational side reminded him that he had a duty to his fellow soldiers to do the right thing. Devious had entrusted this information to Maisie knowing she would see it through. If Devious was dead, if giving her that chip was his final act of courage, Terror had to finish it, even if that meant he had to pay the ultimate price.
As his mind raced with troubling thoughts, Maisie’s hand had been stroking his chest. When it lingered in one place for a few seconds longer, he lifted his head so he could her pretty eyes. Her brow was furrowed with concern. “What?”
She pointed at him and then spelled out the word hot.
“We just had sex,” he pointed out, earning a roll of her eyes.
She sat up and touched his forward, laying her much cooler palm against his skin. She held his gaze as if to say, “See?”
Unbothered, he dragged her hand away from his forehead and kissed her palm. “Males of my race run hot. I’m fine. It’s from the physical exertion.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure.”
She seemed skeptical but didn’t push it. Instead, she asked him if he wanted to shower with her. As if he would turn down the chance to get his hands on her body! What should have been a quick shower turned into half an hour of soapy, slippery play that ended with Maisie bent over the sink while he pounded into her from behind, both of them still dripping with water. Watching her face in the mirror as she came was a moment he wouldn’t ever forget.
After, they lounged together in the living area of the suite and enjoyed another room service meal before digging back into the digital files from Devious. Sorting them proved to be simple enough. They added color coded labels to each file according to its contents. Sabotage, provocations, false flag operations, et cetera.
Every now and then, Terror would come across the name of a soldier or airman he knew well. Sometimes he would read operation debriefings that he had been involved in, seeing it from the other side and realizing how close he had come to being killed. The more he uncovered, the more he realized how many times Devious had secretly orchestrated an escape for Terror and his team.
Engrossed in old memories, Terror didn’t notice Maisie’s concerned expression as she bent over a small notebook, her pencil gliding across the pale green paper in hasty scrawls. When he did finally notice, he recognized the look of fear on her face. His body stiffened with apprehension as he tapped the table to get her attention. “What did you find?”
Her head popped up, and she stared at him wide-eyed. “What is today’s date?”
He adjusted his glasses and drew a blank. Normally, he could answer that question without thinking. On the run and hopping through space, he had lost track of time. He lifted his watch and showed her the time and date.
She read the watch’s display and blanched. “Shit.”
Defecate. Urgent.He ignored the incorrect translation projected on the lenses. At any other time, it would have been amusing, but this wasn’t the time for humor. “Tell me.”
“I thought these were glitches in the files,” she explained, shifting closer to him and showing him scribbled columns of numbers in her notebook. She took the tablet from him and scrolled until she found what she needed. She pointed out the font change in various numbers.
After the first few, he recognized the pattern she had discovered in four- and five-digit numbers that all started with 700. He didn’t see a number higher than 26 tacked onto the end. “They correspond to the alphabet.”
She nodded. “It’s the first code Devious ever taught me. Really basic.” She waved her hand as if it didn’t matter. “Before we went out last night, I started writing these down, thinking it might not actually be a glitch. It starts in the very first file and keeps going, looping over and over with the same message.”
“What does it say?”
Maisie turned the page littered with columns of numbers to show him the deciphered code. “Look.”
“Jubilee. Cenotaphs. Coordinated. Slaughter.” Terror read the words, and his blood ran cold. Every year, every Harcos male and their families, if they had them, gathered at the closest memorial to honor their dead. It was a holiday that was observed without fail, year after year. The pieces fell into place, and his gaze snapped to Maisie’s. “A coordinated attack on Valor Day?”
She nodded. “It has to be, right? The Jubilee Celebration is tomorrow. Every ship and base will have a memorial ceremony at their Cenotaph of Valor.”
“Shit.” Awash in horror, Terror shot to his feet. They had less than twenty hours to avert absolute carnage. “Shit.”
Maisie stepped in front of him. “How close is the nearest Alliance ship? Or base?”
“Too far,” he grumbled, already thinking about that option. “We’ve crossed a least four sectors by now.”
Maisie held up a hand, silently telling him to wait, and then she hurried to the information console mounted near the door of the suite. He followed her and watched as she navigated to the ship’s itinerary. There was a stop coming up in seven hours on a planet that catered to tourists seeking a romantic escape. The surface of the bitterly cold planet glistened like gemstones, and the nearest stars created multiple sunrises and sunsets that were hailed as some of the most beautiful in the universe.
“Is there anything near here?” she asked hopefully.
At first glance, there wasn’t. It was a sector of the galaxy that offered nothing to the Alliance or the Splinters. No minerals or metals. No agriculture. There weren’t enough women there to fill even a single Grab.
From the far recesses of his mind, he dredged up a memory of an outpost planet nearby. “There used to be an outpost here. A long, long time ago,” he added while tapping at the screen. “It had been abandoned before I even started at the Academy, but it was on the maps. They finally scrubbed it a few years ago during an update.”
He scanned the star chart until he found it. There! That tiny insignificant blip of a planet.
“This one,” he said, tapping the screen to enlarge the planet. It didn’t have a real name, just a few letters and numbers for identification. “4S-8KN. It’s been abandoned a long time, but even if the base was decommissioned, there is still equipment there we can use to broadcast a signal. We always leave communications equipment behind, just in case.”
“4S-8KN?” Maisie visibly recoiled. “Are you sure?”
“That’s what it says,” he replied, wondering why she was so upset.
“My mother,” she said. “My father. They were there. That’s what she called the orphanage where she grew up!”
Terror frowned with confusion. “That doesn’t make sense. Why would she have been sent to an outpost planet?”
“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t forget a detail like that. She told me numerous times about her time there, about meeting my father there.” Maisie’s expression turned to one of determination. “We have to go there. I want to see it.”
Terror’s stomach felt uneasy. He didn’t believe in fate, and this seemed entirely too coincidental. Yet, he couldn’t deny that something about this seemed right. Every choice they had made had led them to this point. If they turned back now, would they regret it?
He grasped her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “Let’s go.”
