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  Table of Contents

  Excerpt

  Animal

  Blurb

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

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  Note from Lexxie

  eBooks by Lexxie Couper

  Lexxie recommends … Renee George

  Excerpt

  Heart a pounding force in his chest, Zeric stared at his partner. The Yrathian stood—naked—on the other side of the bars, ignoring the screaming, scattering club patrons and the six Boaronians with their blasters leveled on his chest, staring back at him with eyes that seemed somehow unfocussed. His face, once only marred by the ritual scars marking his species’ Master-Pleasurer status, was now a tangled, knotted mess of raw scar tissue and angry flayed flesh, but that didn’t prevent the confused anger etching itself on his features.

  Zeric blinked, not just at the unusual emotion, but at Jak’s very existence. “Jak?”

  “Don’t kill her, Zeric,” he said, his strange glazed eyes flicking to Bhelais before returning to Zeric. “I know you want to, shit, so do I, but don’t. Please.”

  Zeric took a step toward the bars, feeling their electrical energy pull at the fine hairs on his body. “Jak?” he said again, forcing the beast within his blood into silence. Once released, it never wanted to capitulate control, and the seductive blood lust it aroused in Zeric made keeping it under control almost impossible. A fact Hrung Crortek seemed all too aware—

  Zeric’s ragged breath caught. Crortek!

  He tore his stare from Jak, searching above the heads of the dispersing crowd.

  And saw him.

  “I have to admit, life has not been dull since I met you, Terran,” Crortek said, leaning against a thick, golden pillar to the left of the dais, reed-thin body seemingly relaxed. “Sex-slaves who are really Intel-Patrol Corp agents, a man who is really an animal, a loyal slave who defies her master,” his white, pearlescent gaze turned to Jak, “and a corpse who really isn’t a corpse at all.”

  He gave his head an almost imperceptible nod, and the Boaronians moved. Two launched themselves at Jak before he could move, one smashing its fist into his neck, the other ramming its blaster into his chest as he collapsed to his knees.

  “Jak!” Zeric roared, leaping toward his fallen partner.

  As did Bhelais. Her tortured cry of dismay punched at his ears as, naked and bleeding from a deep gash high on her forehead, she scurried across the cage’s floor, her wide, violet stare locked on Jak. “Jak!” she screamed, reaching the bars. A sharp crack rent the air and, with a yelp, she was flung backward, the bars jolting her with enough charge to launch her from the floor in a sickening arch.

  “How touching.” Crortek smirked, his teeth flashing as Bhel, blood trickling from her nose, crawled toward Jak again.

  He turned his attention back to Zeric, smirk stretching wider. “I have always found the concept of love pathetic, yet it presents so many opportunities to someone who knows how to use it.” His head dipped again in that slight nod and without delay, the Boaronians hauled Jak off the ground. “Take him to the initiation room.”

  Animal

  The Boundaries, Book 3

  Lexxie Couper

  Published 2016 by Book Boutiques.

  ISBN: 978-1-944003-51-7

  Copyright © 2016, Lexxie Couper.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of Book Boutiques.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, locales, or events is wholly coincidental. The names, characters, dialogue, and events in this book are from the author’s imagination and should not to be construed as real.

  Manufactured in the USA.

  Email [email protected] with questions, or inquiries about Book Boutiques.

  Blurb

  The stunning conclusion to The Boundaries trilogy begins...

  The brutal crime lord Hrung Crortek has seized Terran Boundary Guardian, Zeric Arctos, hoping to extract Zeric’s werewolf DNA for use in an illegal genetic serum. Now, Jaienna Ti, Intel-Patrol Corp agent and sexual assassin, is on a mission to wipe Crortek from existence—and she's taking her ex-partner, Raq Tornada along for the ride!

  But when Tornada finally reveals—in no uncertain terms—how deeply he's in love with her, Jaienna faces a completely unexpected conflict: does she stay with the man who first shattered her heart, or does she go with the man who taught her to love again—the brooding, untameable werewolf she’s trying so desperately to save?

  When lust, love, and longing become inextricably entwined, the Outer Boundaries becomes more dangerous than ever. Because Jaienna never planned on losing her heart to two men. And those two men never, ever planned on sharing her. But unless Raq Tornada agrees to help Jaienna rescue his rival, Zeric Arctos is already doomed…

  Previously Published

  (2011) 5x5 Publishing

  Dedication

  To Bianca D’Arc, who truly knows how to write amazing, kick-arse sci-fi romance. And who loves Vegemite sandwiches.

  Acknowledgements

  Cover Artist: Valerie Tibbs, Tibbs Design

  Prologue

  Zeric Arctos stared at the naked woman standing on the other side of his cage, the thick Pellion steel bars separating them as surely as the distance between two galaxies. He watched her hands—graceful and slim-fingered—smooth over the flatness of her belly, watched them dip between her firm, toned thighs. A growl sounded in his throat and he shifted, the chink-chink of the metal chains attached to his wrists and ankles just another distant noise. That he was chained made no never-mind to him. That he was caged meant just as little.

  That she was here—Jaienna Ti—mattered most of all. That she stood before him now, teasing him, taunting him, a soft smile on her full lips, a fire in her brilliant green eyes, her nipples puckered, her breasts swollen with desire, awaiting his touch…

  “Jaienna.” Her name fell from his dry, parched lips in a raspy whisper. He shifted again, moving closer to the bars. They would send a charge of electricity through his body stronger than Aglaian lightning if he came too close, but he didn’t care. Jaienna was here. Looking at him. Waiting for him. “Jai.”

  Wordlessly she arched one dark-red eyebrow, her smile growing wider. She slid her hands from between her legs and raised her fingers to her mouth, tongue flicking out to touch the very tips of her middle fingers.

  Zeric sucked in a sharp breath, his cock pumping full with hunger. Another growl rumbled in his throat at the sight of her tongue on her juices-slicked flesh. Deeper, lower. A growl less human and more animalistic. The growl of the beast. He took another step toward the bars, the fine hairs on his flesh standing on end as electricity charged the immediate air around him. Another step and he’d be on the floor in agony, but he didn’t care.

  She’d come for him.

  Touch yourself, Zeric.

  The command slipped from her lips, husky and somehow inaudible. Undeniable.

  He did as she asked, dropping his hands to his rigid cock, wrapping his fingers around its base in a punishing hold.

  His balls grew tight, rose higher. His ass clenched and he pumped hard on the thick organ jutting from his body. Pleasure flooded through him. The chains attached to his wrists smacked against his bunched thighs, stinging like an icy whip, sending a wave of pain through his legs that joined the pleasure coursing through his groin and he growled again, fe
eling his blood thicken.

  Yes, that’s it. Jaienna’s green eyes flashed and her smile stretched wider. Predatory. Let the creature come forth.

  An icy finger pressed at Zeric’s chest and he faltered, staring hard at the woman on the other side of the bars, his grip on his burning erection loosening a little.

  Creature? He frowned. Jaienna had called him many things, had called the beast lurking in his blood many things, but never creature.

  Green eyes flickered and agitation tightened the features somehow not quite Jaienna’s. “Touch yourself, Arctos!” The words sounded coarse. Irritated. “Fuck your own hand, you Terran piece of filth!”

  Icy alarm crashed over Zeric and he blinked, narrowing his gaze on the tall, thin woman standing before him, her brassy blonde hair hanging lank over pallid skin and sunken gray eyes. He straightened, his cock a throbbing rod of denied want, his chest a tight knot of fury and dismay. “Get your Illashionist away from me, Crortek,” he snarled, turning away from the woman who seconds earlier had appeared to be Jaienna to glare at the Ornithion standing on the other side of his cage.

  Hrung Crortek’s lipless mouth pulled into a smug smile and the spines on his back flared. “Only a matter of time, Terran,” the reptilian crime lord murmured, pearlescent white gaze boring into him. “I may not be able to beat you in a physical fight, but I know your weakness now.” He stepped forward, spines flaring wider, needle-sharp teeth glinting in the low light of the room. “And as soon as I discover how, I will use it.”

  Zeric bared his teeth, feeling the beast in his blood roar for release. “You’ll never be able to extract what you need from me, Crortek.” He flicked a contemptuous look at the hovering Illashionist. “No matter how many cowardly tricks you attempt.”

  Crortek tilted his head to the side, gaze contemplative. “Perhaps you are right, Terran. But perhaps you are not. I still have many ‘tricks up my sleeve’ as your race say. Make no mistake, one way or the other, I will discover what makes you what you are. And once I’ve done that, once I’ve extracted that most valuable essence from your system, once I’ve manufactured it into a serum, I will no longer need you alive.”

  “You haven’t a hope in Hades of extracting anything from me.”

  Crortek’s pale eyes flickered. “As I’ve said, I know your weakness. And if a mage-created Jaienna Ti doesn’t work, I can always use the real one.” His lipless grin returned. “I’m sure you will do anything to keep her un-harmed. Won’t you?”

  Chapter 1

  The “viewing” room of the Archeron Cluster Fuck Barge smelt of stale sex and blood. Raq Tornada curled his nose, his grip on the leash in his hand curling tighter.

  “Does my vessel offend you, Trader?”

  The oily question made him turn his head and he gazed indolently at the red-scaled Archeron. “Not at all, Master Slaver.”

  The woman at the end of his leash tilted her head slightly and he gave the length of studded leather a hard tug. “I did not tell you to move, Raavelian.”

  The Archeron’s slitted yellow gaze flicked from Tornada’s face to the stripped woman, taking in the small tattoo almost hidden by the swell of her left breast. A gold tinge of approval shimmered over his shiny scales. “You bring a slave from the Raavelian Alpha slave camps? And you wish to trade her?” The yellow stare left the woman’s naked form, returning to Tornada with a reluctance so obvious, Tornada almost laughed—if he could only control his jealousy, that was.

  He affected a disappointed frown. “Not by choice, Master Slaver. I have come into… how shall I put this… some financial difficulties and I must find the chits to keep my head on my shoulder before Hrung Crortek removes it.” He let his gaze fall to the bare, bowed back of the woman kneeling at his feet. “It pains me to part with Jaienna, but losing my head would pain me more.”

  The Archeron burst into loud guffaws. “Wise, if not wealthy.” He reached down and dug the talons of his right hand into the woman’s chin, forcing her head up, and a wave of pure rage and protective anger roared through Tornada. He ground his teeth. Now was not the time to let his heart control his actions. Otherwise, both he and Jaienna might end up dead.

  “I have heard of the amazing talents of Raavelian Alpha slaves, but have never had the fortune of experiencing them.” He licked his lips, darting a look at Tornada. “Are they as good as they are rumored to be?”

  Tornada smiled, wide and satisfied. “Better.”

  The Archeron crossed his arms across a plated chest both broad and muscled. “Prove it.”

  A bitter wave of triumph washed over Tornada; just the invitation he was wanting. “Slave,” he said, tugging on Jaienna’s leash. “Give the Master Slaver a blowjob.”

  The smooth, bowed back shifted as Jaienna made to move forward on her knees, sending a warm ribbon of something dangerous into Tornada’s groin.

  “Stop,” the Archeron suddenly said, stepping back, yellow eyes unreadable.

  Tornada frowned. “You do not wish to know of her skill? It is a mind-altering experience.”

  The Archeron grinned. “Oh, I wish to know of it, Trader.” His muscles flexed and his scales shimmered a faint orange. “But before her lips touch my cock, I wish to see what she can do with her mouth on you.”

  Eyes narrowing, Tornada studied the Archeron. The hair at his nape prickled and his palm itched for his pulse pistol. The Master Slaver’s request was not normal. No slave trader in their right mind hesitated to accept a slave of the Raavelian Alpha camps, especially one as unique and sensual as Jaienna Ti. He let a look of confusion fall over his face. “Master Slaver?”

  The Archeron’s scales shimmered orange again. “Consider it a gift, Trader. I can see how loath you are to lose possession of the slave—your heart is in your eyes—so let me give you one last moment of rapture before she becomes my property.”

  A wild beat hammered in Tornada’s neck. His gaze fell to Jaienna’s back. One moment of rapture…

  He’d lost his title because of Jaienna. He’d been publicly humiliated because of Jaienna. Flogged almost to death by the man who once had been his future father-in-law because of Jaienna. Had lost any right to his Jjor privilege and station because of Jaienna.

  Had lost his heart to Jaienna. Never to get it back.

  What he would give to feel her lips on his flesh once more. To feel her mouth pull on his cock, her teeth nip at its swollen tip, her tongue massage his rigid length until he screamed her name and erupted with his hot seed.

  One moment of rapture…

  He tightened his grip on her leash. His balls began to grow heavy, dark anticipation flooding them with hungry desire.

  One moment…

  He closed his eyes and pulled in a steady breath. He was not wearing a psych-lock. If Jaienna made him come—and she would—he would be incapable of preventing her slipping into his psyche. His mind would be vulnerable to any suggestion she planted in there. He opened his eyes, staring hard at her motionless back, at the perfect formation of her spine curved into the motionless arc of subservient patience. Jaienna hated him. If he let her into his mind…

  “Trader?”

  The sharp aggression in the Archeron’s voice lifted Tornada’s head. The Master Slaver’s scales were now entirely black. Not a good sign. Archerons only turned black when they were about to attack. “Is there a problem, Jjor?” he asked, dagger-like fangs flashing. “Shall I summon my guards?”

  There’s to be no blood, Tornada. Jaienna’s orders before boarding the barge filled Tornada’s head, her voice low and calm and not to be argued with. We go in. I retrieve the info, plant the suggestion and we leave. Hrung Crortek is not to hear of this at all.

  “Jjor?”

  Tornada lifted his chin and leveled a cold look at the Archeron. “Summon your guards and you insult my trade and the trade of every Jjor in the Boundaries.” He yanked on Jaienna’s leash. “Slave,” he snarled, his blood running hot, his mouth dry. “Show the Archeron how talented you are.”

>   He jerked on the leash again, the long strip of leather snapping tight. For a moment Jaienna didn’t move and a cold sense of unease twisted in Tornada’s gut. But then the finely toned muscles in her back flexed, her ass cheeks tightened and she lifted slightly from her obeisant bow, turning while still on her knees to face him, her head aligned with his crotch, her hands folded loosely in her lap.

  A lump formed in Tornada’s throat. Thick. Solid. He looked down at her, his eyes drinking in the fire-red of her wild hair, the smooth pale perfection of her shoulders. His cock twitched and stiffened, eager for the touch of her lips. His chest however, squeezed tight, knowing the heaven, the sheer rapture of her mouth on his shaft might very well end with his suicide.

  And then she lifted her head and wide eyes the color of Keltarian jade stared at him. Unreadable. Indecipherable. Enigmatic. “As you command, Master,” she said on a husky breath, before reaching forward, unsnapping the fasteners of his trousers and releasing his cock of its snug confinement.

  Her long, tapered fingers closed around its throbbing length immediately, sending shards of liquid pleasure straight into Tornada’s balls. He sucked in a sharp breath, fighting—no, battling for control. The need to bury his fingers in the thick tumble of her hair was overwhelming. To bury them into the cool, silken strands and direct her mouth to his cock, to feel her slide her full lips over its bulbous head. Almost as overwhelming as the inescapable knowledge she was going to kill him, slipping into his mind the second he orgasmed and suggesting something ominous and irresistible. That the pleasure he felt now, was the last he would ever feel.

  He ground his teeth, every fiber of his being taut, every muscle burning. Silently, slowly, she leant forward at the hip and touched the tip of her warm, wet tongue to his turgid erection.

  A low, raw gasp filled his lungs and his eyelids fluttered closed. By Aop, he remembered this. So well. Too well.