Love Like No Other Read online

  Love Like No Other

  By Michelle Howard

  Published by Michelle Howard

  Copyright © 2015 by Michelle Howard

  Edited by: Megan Records

  Cover Design by: Gene Mollica Studios

  License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this novel with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please buy an additional copy for each recipient.

  No part of this book may be distributed in any format, in whole or in part without the express written consent of the author.

  Thank you for respecting the author's hard work.

  This is a work of fiction and is not a reflection or representation of any person living or dead. Any similarity is of pure coincidence.

  Chapter 1

  “Three hits, Cordie,” Cellie called out, resuming her fighting stance.

  Her opponent shifted her legs wider apart, the two short swords held aloft in a competent grip. “Ready when you are, Cellimina.”

  Cellie winced at the hated name, but what did she expect? Cordie did what she wanted and very few dared challenge her.

  “Go!”

  They charged each other over the blue padded mats, arms swinging in coordinated movements as their swords clashed against one another, broke apart, and slammed together again. Cellie modulated her breathing for the fast paced sparring match and pivoted on her hip, scoring a strike across a white clad shoulder.

  “My point,” she yelled as she jumped back.

  Cordie hissed out a curse, spinning on her heels and lashing out with her left. Cellie moved to block the blow and ducked the sword aiming for her neck from the right. Feet scuffed back and forth as they each sought an opening. Cordie leaped backward, avoiding the strike Cellie drove toward her mid-section.

  “Damn you, Cellimina! That was close.” Cordie paused, hands braced on her waist and swords angled downward as she panted.

  Cellie chuckled and lunged forward, but Cordie raised her weapons in time and danced away. Cellie pulled back slightly, ensuring her strike missed. As soon as Cordie recovered her balance, Cellie tagged her leg with the tip of her blade. “My point.”

  Cordie’s low growl had Cellie laughing once more. Their swords clashed in a whirlwind of metal as they ducked and dodged in a circle. Cellie leaped back to avoid the one-two slash of Cordie’s swords and tapped her own on Cordie’s exposed knee. “Point and match.”

  “You were too close. I couldn’t maneuver properly,” came the grumbled complaint as Cordie lowered her weapons.

  Cellie pushed up her face guard. Cool air from the venting system chilled her sweat-dampened cheeks. “If you’re in tight quarters, fighting an opponent close could mean the difference between living and dying.”

  Cordie shoved up her own mesh face guard, features flushed, and glared. “Everything’s a lesson with you isn’t it?”

  “Are you speaking aloud or really asking?” Cellie handed off her swords to the helper who came running over.

  “Apparently I’m just speaking aloud.” Cordie passed over her swords and brushed at the creases on the white one-piece jumpsuit they both wore.

  “Your Majesty, your last appointment for the day has arrived and word has come through that the Zanian IX is in orbit.”

  Cellie stiffened. Talire, the Queen’s advisor, barely paused in her running monologue as she handed over a towel.

  Her Royal Highness, Queen Cordelia Sarina Jessin, removed her protective head gear and shook out black, waist-length waves with a lone streak of red in the front. Another servant took the mask before Cordie’s fingers loosened her grip. She faced Talire, back straight, red mystic eyes glowing, and ignored the towel. “Have several rooms prepared for Commander Brom. I’m never sure how many of his security team will accompany him.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” Talire tapped her earpiece, conveying the orders.

  Cordie glanced at Cellie. “Change and meet me in the receiving hall in an hour. I’m sure old Barama will try and go over his allotted time. You can be my excuse to cut things short to meet with the Commander.”

  A smile curved Cellie’s lips. The Queen’s reputation as an infinitely patient ruler was a lie. The woman had little tolerance for those who pushed her buttons, but instead of offending others, she played those around her in a game she’d mastered while in the cradle.

  Cellie made a quick bow in deference to their positions, preparing to leave. “Sulls and Gorshu will accompany you.”

  Cordie’s gaze narrowed as she pointed at Cellie. “I don’t need guards in my suite to watch me wash my ass.”

  Sliding her head gear under her elbow and pulling off her white gloves, Cellie answered over her shoulder. “They can help wash if you ask nicely. Otherwise eyes will be on you at all times, Your Highness.”

  “Bah!”

  Cellie snickered and hurried from the royal training room, where she spent several days a week honing the Queen’s skill with short swords, knives, and hand-to-hand combat. Cellie took her job as lead royal guard very seriously and nothing would happen to the woman who’d become a friend during her six years on the job if she could help it.

  “Senior Guard Manx, a moment.” Efan, one of the palace guards, hurried to her side.

  Cellie kept her pace, her rapid strides moving through the multiple corridors of the palace. “Yes, Efan?”

  “Commander Brom sent a message for you.”

  Shoving at the blonde spikes of her hair, Cellie shot a look at the guard she’d personally trained. “What’s the message, Efan?”

  The youth grinned, blue eyes alight. “It’s a private vid cube, Senior Guard.”

  Cellie sighed. Jax continued to try her patience. She held up her hand for the cube. Efan plopped it in her palm and waved as he broke off in another direction while Cellie continued toward her private quarters. Due to the nature of her position, Cellie’s rooms were nestled conveniently in the royal wing reserved for the Jessin family or close friends.

  No one got this far in the palace unless approved by Cellie and she vetted everyone with ruthless attention to detail.

  She nodded at the guards in the Jessin purple livery lined along the hall. There were a dozen men total whose simple job required that no one come past this point without proper authorization. As soon as the doors of her suite closed, Cellie dropped her stern pose. Heart racing, she shook the vid cube in her palms.

  An image of the Commander appeared instantly. Wearing his full military uniform of black jacket with braiding and skin tight pants in the same color, he stood with arms crossed behind his back, legs parted and his arrogant jaw tipped up.

  “Senior Guard Manx.” His deep voice sent delicious tingles down her spine. “I look forward to seeing you this evening.”

  She waited with bated breath for him to say more. Steely grey eyes stared back for a second longer and then the cube winked out.

  Son of a…

  Cellie tossed the cube into the incinerator, not bothering to reactivate it for a missing piece. Knowing Jax’s attention to detail and security risks, he would have set the cube for a one time viewing before the message auto-deleted.

  Throughout her shower she cursed the man and his need to prod her temper. Arousal rose in equal portions to her annoyance. Despite her bouncing emotions, Cellie smiled and washed quickly. Soapy water trickled down her front, bubbles catching on her nipples before trailing down her belly.

  Thinking of Jax, her hand followed the path, enjoying the silken feel of her skin beneath her fingertips. She touch
ed the wet curls between her thighs and slid her fingers further. The first brush against her sensitive folds caused her hips to jerk.

  Cellie gasped, the sensations so overwhelming stars flashed before her eyes. She braced one hand on the wall while she continued to stroke ever so slowly and focused on a pair of penetrating grey eyes that had the ability to destroy her thoughts. His broad chest with its cascade of muscles was perfect for balancing her weight when she rode him hard.

  Cellie’s nipples tightened, and she arched her back and deepened the strokes below. Jax’s full lips kissed with a gentleness at odds with his tough exterior. Sometimes she thought she could spend hours kissing the man. Her fingers slipped through her swollen folds, hips rocking as she slid deeper into the fantasy.

  His eyes would darken like a rare stormy night on Zephil. Every inch of her would tingle as his gaze traveled from the tips of her plump breasts, pass her leaking center and end at her straining thighs. Then he’d reach forward and grip her legs in his firm hold as he spread her wide for him.

  A broken cry slipped free. Jax’s hands. Cellie rubbed faster. No man had hands like his with the thick, blunt fingers and slight calluses on the pads from his love of tinkering with miniature model ships. Every raspy bump would feather over her skin.

  Gaze on her face, he’d slide his hands up her hips and pull her close. Her mid-section tightened as Cellie fought the need to come. She wanted to draw this out for maximum pleasure. It was the only way she’d make it until she saw him later.

  Leaning her weight on the wall, Cellie cupped her breast with her free hand, thinking of his big palms kneading her tender flesh. Her lower region grew wetter, and not from the water in the shower. Her hips bucked as she delved deeper into the growing spiral. As his hands smoothed over her skin, his lips would follow the same track licking, sucking and occasionally biting with sharp nips.

  She throbbed, tightening on her invasive fingers. Her own touch couldn’t mimic the fullness of Jax’s thick shaft pulsing and tunneling through her. Cellie lost her rhythm, breath coming in stuttering pants as she lowered her head, too far gone to stop if she wanted to.

  She yearned for the passionate touch of her long term lover. Between the chill of the shower wall and the heat of the water, Cellie undulated her hips, lost to the need riding her. Goosebumps pebbled her skin as she tweaked her nipple, sending shards of pleasure down her spine. The overhead flow from the shower soaked her hair, drops clinging to her lashes as she stroked faster and faster, her only thoughts of the release waiting for her.

  The persistent tug between her legs demanded relief. Her breathing grew shallow. She pierced her core with a single digit, unable to fight the hungry spasms in her warm channel. Every nerve tingling and abs taut, Cellie tossed her head on the wall and choked back her cries of ecstasy. Her body craved more and Cellie complied with the demand by adding another finger, thumb rubbing her clit at the same time.

  The explosion tore through her like a blasting storm. Shivers racked Cellie’s spine as she fell against the inner wall of the shower, chest heaving with every muffled moan. When she came down, Cellie slid to the floor on her knees and bowed her head. Only Jax could bring her to this level.

  ***

  Anticipation whetted Jax’s appetite. He listened to the Queen’s guests making meaningless conversation throughout the superb dinner. He listened to the Queen extol the virtues of the trip she planned to take as those at the table pretended to hang on her every word. And he listened as a very drunk prime minister made sexual advances to the Senior Guard sitting on the Queen’s left.

  Cellimina Manx. Lead guard for the Queen’s personal royal security force. The woman tied him in knots without trying. She sat three seats away from Jax, but he would swear he could smell her favorite scent from where he sat. One she wore on special occasions only. Cellie as she insisted everyone call her, smiled at Prime Minister Gaval. Her brown eyes twinkled as if she found the pompous fool funny.

  She wore her blonde hair short, the front smoothing upward in a flourish with sides tapered low. Far from mannish, the hairstyle drew the eye to Cellie’s delicate bone structure. She had the face of a waif and the body of a sex worker. Her looks were deceptive though. The woman stood only two inches shorter than his own six-two and was a master in several styles of hand to hand combat.

  “Are you done, Commander?”

  Jax tensed as a servant leaned over his shoulder and reached for his half-eaten bowl of soup. He waved it away and ignored the come hither glance as well as the press of her breasts on his back while she removed his dishware.

  From the other end of the table, Cellie stared at him, a crease forming between her light colored brows. Jax arched a brow in return, only to have her roll her eyes and return her attention to Gaval.

  Several painful hours later after dessert was served and consumed, the dinner party broke up. The Queen didn’t linger, rising gracefully from her seat and saying her farewells as she made her way from the dining room. Cellie and two guards in Jessin purple flanked her.

  Jax waited two minutes tops, then signaled the men with him. His security team from the Zanian IX rose to their feet instantly.

  “Keep your eyes open. We leave at first light,” he said.

  They accepted his direction without question as Jax left the massive dining room and followed the royal group down a separate corridor.

  Someone cornered the Queen half way down the hall, stopping the whole entourage from continuing. Cellie caught his eye the moment he approached. The other palace guards familiar with him stepped aside. Jax continued on, walking around the small gathering and taking the first hall on his left. He didn’t have long to wait.

  “Commander Brom.”

  Jax grabbed her lush form as soon as the seductive whisper reached his ear. “Cellie.”

  She dug her hands into his hair and yanked his face close. He took the hint and kissed the full lips turned up toward him. Her mouth parted on a moan and Jax tightened his hold around her waist, pulling her body flush to his.

  “I don’t have long,” she mumbled in between kisses.

  Jax spun them, caging her against the wall, and nipped her bottom lip. His hands couldn’t stop moving over her, squeezing when he reached her waist. “Tonight.”

  “It has to be late. Cordie hasn’t finished packing.”

  Jax closed his eyes on a groan. The Queen had a reputation for being notoriously late any time she had to leave planet side. “I need you, Cellie.”

  Her hands clawed at his scalp, the bursts of pain threatening to make him bust the flap on his formal uniform pants. “I need you too.”

  His tongue thrust between her lips, caressed hers, and she sucked the tip. Pleasure exploded. Kissing Cellie was akin to manning his battle cruiser during mock fire fights. Every touch of her mouth sent flashes up his spine and zings down his shaft. He rocked against her slowly, his hips cradling hers as he found a rhythm that left her moaning.

  Stars! The sound increased his need and Jax fought the urge to take her here and now. Not something she would like, and he’d probably receive the biggest reprimand ever in his file if caught. He leaned back, ensnared by the sight of her moist lips, puffy from his attention. Her glazed brown eyes stared back.

  “Jax,” she whispered, fingers feathering over his neck.

  He shivered and kissed her again unable to resist. She tasted like a dream. Sweet and full of temptation. His hands lowered and cupped her ass in his palms. Without breaking the kiss, Jax lifted her, improving the angle as he nestled perfectly between her firm thighs. He sucked on her bottom lip, nipping gently and licking along the seam.

  Cellie whimpered, hips canting beneath the onslaught. Jax’s swollen length throbbed and the desire to consume every bit of her sweet taste overwhelmed him.

  Two fingers tapped his shoulder. Panic crashed into him and Jax kissed a path across her cheek and down her arched neck. He didn’t want to let her go. Another tap and he forced himself to ease his hold. H
is lips reluctantly left hers.

  “I have to go,” she murmured, against his neck.

  “Hurry, Cellie. Tonight.” Jax eased her down to her feet.

  She reached down and stroked his thick erection, giving it a final squeeze before smirking and darting around the corner. Jax leaned his head back against the wall, hoping the hall would be clear when he left. Otherwise his tented pants would be on full display as he hobbled back to his room.

  Chapter 2

  The security alert on the door chimed seconds before it opened and closed.

  “Finally,” Jax growled from the bed.

  Standing in the doorway, framed by the light he’d left on in the outer room, Cellie laughed. “I do have a job you know. Things to do.”

  She crossed the room and started removing her palace uniform. Jax stroked his flexing shaft, not hiding his smirk when her gaze drifted to his lap. His hand worked beneath the sheet but no way could she miss the rise in the cloth. “I have a job for you right here.”

  Jax’s crass words caused a snicker to escape as Cellie joined him in the middle of the bed. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  A slow smile curled his full lips, filling Cellie’s heart. She loved the surly Commander, though she’d never share the sentiment aloud. That wasn’t how this thing worked between them.

  His arm snagged around her waist as soon as she reached him and tumbled her backwards onto the silky sheets as he rolled over her.

  “I’ve missed you,” Jax whispered against her throat, all humor faded from his voice.

  Cellie threaded her hand through his dark hair, strands curling about her fingers. “I missed you too, Commander Brom.”

  He sucked the sensitive spot at the base of her neck before his head lifted. “Are we using titles tonight, Senior Guard Manx?”