Dark Cure

by Cynthia Sax

  That assurance came at a cost to her barbarian. He was giving up his home, his males, his role, for her. Guilt burrowed deeper inside her.

  She would stay on Chamele 2 for as long as emotionally possible.

  Seeing patients she couldn’t adequately heal didn’t appeal to her. She wouldn’t take on that frustrating task.

  But she could train some of the medics on his home planet, decrease the mortality rate. She did have experience on battlefields, having no access to supplies and large equipment. That knowledge could be valuable to them.

  Her warrior strode through the ship with her. The vessel appeared to be top of the line, modern and immaculately clean. The walls were covered with viewscreens. Monitoring devices tracked their progress.

  That didn’t surprise her. Warriors tended to spend all of their resources on war and an advanced ship would make a difference in battle. It would be an investment they would justify making.

  Oghul entered a private chamber. Blades and guns were displayed on the walls. More weapons were set on horizontal supports. The air smelled of him.

  The doors closed behind them. Quiet encased them.

  Her male’s form emerged from nothingness. He was gloriously, unashamedly naked, his ass cheeks as splendidly tight as she’d remembered.

  “This will be our space for the next sixty-two planet rotations.” He cupped one of his palms behind her skull and gently laid her on a huge sleeping support.

  She squirmed, the position uncomfortable. Her hands were pinned under her.

  “Your possessions are in the cargo hold.” He lifted her, pressing her face against his bare chest, and untied her. “You can arrange them however you wish.”

  The first thing she wished to do was tell him what she thought of his methods. She reached for the gag, eager to speak.

  He grabbed her hands, stretched her arms above her head. “I’m not releasing you until we’re in deep space.” He tied her wrists to the sleeping support.

  “Let me go,” she yelled, her words indecipherable through the leather.

  He captured one of her booted feet. She kicked him with the other. He avoided her attack, tied first her left and then her right foot to the bottom of the sleeping support.

  She twisted, was unable to move far. Cursing him through the gag was as ineffective. She glowered at him.

  Her barbarian stepped back and gazed at her, his expression smug. “You’re wearing too many garments.” He extended his claws.

  She sucked in her breath and became still. Her white jacket was more than a garment. It represented her place in her universe. She didn’t want it to be damaged.

  He nudged the garment aside. She exhaled, relaxing.

  His eyes softened. “Your jacket is a part of you, gerel.” He raked his deadly tips over her flight suit, shredding the fabric. “I would never hurt any part of you.”

  His claws traveled along her inner thighs and she trembled, her need for him escalated, buoyed by his respect for her role and the danger in his actions.

  He stripped the flight suit from her body, leaving her in her hand coverings, her white jacket, her black boots. The rest of her form—her breasts, her pussy, her legs—was exposed, open to his perusal.

  Her barbarian looked at her, his dark eyes gleaming. “You’re beautiful and strong and mine, all mine.”

  He pushed his hips forward. His cock was hard, the sight drying her mouth.

  “You’re angry with me right now and you have a right to feel that way.” He positioned himself between her spread legs. “I behaved like a brute.” His tone told her he didn’t regret his actions. “But I plan to make amends for what I’ve done.” He nuzzled against her rounded stomach, his mouth hot against her skin. “By the end of the trip, I’ll earn your forgiveness.”

  She shifted her ass. By the end of the trip, she’d be more addicted to his touch than she already was. She might not want to return to Carinae E.

  Her warrior dragged his lips over her mons, and she quivered, her muscles flexing tight with anticipation. He avoided her pussy, swept his mouth along one of her inner thighs and then the other, teasing that sensitive flesh.

  She moaned into the gag and hitched her hips upward. He rested his claws on her breasts, the slight pressure against her curves warning her not to move.

  She was restrained, under his complete control, couldn’t do anything but accept his adoration. He swirled his tongue along her skin, his gaze meeting hers.

  His eyes gleamed. He knew what he was doing to her, was in no rush to bring her to release, clearly planned to torment her until she screamed.

  It would be a silent scream, and for that, she was grateful. His males must be on board the ship with them. They wouldn’t hear her, not with the leather between her teeth.

  Only her warrior would know when she capitulated to him.

  That wouldn’t happen immediately. She would show him how strong she was, make him labor for her absolution.

  He bent his head and inhaled deeply. “You smell delicious, gerel.”

  Her musk hung heavily in the air, her pussy wet and her nipples taut. An ache built within her. She tried to squeeze her thighs together and couldn’t.

  Her male finally targeted the spot she desired, mouthing over her. She lifted into his lips, needing more, the contact divine but not enough.

  He slid his tongue between her soft folds, navigating, exploring. Sensation rippled along her form. He curled his claws around her thighs, holding her in place, and ate her out with vigor, plunging into her tight entrance, pressing deeper and deeper into her.

  Oh, fuck. She tilted her head back, clinging with all her might to her control. Her savage male was skilled with his tongue, spearing into her, rubbing along her inner walls, drinking her in.

  A growl rose from his throat, an exciting rumble of enjoyment, felt to her core. She grasped her restraints, all of her vibrating to his tune.

  Her world narrowed to him. He dominated her thoughts as he mastered her body. In this moment, she would give up everything for him—her white jacket, her role as a medic, her very soul.

  Yet he would never ask her to do that. She trusted him to keep her safe from her own impulses, her own desires.

  Her barbarian valued her, cared for her. With a few simple words and the touch of his big hands, he had eased her guilt, given her peace.

  She might not agree with his tyrannical behavior this planet rotation but she never doubted he had her best interests in his heart. He was an honorable male, a good being.

  And stars, he knew how to work a pussy. He stroked in and out, in and out of her, his rhythm fast and hard. Her body responded. Her juices speckled his cheeks, glistened on his lips. Need coiled around her.

  She dangled on the edge of release, pleaded with her eyes for a nudge, for a tinge of pain to push her into the abyss. His lips curled upward. He tormented her for moments more, stripping her restraint as he’d earlier stripped her garments, ruthlessly effective.

  As he ravished her, he lifted his claws, one by one, freeing her thighs from his grip. He was planning something but she was too far gone to speculate on what that something was.

  He then lowered one sharp tip over her clit. She stiffened. He wouldn’t. That bundle of nerves was too delicate, too sensitive for his claws. It would require an almost impossible level of control. He wouldn’t risk hurting her, wouldn’t—

  He tapped the tip against her clit. The prick of that natural weapon snapped her into two, propelling her into the darkness.

  She screamed into the gag, the pleasure eclipsing the pain. The chamber spun around her. She gyrated in the air as he sucked on her pussy hole, the tug of his lips extending her bliss.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. She pulled on her restraints, fighting to be free, the ecstasy too acute, too much. He licked her, laved her with the flat of his tongue.

  Her bliss eased. She sagged against the sleeping support, drained, sated.

  Oghul lifted his head and met her gaze. “Have I ear
ned your forgiveness, gerel?”

  What had he done wrong? She couldn’t remember, her brain blank.

  “Or should I work harder?” He retracted his claws and straightened.

  A bead of pre-cum had formed on his cockhead. If she could lick her lips, she would have done that. He tasted good. Past fucks had taught her that.

  “That look says you require more convincing.” He wrapped one of his hands around his base, pumped himself once, twice, three times.

  The desire she’d believed had been doused revived, building inside her.

  Her barbarian was responsible for her needy condition. He could fuck her five times a planet rotation and she’d want more.

  That was how addictive he was, how wonderfully he fit her.

  “Seeing you like this, wearing your white jacket and nothing more, your ankles and wrists bound, your sexy voice silenced, makes my balls ache.” He swept his tip over her, wetting his flesh. “Only you, my gerel, could appear powerful restrained and gagged. You’re fierce and I’m proud you’re mine.”

  She was proud to be his. No other male valued her like he did, saw her like he did. She was his in all ways.

  He pushed into her pussy, filling her as only he could, stretching her to her limits. She couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything other than take his big cock.

  The slow slide continued until the ridge of flesh around his base hit her. He gripped her hips, met her gaze. “Abducting you was necessary. If I had given you a choice, you would have put your role above your lifespan. You would have chosen to speak to the brothers, and once you had expressed that decision, I would have had to respect it…because I respect you.”

  She hesitated for a moment before nodding.

  He was right. She would have made that decision. Someone had to tell the brothers about Egor’s death. The Palavian was her patient. She would have considered relaying the news to be part of her role.

  The brothers wouldn’t have reacted well to the death. They would have tried to end her lifespan. Her warrior would have tried to defend her.

  She would have put him in danger.

  “I couldn’t risk you.” His voice cracked. There was a pause as he looked away from her. “You are my gerel, the light to my darkness, the heart in my chest, my reason for being. I would rather you hate me forever than allow anyone to harm one hair on your head.”

  Fuck. She blinked back tears. How could she hold onto her anger while hearing words like that?

  “You will forgive me…in time.” He drew back to his tip, thrust forward, drew back to his tip, thrust forward, shaking her form with the savagery of his fucking.

  The damn male didn’t know she’d already forgiven him. She understood his reasoning, no longer viewed his actions as a means of control. He’d abducted her because he cared for her. Maybe he even loved her.

  As she loved him. She gazed up at her barbarian, willing him to see her emotions. His eyes blazed. His grip on her hips tightened.

  He rode her like a being possessed. The sleeping support slammed against the wall again and again. The restraints creaked a protest. Their bodies smacked together, heating at the points of contact.

  Sweat streamed between her breasts and along her spine, soaking her jacket. Oghul’s fit physique also sparkled with moisture, the scars on his face and chest growing more vivid against his golden skin. His biceps bulged and his long black hair framed him, a covering cloth of softness she couldn’t yet touch.

  She lifted her hips, trying to fuck him as he fucked her, her movements severely restricted. The restraints rubbed against her boot-clad ankles, bit into her unprotected wrists. That pain, combined with the ache in her legs and arms, fed the passion inside her.

  It was a race to finish, the starkness of her warrior’s countenance relaying how close he was. He deserved to come first, had already satisfied her once, had put her needs before hers again and again.

  She could think of no better way to show her love. Her gaze met his and his eyes widened, his cock swelling inside her.

  “Gerel.” His voice was deeper than open space, edged with warning.

  “I love you.” She told him that freely, knowing he couldn’t hear her through the gag, and she clenched around his shaft.

  He howled, drove into her, and exploded, his cum blasting her inner walls, propelling her into fulfillment. She bit down on leather, shaking, flying for the second time that shift.

  He came and came and came, filling her with his essence, and she writhed, the chamber darkening, sound rushing in her ears. The ridge around his base expanded until they were locked in place.

  He shuddered and toppled, landing on top of her. Her breath whooshed out of her body. The restraints held.

  They stayed like that for six or seven heartbeats, both of them catching their breath. Gisella savored the feel of her barbarian’s hard form layered over her curves. She was strong enough to absorb his weight.

  “I miss your voice.” He extended his claws and snapped the strap holding the gag in place. “I want to hear you speak even if you’re angry with me.”

  “I’m no longer angry with you.” She admitted that truth. “You made the right decision. I would have wanted to speak with the brothers and that could have gotten all of us killed.”

  He lifted his head, bracing himself upward, looked at her for a long moment. “Then you forgive me?”

  “I forgive you.” She paused. “But make a decision like that for me again and you’ll know how Yesun felt when I zapped him.”

  Oghul chuckled. “That’s my fierce gerel.”

  She smiled. Only her fearless warrior would be amused by that threat.

  Chapter Fourteen

  They didn’t leave their chambers the first planet rotation. Beverage and nourishment bars were stored in the space. Oghul trusted his males to navigate the ship. They would inform him if there were any issues.

  He devoted himself to pleasing his gerel. They bonded numerous times, talked, solidified their connection.

  And they relaxed, which was a unique state for both of them. She wore her hair loose, those long gold-streaked tendrils rippling down her back, and she touched him without hesitation. He lowered his guard, knowing she was protected, safe. There was little possibility of attack.

  That holiday from reality didn’t last. He was the captain of the ship, the leader of his males. It was a responsibility he took seriously.

  The following planet rotation, he retrieved one of Gisella’s flight suits from the cargo bay. She dressed, gathered her hair into a tight knot at her nape, once again becoming the epitome of strength, of control.

  He handed her the white jacket. It had been cleaned. The gun, handheld, and mini medic pack had been returned to its pockets.

  She wrinkled her nose as she donned it. “Some beings would say I’m not a medic now. I don’t have any patients.”

  “Those beings don’t understand what a medic is.” He held out one of her white hand coverings. “It isn’t a role you pull on or off like your jacket. It’s a part of you.”

  “You understand that.” She slipped her long, slim fingers into the leather. “Because being a warrior is the same way.”

  He stroked his scarred fingertips over the hand covering, savoring the softness of it, and pressed the mechanism hidden in the wrist. The fit tightened.

  “We are always on duty.” His voice was gruff. He would safeguard her role as he safeguarded her. She was his.

  He assisted her with the second hand covering, the process as stimulating for him as a kiss. Her fingers were beautiful, perfect, powerful. They healed others, gave him the most exquisite pleasure.

  He swept the tips of her hand coverings over his lips, breathing in their scent. They smelled like her.

  “You like the hand coverings.” Her eyelids partially lowered.

  “I love them.” He gripped her hands. “Too much.” He wanted her again. “We have to leave our chamber now, before I lose control.”

  Her eyes glowed. �
�I like it when you lose control.”

  Zondoo. She would tempt a rock.

  He led her into the corridor. The space was clear, the floor spotless. He was as proud of his ship as he was of his home planet and he wanted her to like both.

  “These are the males’ chambers.” They passed a few closed doors.

  The chambers were shared and were utilized solely for sleeping, cleansing, and the storage of the males’ few possessions. That mostly consisted of favorite weapons.

  “This is the nourishment consummation chamber.” When it was possible, the males ate together.

  He gazed at Yesun. Some of the warriors ate all of the time.

  “Second.” The youth stood, jamming an entire nourishment bar into his mouth. “Lead Medic.” His greeting was mumbled. “Are you hungry?” He reached into a storage container.

  “We’re fine.” Gisella answered for the two of them. “We ate.”

  “I ate also.” Yesun grinned. “These bars don’t fill me.” He extracted another one from the container. “My mother fabricates nourishment that will stay with you for planet rotations. My third eldest sister wants to meet you.” He changed topics without pausing. “I told her you zapped me. She’s the second best warrior in the family.”

  “Yesun believes he’s the best warrior in his family.” Oghul explained to his bemused gerel.

  “I am the best warrior in my family.” The youth puffed out his chest. “I don’t say that in front of her because that would hurt her feelings.”

  “She would also kick his ass,” Oghul murmured. He’d fought with Yesun’s sister during the succession wars. She was extremely skilled, had more experience than her younger brother.

  “Does she want to kick my ass?” Gisella slid her free hands into her pockets.

  Was she reaching for her gun? Oghul stepped closer to her.

  “She said she wanted to congratulate you.” Yesun tilted his head to the side. “But she likely wants to kick your ass also. She wants to kick everyone’s ass.”

  “Warriors are all the same.” Oghul’s gerel said that under her breath. “Warn her if she tries to kick my ass, she’ll find out firsthand how painful being zapped is.”