“And Shaidan . . . He has my genetic material because the sample Chy’qui took from you . . . it had my scent marker in it!” Her sobs began to increase again.
“Hush, I believe you,” he said automatically, still trying to take in what she’d said, and the extent to which she, too, had been used. “I believe you now, Zayshul.”
She lifted her head to look up at him. “You do?” She blinked owlishly through reddened eyes at him before pulling an arm free to rub it across her face. “Why this time?”
“Because I’d have to be totally mind dead to not feel your distress,” he said, running his thumb across her cheek to remove the last of her tears. “I still have a little mental sensitivity left.”
“When I saw you with Zhalmo, being gentle with her . . .” Tears welled up again, threatening to spill over her cheeks. “And I heard the others talking about you sitting with her nearly every night in the rec . . .”
“Jealous?” he asked in surprise, aware that she had indeed been.
“No! Yes . . .” she admitted, seeing the look on his face.
“I’ve treated you badly,” he said, forcing himself to let her go and move away from her. “I should have remembered I owe you my life several times over for what you did for me on, and after, the Kz’adul. My only defense is that every time I’m near you, your scent robs me of all reason. All I’m left with is an animal need to pair with you.”
“I know. It happens to me, too. Once you start responding to me, I start responding to you, then nothing else matters,” she said, her voice low. “It isn’t supposed to be like that! It’s supposed to just enhance our attraction for each other, nothing more.” She began to shiver, wrapping her arms across her chest to try and keep warm.
“You’re cold. I’ll get you a robe,” he said, leaving her to go into the bathing room for his toweling one.
Putting it around her shoulders, he folded her in it, then moved away again before her scent could affect him too much. “So there’s no way to turn it off?”
“None. It could spontaneously stop by itself, in time,” she said, clutching the robe gratefully. “I can’t even study it. We haven’t got equipment sensitive enough even on K’oish’ik to isolate whatever it is that causes this addiction from my scent.”
“Please, sit down,” he said, gesturing awkwardly to one of the easy chairs beside him. “I forget my manners.” Still keeping a reasonable distance between them, he sat down on the edge of the sofa, leaning his arms on his knees.
“This is the first rational conversation we’ve had for some time,” she said. “We need to come to some kind of truce, Kusac. You have to try to stop hating me now you know the truth.”
He looked down at his hands. “It isn’t going to be easy,” he said. “You have no idea how your marker has affected my life, Zayshul. Your Emperor contacted my people, telling us that Kezule had left your world and asked us to let him know if we had any word of his whereabouts. Then Kezule’s message was intercepted and read by the Brotherhood. I was called in and told to keep the rendezvous and find out why a known enemy of mine wanted to meet me, and what it was he had that I would want.” He looked up at her again. “You can imagine how much of a shock it was for me to be given your message, complete with your and Shaidan’s scents on it, in public. Obviously I couldn’t tell anyone.”
“Why didn’t you tell them about our night on the ship? You could have legitimately said you’d been raped.”
He looked away again. “Because you’d helped me—and I had enjoyed it,” he admitted eventually. “After what I’d been through with J’koshuk, I needed some physical contact that didn’t bring pain. It—you—gave me the strength I needed to get through the exchange of hostages the next day.”
“We have to cope with our need for each other, Kusac,” she said after a small silence. “Deal with it so it doesn’t get out of hand the way it has done so far.”
“I know. How long can we keep it from Kezule?”
She shrugged. “He has his other females. Marriage to him is only for breeding; he told me so. He doesn’t see me as belonging to him. He calls you my Sholan, you know. Leave that worry to me, I can handle him.”
“I’d prefer him not to know. He has enough leverage over me already.”
“I can understand that.”
The door chime rang, making them both jump. He began to swear. “It’s Dzaou,” he said. “He’s checking to make sure I’m here and not with Zhalmo.”
“Why should he do that?” she asked, obviously confused and worried.
“It’s a long story,” he muttered, getting up. “The bathing room’s through there. Lock yourself in—both doors—while I deal with him.”
When she’d hidden herself, he quickly stripped off his robe and flung it over the back of the chair she’d been using, and headed for the door, remembering to shut off the air conditioner before opening it.
“What is it, Dzaou?” he asked, standing so that the other, seemingly inadvertently, had a good view of his empty lounge. “I was about to shower.”
“My punishment detail finished today, Captain. I just wanted to know what your orders were for me for tomorrow,” Dzaou said, sketching a brief salute.
“And you couldn’t have asked me that in the rec?” He raised an eye ridge. “You report to Banner first thing with the others. He’ll give you your orders.”
“Yes, Captain.” The older male turned away then stopped. “Are we information gathering now? I noticed you were getting close to one of Kezule’s daughters.”
“We’re here for another two to three months, Dzaou. I want you to do what the rest of us are doing—socialize! In Vartra’s name, try and lose some of your damned prejudices. And that’s an order!”
“You can’t . . .”
“I just have,” he snarled, hitting the door close control and locking it. He leaned against it, shaking with anger and reaction. He was getting to the point where it was going to cause him less grief to mentally adjust the damned male!
His blood instantly ran cold at the thought. To do that would be to break one of the main tenets of the Telepath Guild. Only a properly appointed Court Telepath could do that as the result of a judicial sentence. For him to do it was a criminal offense, punishable by his own mental readjustment, or worse, the destruction of his Talent by the Telepath Guild. Only he was no longer in that Guild, he was of the En’Shalla Brotherhood, answerable only to Father Lijou and Vartra Himself—and he’d already adjusted the memories of both Dzaou and Banner.
He pushed the thought away and moved to the bathing room door as Zayshul opened it. “He’s gone,” he said, turning back to the lounge and walking over to pick up his robe again.
“Kusac, wait,” she said, catching hold of his arm. “We’re alone here now . . .”
I still don’t want this, he thought, briefly closing his eyes as her scent began to reach his nostrils. With a sense of inevitability, he left his robe where it was and turned to face her.
“You won’t be missed?” he asked.
“They don’t watch me like they used to, before you saved Kezule’s life.”
“I know what your scent does to me, but how does mine affect you?” he asked abruptly, needing to know.
She reached out and laid her hand against his chest, gently running it across the muscles almost hidden by the slightly longer pelt that grew there.
“You don’t realize how beautiful you appear to us, do you? We’ve nothing on our world that resembles you at all,” she murmured, her eyes glinting in the light from the ceiling. “You give off the combination of your scent and mine laced together,” she said. “That’s what your scent is now. It’s in your pelt, on your hair—my body absorbs it when we touch.”
His body shivered in response to her touch and embarrassed, she lowered her hand and her gaze. “I taste it when you kiss me.”
Taking a deep breath, he moved closer and took her by the arm. Better to get it over with, he thought as the now familiar light
-headedness hit him and he felt his pulse starting to rise.
“We might as well be civilized about this,” he said, drawing her toward the door to his bedroom. “Vartra knows, I haven’t been so far.”
“It’s all right,” she said. “I understand.”
Turning out the lounge light behind him, he adjusted the bedroom’s lighting to low. She handed him the toweling robe, which he threw toward a chest at the other side of the room. When he turned back, she was already beginning to unfasten her coveralls.
“Let me,” he said, pulling her into his arms and lowering his head to lick her cheek. Her scent wasn’t affecting him as quickly this time, and he needed the release from responsibility that touching and licking her body would give him.
“Kusac,” she said. When he continued to lick her, she took hold of his head and pulled him away so he had to look at her.
He gave a small rumble of annoyance. “What?” Already his eyes were losing focus and he could hear the blood beginning to pound in his head. Automatically his hands flexed on her shoulders, claws pricking through her clothing. He stopped with an effort. “What is it?”
“Please, don’t punish either of us. We’re both victims. Stop fighting the scent marker.”
“I’m not,” he said.
“You’re fighting it with anger, I can feel it. Let go this time, don’t try to stay in control,” she said.
He growled, low and deep. “You ask a lot.”
“I know. I’m asking you to trust me,” she said, stroking his cheek. “Let the marker work the way it’s supposed to work.”
He turned his head, licking the inside of her wrist, over the pulse spot. “Just let go. Don’t stop the drug,” he repeated.
She nodded, releasing him.
“Yes,” he said, reaching for her mouth with his. He kept his eyes open as he caught at her bottom lip gently with his teeth. Her tongue flicked out, its forked tip touching him. He released her quickly. Too soon for that, he shouldn’t have watched. He shuddered, shutting his eyes.
He felt her mouth close on his neck, then her tongue was forcing his pelt aside till the forked tips touched the flesh beneath. Gently her teeth began to nip him as she roamed across his throat.
With an effort, he opened his eyes again, focusing on continuing to unfasten her coverall, but his hands were unsteady now as the urgency to have her increased. His fingers touched hers as she helped him and moments later, he was sliding her clothing off.
He pulled her into an embrace, kissing her again, making sure to close his eyes this time. When her tongue touched his lips, hesitantly, he let her enter his mouth for the first time. Her tongue felt strange, and she tasted different, sweeter than before. He trapped her briefly against the roof of his mouth so he could taste her fully. Remembering what she’d said, he surrendered himself to the sensations as fire coursed through him, igniting all his senses. He grasped her hand, pressing it against his belly, then down over the smoothness of his groin.
“Hold me here,” he whispered as his body began to spasm in pleasure. He rested his head on her shoulder, moaning gently, his breathing becoming more rapid.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” The word was drawn out, almost a gasp. “Just wait.” He clutched her close as suddenly, his genitals descended into her waiting hand. His breath came out in an almost explosive gasp as he lifted his head.
“So that’s . . .”
“Gently,” he hissed, wincing slightly as her fingers began to explore. Her touch became lighter, more sure, and he began to purr. “You’ve no idea how good it feels when that happens,” he murmured, licking her neck with long sweeps of his tongue while his hands began to stroke their way down her back and hips.
Beneath his hands, he could feel her skin flushing with heat, and her scent changing as she became more aroused. When her hand encircled him and she began to slide it up his length, he had to stop her.
“No more,” he said, grasping her hand and removing it. Backing off, he drew her with him until they tumbled onto his bed. When he reached for her, she caught his hands in hers and sat up.
“Not tonight,” she said, moving till she knelt astride his thighs. “Tonight you’re mine.”
Letting one hand go, she began pushing her fingers through his pelt until she reached his collarbone, then she circled the base of his neck, just under his torc, pressing her claws against his flesh.
A sudden chill of fear rushed through him but when he reached for her hand, it was gone and she was leaning over him, her tongue and teeth flicking and nipping at his ear. Her scent surrounded him now, driving thoughts of anything but the sensations she was generating from his mind. She moved lower, working her way under his jaw then along his shoulder.
He reached for her head, cupping the back of it, encouraging her as his breath began to come in shorter and shorter gasps.
Her nips, which had been gentle, became sometimes sharp and almost painful. It made him tense and he grasped her by the waist, trying to free his other hand but he found she’d pinned it effectively to the bed.
“Trust me,” she said, lifting her head as her fingers and claws raked their way carefully down his side and hip, making him shudder with pleasure. She moved lower, her teeth finding one nipple while her hand, on its way up his chest, found the other.
He moaned gently, wondering how she knew they were so sensitive.
“I can read,” she said, her tone amused. “I know they must be sensitive because your females use them to suckle their young.”
She was resting on the tip of his erection now, pressing it against his belly; her moist warmth against him almost unbearable. He could almost feel the marker being absorbed by his naked skin.
Arching his hips up, he tried to enter her, gasping and collapsing back on the bed when she nipped him hard.
“Not yet,” she whispered. “I’ll tell you when.”
“Enough teasing,” he said, his voice ragged. “I want you now.” He tried to break her grip on his hand but she laced her fingers between his, holding him down even more firmly.
She slid lower, the sensation so intense he felt himself beginning to swell again as waves of pleasure and tension rippled through his whole body, making him shudder violently.
“What are you doing?” he gasped as her hand again raked its way down his side and across his hip.
“Showing you how the marker enhances pleasure for males,” she said, sliding lower still before sitting up. Her claws now began to slowly circle his belly, moving to the sides of his groin then across his thighs.
He closed his eyes, relaxing under her gentle touch. Then he felt the flick of her tongue on his erection. Images of her many tiny sharp teeth came instantly to his mind and, eyes flying open, he tried to sit up.
“Not that,” he said, reaching with his free hand to stop her.
He found himself instantly pushed back, her hand pressed against his diaphragm to keep him there. He tried again to rise but the pressure she was exerting made it too painful.
“Vartra’s bones!” he hissed, watching and feeling her teeth gently take hold of him. He shut his eyes, unable to watch. “Be careful!”
She teased him, taking him almost to the point of orgasm before stopping. Every breath he took now was heavy with their combined pheromone-laden scents. That, coupled with what she’d been doing to him, had driven him to an almost feral state of desire.
His hand was freed as she matched her body to his and lifted her face up to him. He grasped her head, kissing her furiously, tasting himself as well as her on her lips.
“Now,” she murmured, pushing herself down till he was almost inside her.
Lifting her up, he arched his hips to meet her, pulling her down onto him, burying himself deep within her with a low, drawn out moan. He stayed like that for a moment, feeling his whole body throbbing with desire, then he pulled her down against his chest and tumbled them over so he was poised above her.
Shuddering, he began to
withdraw from her, thrusting back deep inside her at the last moment, making her cry out in pleasure, a cry she quickly muffled by sinking her teeth into his shoulder.
A rhythm established, wave after wave of pleasure, exactly matching hers, coursed through him until he thought he could take no more. Their bodies climaxed together, holding them tight in a pulsating, swirling sea of sensations. At the height of it, he felt her mind explode inside his, flooding him with erotic imagery of his body penetrating hers; against his neck, the torc vibrated a frantic, painful warning. Shaking his head in real distress, with his final thrust, he pushed her mind aside. Spent, he collapsed against her, slamming up all his mental barriers as he tried to calm his ragged breathing and make sure his mind was still his own.
He felt her moving beneath him, and relieved he hadn’t knocked her out with his mind, he shifted his position slightly to make sure his weight wasn’t on her.
It was several minutes before he realized she was playing with his hair. His limbs felt heavy and lethargic, but even despite the shock of the mental contact, he was more relaxed than he remembered being for many months.
“That’s how the scent marker is used,” she said.
“It’s effective,” he murmured. “And intense.”
“Better?”
“Better,” he agreed, reaching out to touch her cheek gently. “I can see why those of you who could scent mark became dominant. Definitely a desirable trait as far as males are concerned.”
“At least you weren’t angry this time,” she said.
Carefully, he withdrew from her and moved over, wincing as he flexed his bitten shoulder. “You were far too skillful to allow me to think of anything but what you were doing,” he said. “It was unexpected.”
“I was trying to remove the marker the other two times,” she said, sitting up. “I can’t use it and try to switch it off at the same time. We had the comfort and the security for me to do that tonight, Kusac, we won’t always have. I thought you should know the more pleasant side of it at least once.”
Between Darkness and Light Page 39
