by Morgan Rae
I press a small kiss to the top of her head and squeeze her shoulder before I make my way upstairs. I wind around the corner before I find my son’s room. The walls are sky blue and it is far too clean and tidy for the living space of a young boy.
“Are you ready to see it?” Ben asks. He pops out of the bathroom wearing sleep-clothes covered with images of small insects.
“Have you brushed your teeth?” I ask him.
He nods vehemently.
“Very well. Show me your project.”
Ben jumps on the bed and tucks his knees underneath him. His bedspread is covered in stars. I am beginning to sense a pattern. He reaches up to show me a model of large, painted foam balls hanging from the ceiling by strings. “Here,” he says. “I did it to scale. It’s all of the planets in our solar system. Look.” He points to a blue one. “This is Earth. See?” He lifts the small blue globe and points excitedly to a red dot in the center. “That’s us. And over here is Mars, Jupiter…Saturn was hard to make, the rings kept falling off and mom had to help me pin them back on. Do you know they’re made mostly of ice?”
Words fly from his tongue as he talks about the stars and planets. I have never seen a boy so animated. I step closer to admire the model that he is so proud of and turn one of the foam balls in my hand. The whole system spins with it. “You know a lot about space,” I say.
When I turn my attention back to him, Ben is staring at me. There is a curiosity burning in his eyes. “You are not from here, are you?” he asks.
I cannot hide the truth from him. I shake my head and sit down on the edge of his bed so that I can look him in the eyes. “No,” I tell him. “I am not from here. I am from the stars.”
“Where?” He grips the model of his universe again and pushes it towards me. In his other hand, he reaches to his bedside table, lifts a red pen, and holds it out to me. “Put an X on it. Like I did on Earth.”
The corner of my mouth pulls inward. I turn the foam balls in my hand thoughtfully, but none of these are my home. “Not here,” I say. I stand up instead and step over to the wall. I use the pen to draw a small X on the wall above his wooden table. “I am from a different world,” I tell him. “A different universe. And I have come a very long way to meet you.”
He looks contemplative again. He wears expressions that are far too old for a child. The look on his face would be more fitting to a Seer or an old wise man. Once he has reached a decision, he unfurls his legs from underneath him, drops from his bed, and steps over to a shelf lined with books. His small fingers bend the spines until he finds the right one and he tugs it out of the cramped shelf before he climbs back into bed and offers the book to me.
“You’re him, aren’t you?” he asks as he pushes the book in my hands. “The man from mom’s stories?”
My forehead scrunches. I take the book from him and begin to turn the page. I do not understand the markings on the page, but I recognize the pictures. I see lush jungles, crisp river streams, and mountain tops stabbing the sky in the distance. I feel a pang of loss. I am very far away from it now. I am very far from my tribe.
“Naruda,” I murmur. “This is my home planet.”
I turn the page. I see a man with long hair and far away eyes. The likeness is uncanny. A smile creases my lips. “After all this time,” I murmur. “I am in your dreams as you are in mine.”
When my eyes lift from the page, I see my son staring at me slack jawed. It is as though the very walls have opened up and begin to talk to him. He must know, he must feel it in his draw to the stars. He must have known all along: he is my son. Confirmation, however, is different. Wondering is one thing, knowing is quite another.
He deserves the truth. I gently put the book down then and crouch in front of him. “You are not from this Earth, Ben.” I tell him. “Not all of you. You come from a strong, proud race of warriors. Your father is a chieftain and your mother is a Goddess. Do you know what that means?”
He shakes his head. He is quiet now and drinks in my every word.
“It means that you are strong. You can survive anything. Our kind, the Kurah, we led a hard life. But our skin is harder so that we can take the stones that life throws at us. You are very, very strong, my son. It is our responsibility to use this strength to protect those who cannot protect themselves. Do you understand?”
He stares at me. He has his mother’s eyes. They are large and full of uncertainty. “It don’t feel strong all the time,” he admits.
I press my lips in a thin line and lay my hand on my shoulder. His bones are so small. “Like when?”
He thinks. “Like when mom is sad or tired and I can’t help her.”
Ah. I understand. I nod my head. “You make your mother very happy. Listen to me. There is a whole world of people who care about you. My tribe would love you very much if they knew you.”
His eyes never leave my face but I cannot read his expression. He must be confused. I cup the back of his head and rest my forehead against his briefly. “Get some rest,” I tell him when I pull back. “You have had a long day.”
“Mom does that,” he informs me as he climbs into bed and tucks his bare feet under the blankets.
“Does she?”
He nods in confirmation. I feel a small swell of pride in my chest. At least, some of the Kurah traditions live on with my son, even if he does not know where they come from.
He is so curious, he wants to know about where he came from, and I have nothing to give him. I think for a moment and then reach into my pocket and pull out my small, black ascension stone. I do not need it, not tonight, at least. Tonight, I will spend with my family, regardless of what tomorrow holds. I hold the stone out for him to take.
“This stone comes all the way from Naruda, like me,” I tell him. “It is very important that you keep it safe for the night. Can you do that?”
He nods and holds up his palms. I set the stone in his hand, and he brings it close to him as though it is rare treasure.
“Sleep well,” I tell him.
“Night,” he says. His eyes are transfixed on the swirling planets at the foot of his bed and his fingers are still clutching the stone. I flick off the lights and leave the room, softly closing the door behind me.
My Goddess is there, waiting for me. She is leaning against the wall with her palms planted on the wall behind her. She smiles, but I can feel a wealth of distance between our hearts. “Did you put him to sleep?” she asks, her voice is a soft whisper.
“He is in bed.” The hallway is caught in a dark, velvet silence. I can hear the sounds of the crickets outside in the pauses in our conversation.
“Good. Sometimes it takes him a second to settle down. He gets himself amped up and it’s all over.” She laughs in a short, humorless breath and her eyes fall to the carpet. She shifts and her arms cross over her chest instead as her fingers pluck at her camisole. I’m entranced by every one of her movements.
“He’s very smart,” I tell her. I take her chin between my fingers and lift her head so her eyes meet mine. “Like his mother.”
Her eyes are deep emerald gems and they sparkle back up at me. Her breathing picks up ever so slightly; I can see it in the shallow rise and fall of her chest. But there is a hesitation in her eyes. Even now, she is still very far away from me. “There’s a spare bedroom downstairs. If you’d like to use that.”
I shake my head. “I want to be with you.”
She dips her head out of my grip, tucks a strand of red hair behind her ear, and she lets out a heavy sigh. I brace myself for the oncoming storm. "Listen, Garock. I'm glad you're here. Really. It's really good to see you. Too good, honestly. I got carried away with it and I shouldn't have because now I've given you the wrong impression." Her expression shows pain and I want to comfort her, but I am not sure how. "I think it's best we keep some distance between us," she confesses finally.
There it is. My mouth flattens. "Distance," I repeat.
"
Yes," she says. She crosses her arms assertively. "Between us."
"I've had enough of distance." I am trying to keep the gravel from my tone, but I have never been good at hiding from her. My frustration is evident. "I have been looking for you for a very long time."
"Why?" She spits. She is not placating me anymore; she is angry and letting me know it. "For what? For your war? Because you think I'm a masthead to one of your movements?"
"Damn the war," I growl. "I want you."
I can see in her eyes that my words catch her off guard. She looks up at me blankly and her mouth opens once, then closes, then opens again. " Garock. Don't say that. We know how this ends. Even if..." she turns away from me and her eyes stare emptily at the wall. "Even if we came back together again they need you in Naruda. You need to finish what you've started and I need to be here with Ben."
"I have an ascension stone," I tell her. "I can travel between our worlds."
"Until you lose it in a battle or crack it and then I'm left here wondering if you're alive or dead."
She tucks her hair back again. Her hair is shorter than it used to be, bobbed around her shoulders, and I notice how she fidgets with it. There are black shadows under her eyes. She is tired. When she speaks again, her voice is softer. "That's the worst part, you know. The wondering. Not knowing if you're alive or dead or...what. I can't be stuck like that. Maybe, if there was a way for us to be together..."
"There is." The idea hits me suddenly and I blurt the words out. "Let me bond you to me."
Kennedy knits her eyebrows. She looks more confused than ever.
"You mean like your bond with Swing? Is that even possible?"
"A Kurah has never bonded with anything other than steel, true. But you and I have a habit of doing the impossible."
Her eyes flicker over my face, searching my expression. "Don't you need it to fight? Your axe--"
"Is a piece of metal," I interrupt. "I need you more than I've ever needed that." I hold her face in my hands and softly rub my thumbs over her cheeks. "Was that so hard to see?"
She is vulnerable now, her eyes deep as ponds. "Yes."
"Then let me show you."
She is shy again, like she was when she first fell to my planet, words falling from her in rapid fire. “I have to wake up in the morning for Ben, not to mention I’m sure you’re exhausted with whatever twists and turns through space and time you had to do to get here—”
I swallow the rest of her words as I close my mouth over hers. Her protests die quickly and she moans against my lips as I curl my tongue inside of her mouth and taste her. “I want this,” I tell her when we break with our lips still connected. "Let me show you that you are all I need."
“Screw it,” she whispers. She lets go of her camisole and her fingers grip my shirt instead. With impressive strength, Kennedy yanks me into her room, and I go willingly. Her walls are off-white, tinged with the night sky blue that pours in through the large window. She fumbles for the light first and with a flicker everything is bathed in warm-yellow lamp light. Her fingers turn to my shirt next and she yanks it over my head so quickly that it gets caught on my back of my neck. She lets out a startled, apologetic noise before tugging it off the rest of the way and throwing it to the floor.
“You looked really good in that shirt,” she whispers. Her eyes are dancing again.
“And yet you took it off of me with incredible speed,” I tell her.
“I guess I did.” She grins at that before launching herself at me once more, with so much force I nearly have to catch my breath. My Goddess is ravenous and her hunger is infectious. My lust breaks out of its cage and I find myself thirstier than a man in the desert. She throws her clothes off until she’s in nothing but her tiny, white underclothes. Her soft skin yields to my kisses and she tosses her head back with a moan as I ravish her neck, her chest, trailing bites and nibbles and kisses across her body.
“On the bed,” she murmurs feverishly.
I lift her. She weighs nothing in my arms but she still gasps every time I pick her up, as though the act surprises her. I lower her down gently on the bed and stand at the foot of it.
I’ve barely taken my hands off of her before she lunges for me.
Her fingers fly over my body like skipping stones. She grabs at me, tests the strength of my muscles, and digs her nails into my skin. Her lips brush over my skin with feather light kisses. Ache wraps tightly around my stiff manhood. I want to take her, but not like this.
“Slow down,” I tell her.
Her eyes restlessly flicker between mine and my chest. Already, she is breathless, as though she has run for hours. “What?” she asks.
I take the control from her and lay her down while pinning her wrists above her head. “Be here,” I command. I give her wrists a squeeze to center her attention. “I am not going anywhere. You are safe with me.”
The change in her face is infinitesimal, but I can feel her energy soften and relax underneath me. Slowly, she starts to give herself up to me. She wets her lips under the tip of her tongue and her eyes settle on mine. “You’re not going anywhere?” she repeats.
I shake my head. “No.” I release my hold on her hands but, as I had hoped, she leaves her them above her head. “I am yours,” I tell her. My eyes hypnotize her and her gaze follows me as I pull back. “And you are mine.”
I straighten my back and stand at the end of the bed frame. Kennedy is still, save the heavy rise and fall of her breasts. My shirt is at my feet and I begin to remove my pants. This attire is far too constricting, but I take my time unzipping and unbuttoning my pants. I like the view from here. I like the way she looks splayed out in front of me. Her hair is a rust-colored explosion behind her head and the curves of her body are delicious enough to sink my teeth into. Even in her underclothes, she is exposed before me and seems wildly vulnerable like this. As I drink her in with my eyes, I notice her thighs squeeze together tighter.
“What do you plan to do to me?” she asks. “Now that I’m yours.” Her hand snakes down her body and her fingers scurry under her underwear. Her knuckles work the fabric as impatience gets the best of her.
“Worship you. Every inch.” I am freer without the restricting clothes. My manhood bobs gratefully once and my Goddess’s eyes catch it. From fingertip to navel, she makes me shudder with want. I climb beside her, prop myself up, and take her arm to pull her hand away from that inviting place between her legs. Her eyes fix curiously on me as I press my thumb into her palm, spreading her fingers, and press a kiss to the tip of one.
"Can you keep your hands above your head?” I ask her. “Or will I have to restrain you?”
“No, no,” she stammers. “I’ll be good.”
I reward her and take her finger into my mouth. It tastes like my Goddess, salty and sweet, and I savor it, sucking her clean. I kiss her palm and then draw my lips down her arm, connecting my mouth to the crook of her elbow and her shoulder. When I reach her throat, she shivers. I press her hand back above her head, reminding her where it goes, before I try to take off the fabric around her chest.
"The strap is in the back."
It rips like soft grass under my hands. I pull each piece off of her arms so that her chest is bare underneath me.
She swallows. "Or...you know. That works too."
I rip off her white underwear as well, toss the fabric to the side and trace my fingers over her curves. I map out her collar bone and trace around the swell of her breasts. I cup a breast in my hand and rub the nub under my thumb until it hardens under my fingertip.
She gasps every time I touch her sensitive nipple. She leaves her hands above her head, though her fingers curl and twitch impatiently. "I have missed your body," I tell her.
"It's missed you," she whispers. She melts into my touch and I switch to the other breast, fondling and pinching her tight little nipple. She becomes feverish with lust and her little whimpers grow louder. I pull my energy inward and un
lock a small amount of my Kaul. The light dusts across my arm and sends a brief glow over her skin. My energy warms her and heightens her pleasure as she moans loudly, surprised, but protesting. The more I play with her breasts, the more wound up she gets, and she presses flush against me. The round hill of her rear fits perfectly in my lap and she rubs herself against my erect manhood.
"Relax," I remind her. My lips travel downward now as I grip her waist and trail a line of kisses down her side. When my mouth hits her hip, she jerks and giggles.
"Sorry," she breaths. "I'm ticklish there, apparently."
"Do not apologize," I say. "I love the way you laugh." To prove it, I give her another kiss there and she squirms and twists her hips in my hands again, laughing.
She won't go too far, however. My strong grip won't let her. I move my hand over her hips and to her thighs. When I sit back, I can see between her legs, and she is glistening wet, her small pleasure nub swollen and red. I imagine how easily I would slip inside of her now and my cock gives another twitch of want. Not yet. I'm not finished with my exploration of her body. I have waited too long to rush this now.
I run my hands along her legs. I press a kiss to her thigh where I can smell her musk and I feel her skin quiver under my lips. I draw my hands down her calves until I meet her feet. I take one in my hands and rub my thumbs along the arch and the toes.
"Oh God." The word seems to leave her lips before she realizes it and she moans. The muscles of her feet are tight and I smooth them out the best I can as she purrs underneath me. "Oh my God, that feels so good."
I feel a brief pinch in the base of my skull as I unlock my Kaul energy and send it through my fingertips and deep into her muscles. She loosens slightly in my hand, her bones turning to jelly. I test my Kaul over her skin to make sure I do not overpower her. In small, controlled bursts, I find I can connect our energies and make her twist and writhe in pleasure. It works and, when I release her foot and position over her, she is like melted butter, her body warm, soft, and yielding underneath me. She is as supple as Naruda fruit and my mouth waters for her. She is ready for me now. She is ready to seal the bond.
