ThunderClaw: Science Fiction Romance (Alien Warrior Book 2)

by Penelope Fletcher

  Éorik did not argue.

  Dried and just about clinging to consciousness, he dove onto the mattress and shoved his arms under the cold and plump pillow.

  The bed dipped under his hip.

  A bearded mouth scraped over his cheek, and then he knew no more.

  When his eyes next opened, heavy-lidded with aborted slumber, he tensed, mind reaching for an explanation as to the hot weight pressing on his back. He inhaled then relaxed. Beowyn had wrapped around him, face mashed into the back of his head, wheezy snores disturbing the fur on Éorik’s nape.

  He twisted his head so he could watch the male sleep.

  So many times had he dreamed of this exact scenario. He found it strange while one of his many fantasies concerning Beowyn became reality, he longed for a smaller, softer body to be curled into his front as the larger, firmer one snored at his back.

  With a start he realised the razored breathing had ended.

  Argent pupils regarded him, their five points sharpening as they focused. ‘Gratitude for saving my life.’

  Éorik double blinked. Echoes of the terror he’d experienced seeing Beowyn trapped under the stone made his heart thump. ‘Think nothing of it.’

  Scrubbing a paw over his face, Beowyn yawned. He shook himself then curled up into a seated position. ‘I came here to say exactly this. I had not meant to dally.’ His mouth quirked. ‘You distracted me with play and a nap.’

  ‘We should return to our duties.’

  ‘My Orik.’ Features drawing into a glower, Beowyn gripped the back of his neck. ‘Stop running away.’

  ‘It is not I who ran from these last times, Owyn.’

  ‘Perhaps. Face me as an equal now, then. As my friend and lover. Listen to what I say. It is a struggle to admit.’

  ‘I always listen,’ Éorik protested.

  ‘I never said it because I believed you knew it. This last moontide, I saw clearly my mistakes. When we were lost in the storm, I feared I would never get to tell you what lies in my heart.’

  ‘Owyn, you do not have to–.’

  ‘Let me say it.’ He shook his head, expression wry as though dissatisfied. ‘You are the best male I know. I am honoured you have chosen to spend your life in service of mine. It is a blessing to have you with me, and while my actions of late may have caused you pain, you must know I cherish the joy and happiness you have brought my One and our cub. It gives me peace to know should the worst befall me Vayhalun has your strength to protect it.’ He shifted his hold, fingers digging into Éorik’s shoulder above his spur, thumb idly rubbing his collarbone. ‘I task you. I am erratic, brash, arrogant and oftentimes out of my depths yet you are always there with me.’

  Éorik couldn’t bear to meet his gaze. He swallowed thickly. ‘That will never change. No matter what I will always be with you.’ Even when he and Sìne no longer sought his company in their play.

  Tutting, Beowyn leant over and kissed him.

  Éorik was too thunderstruck to reciprocate. He found grounding in the mire of hot confusion and pulled free. ‘I–.’ Another kiss, and this one lasted longer and included the Great One thrusting his tongue so deeply and wetly, their joint groan echoed.

  Trembling, Éorik jerked his face away. ‘Owyn.’ His voice hardened. ‘We should dress and–.’

  ‘We have the rest of the day to ourselves. I have seen to it. Sìne will join us soon enough.’

  At the thought of his fierce human lover sliding into bed with them, Éorik’s staff throbbed. ‘But we are needed.’

  ‘My One once said the only person I am indispensable to is her.’ Beowyn grinned lopsidedly. ‘I will deny it if you tell her I said it, but she was right. We three are indispensable to each other, and we are wearing thin.’

  Nausea rolled through Éorik. ‘Spare me your pity.’ He hitched up his knee and gestured to his foot. ‘It is fine.’

  ‘You misunderstand me. You think I’m saying this out of guilt because you were wounded. You think my feelings, this need in my blood for you is fleeting.’ Beowyn shifted until they were nose to nose. ‘I will be even plainer. I want you, me and Sìne to spend the night together.’ He eyes softened, voice husky. ‘This night and all those after it.’

  Éorik stared. ‘But I offered you myself and you told me to get out.’

  Recognition sparked in Beowyn’s eyes. He opened his mouth, expression darkening, but then stopped, catching himself on the exhale. ‘You refuse to listen. This talk is no longer doing any good. I shall wait for Sìne to deal with you.’ He sent him a look that suggested he’d need a great deal of luck to survive that encounter.

  ‘When have you ever not told me what is on your mind? You think I can’t take it?’ He kept his tone even. ‘Say what you have to say, Owyn.’

  ‘I try to move us to a different place. To tell you how I feel. Why should I bother when you seem indifferent?’

  Indifferent? ‘Do you forget I tried too? Tell me how my getting down on my knees and sucking you was not me showing you how I felt.’ He smacked aside the hand clamped on his shoulder. He swung his legs over the side of the sleeping platform and dropped his head into his hands. His chest heaved as he fought to control his anger, his insides quivered with the fear he’d say too little and too much. ‘Tell me how you enjoyed the distraction, but it changed nothing, so you sent me on my way because I dared take something you reached for.’

  ‘That selfish, mindless thing you did at Paniki?’

  Éorik’s head whipped around. ‘Selfish?’

  ‘I longed for my One. You did what you did to make yourself feel better. It had nothing to do with expressing deeper feelings.’ Beowyn looked vexed. ‘I was not at my best and it is not fair for you to use that against me.’

  Solars of frustration floated into Éorik’s throat in fat bubbles. He erupted into violence, kicking out with the intention to hurt, so Beowyn would be serious and stop crushing his will to exist amidst the agony of unrequited love.

  But ThunderClaw was King, fast and powerful. Nimbly avoiding the kick, he clasped Éorik’s thigh, used his foot to unbalance them, took the fall, rolled and straddled his prey.

  Hands pinned at his sides with his knees, Éorik struggled.

  Beowyn’s eyes dragged down the long, lean body writhing beneath him. ‘You forget yourself.’

  Éorik froze.

  He’d tried to strike the King.

  ‘Now there is doubt in your eyes,’ Beowyn said.

  ‘You are right to remind me of my place.’ Éorik’s lips felt numb.

  Beowyn’s mouth twisted. ‘Now you fail me. Why infer a rebuke as my meaning?’ Entangled as they were, a hard rock of his pelvis drove home a point Éorik’d unconsciously strived to miss. ‘I sit atop you, my cock hard, and you believe I think of rank?’ His face lowered. ‘For solars, I waited. Bedding you was a fantasy, one the pleasure couch and I indulged in with relish.’ His stormy glare melted into silver sunshine. ‘Never did I imagine you would lower yourself to love me.’

  Éorik recoiled. ‘Lower myself.’

  ‘Lah, my Éorik. Even had I been brave enough to fight for you, I feared you would deliver me a fatal blow.’

  ‘Fatal blow? I do not know of what you speak. I would never.’

  ‘Indifference.’ He pressed their foreheads together. ‘Your indifference would have broken my heart. I could tell you how many times I looked into your eyes and searched for a glimmer of what I felt. I saw nothing. I could reveal all the times I bedded a lover with you at my side, and wondered if that would be the time you reached for me. You never lifted a finger. I could speak of the times I lay awake in the midst of my harem and fought the urge to scream and scream, your name a curse and a prayer from my lips. Not once did you come.’ He panted slightly. ‘I could tell you of a thousand instances and a thousand ways I contrived to have you near me because parting from you wounded me.’ Beowyn took Éorik’s hand in his own, fingers strong and hard. His grip was sure. Steady. ‘How could the Great One make himself vulnera
ble to one so proud?’

  ‘You waited for me to….’ Éorik thought his heart would bleed from his eyes.

  ‘Finally. He listens.’

  ‘You have no idea how many times I wanted to be honest with you,’ Éorik blurted. ‘Sometimes the words would crawl up my throat but I imagined how the conversation would go, telling you of the things I wanted to be to you, do for you and to you, and I convinced myself you would scorn me.’

  Beowyn studied him. ‘I understand.’

  ‘I thought it would be better to remain silent. I had my place, you yours. That certainty was all I had.’

  ‘This, too, I understand.’

  ‘You bedded many.’

  ‘So did you.’

  ‘Took so many concubines.’

  Beowyn shrugged. ‘I am lusty.’

  Verak did not simply dispose of lovers once they were done with them.

  Jealousy flared. Face hot, Éorik glared. ‘You took males.’ A senseless accusation he spoke nonetheless.

  ‘That remind me of you,’ Beowyn said gently, knowing to highlight the obvious would embarrass him. ‘Did you never wonder why Ryki acts the way he does in your presence? You are nothing but respectful toward him. He saw it from the first.’ Beowyn flexed his fingers, bringing attention to their connection, how their calloused palms fit. ‘He saw, and he hated you.’

  ‘Sìne,’ Éorik mumbled, elated for himself and furious on another’s behalf. What about her? She who had come so far with little and asked even less. ‘Your One.’ Did he forget his promise to her?

  Beowyn pulled back, his smile blinding. ‘Is she not best?’

  He hesitated, not wanting to hurt the one he’d protected all these years. ‘She claims love for me.’

  ‘Of course.’ A crooked smile, exasperation pulling his mouth and adoration crinkling his eyes.

  Éorik jolted.

  ‘You are the most capable male I know.’ Beowyn spoke softly. ‘But in this matter, you are lost. So I am telling you the answer you need.’ He held his gaze. ‘You are her One.’

  Gut punched, Éorik’s breath left him in a grunt. His mouth formed words but he made not a sound. He felt too big for the universe as the truth swelled through him. He felt too small for Beowyn, who loomed above him like some benevolent god handing out joy. His body trembled uncontrollably as pent up sorrow and anger drained from his soul.

  All the while, his King held him down, his eyes kind and his grip strong.

  Éorik shuddered, gasped, and for just a moment more the doubt, fear and resentment turned his eyes black before the darkness shattered. Brilliant colour burned brightly, twin disks of copper, gold and bronze, brimming with the joy he could not speak.

  Chapter 39

  Beowyn couldn’t help but laugh his wild laugh at his lover’s slack expression.

  Éorik stared, enraptured.

  He curled in at the middle, greedy hands tangling in the waves of Beowyn’s dark mane to yank him closer.

  His hungry mouth attacked.

  There were no clothes to impede Beowyn’s exploration of his Commander’s muscled flesh. Nothing to stop the rough friction of their fur or the musky heat seeping from light to dark skin.

  He rubbed against Éorik fundament.

  The male bucked, eyes wide and expression incredulous.

  ‘I am no concubine.’ Beowyn grinned, playful and wicked. He nipped at Éorik’s sculpted mouth.

  With a shy smile, Éorik bit back, soothing the faint hurt with his tongue. His eyes flicked to the side, flaring hotly. ‘Your One watches.’

  ‘I know.’ Dropping a kiss to the unexpectedly silky length of a rumbling throat, Beowyn pulled away and pushed onto his knees. For a moment, he grew distracted. Éorik made a tempting sight. His broad chest heaved from his exertions and sweat gathered at his temples, dampening his white hair and turning it silver. ‘Come here, Sìne.’

  She fluttered her hands in the air. ‘I do no want to intrude.’

  ‘I said–’ his head turned, pewter eyes flashing with impatience, ‘–come here.’

  Tread unsteady, Sìne hesitantly started forward. She sped up and clambered onto the big sleeping mat. She paused and shuddered before crawling closer. Her black pupils were glazed voids and her lips red from biting.

  The pulse at her neck jumped.

  Éorik snagged her wrist and dragged her the remaining distance until she was sandwiched between them.

  This suited Beowyn well.

  He purred and rubbed his face against her exposed throat.

  Éorik did something splendid with the hand that lowered out of sight because she began uttering soft, mewling noises which made Beowyn’s staff threaten to erupt.

  He gripped himself at the base until the urge passed.

  ‘I have heard tales.’ Éorik growled in her ear. ‘The palace guards say you were fierce during the storms.’ He kissed the curve of her chin then bit it. ‘They say you were a protector.’

  She blushed. ‘I did what I had to.’

  He shook his head once. ‘You were a defender and a warrior.’

  ‘We are so proud of you,’ Beowyn murmured kissing her shoulder.

  ‘It’s what you would have done.’ She panted lustily when Éorik’s hand moved rougher on her. Her fingers entwined with his but didn’t change the tempo of the touch. She made a soft noise. ‘I was afraid if I failed, you’d hate me.’

  Éorik sent Beowyn an anguished look. He returned his gaze to Sìne, grasping her chin to hold her face still. ‘How could you think this?’

  ‘There is nothing you could do that would make us turn from you.’ Beowyn cuddled her from behind. ‘Nothing.’

  She was his greatest treasure.

  Beowyn now realised he’d loved Éorik all his life, but the awakening he’d experienced when he was little more than a cub was different to the roaring blaze of passion, respect and devotion he felt for his human mate.

  His Commander was as enamoured.

  Sìne’s chin wobbled, and she blinked to clear the liquid welling in her eyes. ‘Thank you. I tried really, really hard.’

  ‘You prevailed.’ Beowyn pulled her top off her head while Éorik slid her leathers off her hips. He cupped a buttock. Squeezed. ‘Do you like that?’

  ‘I do,’ Éorik muttered.

  Beowyn chuckled. ‘I was not asking you, but it is good to know you are enjoying yourself as much as I am.’ He palmed the small mounds gracing Sìne’s chest and licked at the spray of toasted freckles on the slope of her shoulder.

  Her nipples stabbed his palms.

  Moaning, she arched and rolled her hips. ‘Feels like a dream.’

  ‘We are very real,’ Éorik whispered. He claimed her mouth in a savage kiss.

  Beowyn finished removing her leathers and smoothed his hands over the slender, yet shapely line of her thigh. She claimed herself too skinny, but he found her supple limbs graceful, her faint curves provocative and teasing.

  She turned to kiss him, and he used her distraction to hook his arms under her legs, and pinion her knees in the crook of his inner elbows.

  It opened her thighs wide, presenting her cunt for his shaft, and gave access to their husband to kiss and bite at her buttocks. She squirmed as Éorik slid down, his rough tongue lapping at the furled hole between the soft globes. ‘Oh, God. Stop that. No, wait. Okay, don’t stop.’ A crimson flush spread across her chest and neck. ‘It’s wicked, but feels too good to stop.’

  Smiling, Beowyn caught her slack mouth and flicked her tongue with the tip of his. Her lips were soft and plump. She tasted of honeyed cream. He adored kissing her. She always seemed shocked and eager.

  Sìne twined her arms around his neck, stretching, arching her back and grinding her hips. ‘Owyn,’ she breathed.

  ‘Keep her there.’ Éorik slithered down the mattress. He flung open the chest at the foot of the sleeping platform and rummaged around.

  He returned with a fist-sized phial of bluish oil that smelt of delicate spice as he war
med it on the pads of his fingers.

  They disappeared to slip over to the place his tongue had laved.

  Breaking free of Beowyn’s kiss, Sìne panted. Her nails dug into the nape of his neck. ‘I can no understand why that feels so good. It did no feel this way when Liam and I tried–.’

  ‘Do not say his name.’ Beowyn took a moment to compose himself.

  Sìne watched him with narrowed eyes. ‘Horrible thinking of me fucking someone else, aye?’

  Just like that, the fury inside him died. He levelled her a whimsical look. ‘Such a clever mouth. I have yet to fuck it.’

  She bit her lip, trying to look offended but her eyes twinkled, and her mouth twitched. ‘You’re all talk.’

  Éorik hooked his chin over her shoulder. ‘Are you sure it is wise to bait him?’ He growled when her body stiffened then melted.

  ‘One of you kiss me.’ She gasped, head lolling. ‘Now. Right now.’

  Beowyn obliged, the heavy burn in his sac intensifying at the sight, sounds and scents of their lust. He lifted his head from the drugging kiss when her body jolted, a hard, pounding rhythm knocking her into his torso.

  Éorik was buried inside her, rutting into her with single-minded intensity.

  Beowyn cupped her breasts and thumbed her nipples. He kissed her throat and bit her ear. He revelled in her gasps and moans, the sounds spurring his movements and ushering his imminent release. Forgetting all thoughts of waiting to lie her down and take her on her back, he hoisted her up and curled his hips to press the swollen head of his staff against the wet vent at the heart of her vivid pink flesh.

  When he felt her body sway on Éorik’s retreat, he pushed himself inside the strangling channel with a single, powerful thrust, penetrating to her deepest depths. Her sheath gripped him in hot wetness, and his sac drew high against his body.

  Éorik shoved back inside, and all three of them cried out.

  His passion-glazed gaze met his Commander’s brightly burning one. After a quick kiss over his One’s face–the sight of them embracing never failing to drive her to the brink–they set a hard, unforgiving pace, slaking themselves on her body with near bruising force.