Zorroc: Feline Predators of Ganz
Page 10
"Is this uncomfortable for you?" he growled roughly, his control waning dangerously.
“Umm, more.” Her reply unleashed the last bonds of his restraint. He began pumping faster and harder until he roared with the rightness of it. His self-control in shreds, he pummeled into her until her moans cascaded to a scream. He felt her convulsions milking him firmly and he followed her, putting his mouth onto the sensitive cord at the base of her neck and biting hard then licking the area to begin the healing process. She did not utter a peep; clearly out again. They would have to practice long and hard to keep her with him after her climax; he smiled and enfolded her firmly in anticipation. She belonged to him.
He rolled onto his back then drew her on top of him; a common Gattonian gesture of possession meant to provide comfort and warmth to their mate; they slept. Later that night he took her again impaling her thoroughly, branding her, once again, as his. Afterward, he fell into a deep contented sleep.
Cat remained awake and restless after their last bout of lovemaking. Her neck, while tender, proved nothing compared to the confusion she felt. She still hadn't gotten any answers on the fate planned for the women, or even her for that matter. She had many issues to address with Zorroc, but every time she got within four feet of him, everything whizzed out of her head like ants fleeing insecticide.
She slid into her environ suit and exited their tent to take a quiet walk into the red desert. The horizon glowed like a built in night-light and it had cooled down to a comfortable tepidity. Cat far preferred this planet after dark she decided. She found a boulder and climbed onto it tracking the swirling sky…and finally relaxed. Zorroc had promised to answer her questions; she’d just have to keep her hands off him long enough to ask. She glanced down catching a movement out of the corner of her eye and froze. She didn't think anything alive existed here, what were they? They looked like a combination of a slug and a snake. Fat, slimy, and over ten feet long, they quickly multiplied, surrounding her—trapping her. Oh God, she was slug meat. No one remained awake to help her and if she screamed it might be over before she could shout 'Slime me'.
She became more frightened by the second, and silently told Zorroc she loved him and apologized for leaving him this way. Everything crystallized in that moment; she loved him and wanted to have a real marriage complete with devotion, love, trust, lust, friendship, and even children. The giant slugs were closing in for the kill. She closed her eyes.
"Sycor, Bandoff! Weapons now, Cat is in trouble." Zorroc had never known greater fear. Cat's abject terror had become his own; she would die if they could not reach her in time. Her horror fueled his own as he charged out of the tent and ran into the night. He located her almost immediately; she had not wandered far, but syphors surrounded her. Reliably, the deadliest scavengers in the universe; they ate anything alive. Varying atmospheres did not affect them so they could survive anywhere. All ships now had syphor detectors to prevent infestation to other planets when it was discovered that was how they had spread.
"Never have I seen so many Syphors, Zorroc, what do you propose, whatever it is it had best be fast, they are ready to attack," Sycor mind-thought to Zorroc. "One would be enough to kill her," he added unnecessarily; they all knew the situation. The giant parasites had not sensed the Gattonians; too focused on their prey and unintelligent to sense danger.
"We will form a triangle around her and create a force field of protection then eliminate the slugs; watch your backs for more of them."
Before Zorroc had completed his orders, they moved into position and mind-merged a force field around Cat. Zorroc mind-thought to her that she was protected and safe but not to make any sudden moves, they were preparing to kill the Syphors and did not want her in the way. Cat focused on him as if it would be her last glimpse and silently nodded. The Syphors attacked en masse but could not break through the barrier. It did not take long to zap the slugs and when they finished, Bandoff messaged to the other two that this would keep them in fresh meat for weeks. Sycor yipped aloud while Zorroc mind-thought disgust as he moved in to snatch Cat from the boulder and sprint toward their tent.
Chapter Eight
"There he goes again, prowling the perimeter of the camp. Probably an excuse to get away from me," Dee uttered to herself, as she watched another couple enter a tent to copulate, no doubt.
They should’ve been called bunnies instead of Gattonians. They’d been stranded for two days, so far, and the place resembled a high tech Indian village. Most of the women had been delivered here along with the Gattonian crew. They camped by a large lake surrounded by mountains. It was quite beautiful, abounding with lush vegetation, fresh water, and clean air. She felt like a transplant into the Garden of Eden.
Teepees littered the entire area including a cooking station, med-facility and a group of five tents that acted as small procreation palaces for anyone who wanted to partake. Anyone except for her, of course. The women were acclimating extremely well to their situation; the Gattonians, tall, muscular, and hypnotically sexual, were very hard to resist. Some partnered with a particular male while others seemed to want to sample them all, and what a selection to choose from, not that she had been invited. The males treated her like the plague. She shared a tent with Prolinc; their mats separated by at least six feet. He hadn't come near her and she questioned her desirability and non-existent appeal. To top it all, her highly arousing dreams blossomed steadily out of control until the line between fantasy and reality bled into another realm altogether. Every night he came to her in her sleep with his deep rusty mane and mossy green eyes, feasting on her with fervent abandon. Every morning she woke up soaked between her legs, alone.
Dee wondered why they even shared a tent; he obviously had zero interest in her. He’d probably been ordered to watch over her by Zorroc or more likely, Cat. The poor, hunky protector could have had any woman in the camp, but instead, ended up stuck with her. She hadn't seen him near the palaces yet, but supposed it was only a matter of time before he joined the legions of his fellow males.
She wandered down to the lake, to the cordoned off section reserved for the women. A cold bath was just what she needed most. She grabbed her soap, a change of clothes, and what passed for a towel. Although tiny, the five-inch square cloth dried her completely. She found the area deserted, for once, and looked forward to a long, cool soak. The women had each been provided with two garments. They were one piece and resembled a cat suit that opened from the top; the Gattonians called them Environ-suits. The special material adjusted to varying temperatures and conditions similar to the tents and took on the colors of the immediate area; blending in with chameleon like success. Matching Environ-boots completed the ensemble. Their culture did not approve of the physical restrictions caused by underwear. Every tent had what Dee thought of as a private dry cleaner—they really knew how to rough it.
She concentrated on the beauty of her surroundings as she stripped and sank into the soft cool water. Long reeds framed this section of the lake with occasional white fairy blossoms that dotted the waters edge. The water sparkled a delightful golden shade clear to the bottom, showcasing a myriad of plants and sea life. At first, she just swam and then floated, enjoying the flow of motion over her body. After about ten minutes, she made her way to the shore, retrieved her soap, and began to loosen her braids. They fell in sunlit-ribbons down to her waist. It made up her one true vanity. Though much more practical in a shorter style, she couldn't make herself lop it off, so she kept it up and out of the way. It made her think of Cat and Angel, they had made a pact as children to keep their hair long, and, so far, they all had. She hoped they would be together again soon, she felt stranded in this sea of strangers.
Prolinc had never seen her hair down, and the sight of her naked body with all of that hair caressing it proved impossibly erotic and, as a Gattonian, he was an expert on erotic. He smirked, watching her touch herself as she washed her hair, neck, breasts, and between her legs, to which she gave special attention. H
e had been mesmerizing her for the past two nights and making love to her in every way imaginable until the early morning. In trance, she had been responsive but he wanted more from her, he wanted her to be alert when he next made love to her. He wanted her to know that it had all been real and that her body craved his just as his returned the favor. He made himself turn and leave so she could enjoy the remainder of her bath in privacy. His crew knew to avoid her; he had made his intentions very clear; she was his property.
One of the females glided toward him with purpose; Ava, he recalled vaguely. Though small in stature, she had a cap of raven black hair, blue eyes, and pert breasts. Her eyes held unmistakable humor as if she laughed at the world as well as herself most of the time.
"Hiya big boy, are you ready to try me out?" She was one who preferred to pleasure many and not ashamed of her sexuality. He liked her but she did not hold his desire.
"I would move on to more fertile ground," Prolinc responded with a rare grin. "I see Zanan by the mating tents looking for someone to spend his break with, he is a good male, Ava, and worthy of your time and attention." Still grinning, he headed toward the edge of the camp to check with the on-duty crew concerning disturbances signaling a possible attack from the Dargons or others.
Dee witnessed the exchange and the Cheshire grin Prolinc wore as they parted company—Ava toward the palaces to instigate a come-on to the Gattonian waiting there and Prolinc toward the perimeter of camp. Had they planned to meet later?
She'd made Angel and Cat promise to be armed; the time had come to follow her own advice. Maybe it would take her mind off sex for a while. She approached Sark, a high-ranking guard, and excellent marksman. "Sark, I need your help, if you have a moment." She smiled as she moved closer. "I need a weapons lesson. I'm a former police officer and a detective and could be valuable if we run into trouble." And so far trouble followed these guys around like a friendly puppy, she added to herself. "I hoped you could demonstrate the use of your side arm and find one for me."
Sark looked astounded for a moment and then lost all expression, he wouldn't meet her eyes as he proclaimed, "Prolinc will instruct you should he deem it necessary." Then turned and stalked away.
Dee cursed a blue streak; incensed and confused. What was wrong with her? They treated her like day old vermin. She turned and bumped smack into Prolinc. "Why did you approach Sark?" he inquired quietly, his grin conspicuously absent.
"I need a weapons lesson and since you refuse to get within six feet of me, I thought Sark would instruct me. Obviously, I miscalculated. What is it, have I contracted some dreaded disease? No one will have anything to do with me, including you," she challenged testily and stormed away before he could see her tears beginning to form. She entered their tent and collapsed onto her mat. What was happening, she hadn't cried since she turned eight.
"I will instruct you, Dee, you had but to ask." Having followed close on her heals, he now observed her curiously, tilting his head in a Gattonian way. What did she expect of him, he wondered fixedly. He had been working hard at developing a less volatile atmosphere between them. He needed to secure her trust and from there, her surrender but whenever he approached she threw up her shields. One moment she cast a wall of fire against him and the next a frigid gorge longer than the ice province of Arctica. He had yet to find a way around her barriers to her trust-center.
He had strategized that a combination of acquainting her body with his at night through trancing, coupled with a non-threatening distance between them during the day would draw her to him. Could he have miscalculated? As a supreme tactician, that did not seem likely. Her compliance to lay with him was essential to his plan of making her his chosen one. He wanted her to crave him like a drug, for the role of chosen one would be difficult for her to swallow with her overabundance of pride.
"Get a grip," Dee moaned as she rose wiping her eyes subtly and told him she would like a lesson at that time, if convenient for him. He gently took her hand and led her beyond the perimeter they had set up for camp and explained the use and inner workings of their firearms.
They worked from energy similar to earth's solar power. They never ran out of juice or charges as Prolinc explained. Light, smooth and exacting, Dee had no problem figuring distance and accuracy. Prolinc was amazed at her proficiency but did not tell her what a rare skill she had mastered in such a short time. She would put many of his crew to shame with her precision and reflexes. He had not realized what an aphrodisiac her skill and ease with his weapon would prove. He wanted to take her right there, in the meadow, well away from the camp. He began to advance. Dee noticed a decided change in the atmosphere and looked into Prolinc's eyes. His usually shuttered, unreadable gaze had changed to one of piercing hunger, directed unflinchingly at her; she licked her suddenly dry lips.
"Time to get back to camp, I suppose, we'll be missed before too long," she suggested uncertainly.
Since the very first, Dee had wanted nothing more than to wrap her small hands around his huge, corded neck and strangle the living daylights out of him, never had she felt such an overwhelming reaction to another human being. Now she saw her reaction for what it was; she wanted him worse than a starving man craved a Whopper. Maybe she could lure him to their tent, if the message in his flaming cat-eyes signaled what she hoped.
He smiled and shook his head slowly. He reached up and began dislodging her braids. After her hair hung completely free, he started on her pantsuit unfastening the top and slowly drawing it down over her body. He watched for signs of reluctance from her but all he saw was his own blatant hunger reflected back at him in her stormy sky gray eyes.
He smiled; she wanted him.
He had taken her repeatedly every night since they set up camp but it had been pitch dark in their tent; therefore, he had not seen her naked body until earlier at the lake. To see his dark hands cover her soft flesh and watch her body respond to his touch, boiled his blood to flashpoint. Every lush curve, mysterious hollow and graceful line proclaimed her a masterpiece; her scent made him harden instantly as his nostrils flared to take more of her essence. He stared markedly at her deep golden complexion, an ideal compliment to her cascading wheat colored hair…as she flushed a rosy hue from her chest up; he froze, mesmerized. He had embarrassed her with his bold appraisal. He leered and continued devouring her in frank appreciation as he finished stripping her of her suit.
When she stood naked in front of him, he began to shed his own clothing. She swatted his hands away and took over. Her hands flowed over him in a smooth cadence of desire and need. The light caught her hair, setting it ablaze. His blaze. Her hands proceeded down his body, followed by her eyes until they found his erection. He bulged formatively, she knelt down so her mouth was parallel with his tool and took an experimental lick. He jerked at the contact and she moved in for more, he tasted positively delicious. She couldn't get her mouth around all of him so she licked, sucked and kissed, stroking him with one hand, holding him in place with the other at the base of one buttock. Prolinc, equal parts enraptured and horrified, stood on the precipice of spewing right into her mouth; he tried halfheartedly to disengage her and then held her to him as he erupted violently into the strongest orgasm he could recall.
Prolinc, who had always prided himself on his control, had used his intended chosen one as a common whore. He sunk to his knees in front of her, not sure of how to apologize for his disrespect and lack of reserve, but when he saw her licking her lips and caught the wicked gleam in her eyes, he attacked instead. She gave a surprised yelp as he knocked her back onto the soft fragrant ground and proceeded to torture her with his body, hands, lips, and teeth. He rubbed against her like a cat in heat while his hands fondled her breasts and mound, his talented fingers separating her and then playing on her nub and swollen labia before teasing one finger and then two inside her. His mouth fused with hers and his tongue massaged hers in the tempo to come. Hard as granite once again, this time he would explode into a different orifice.
So focused on their love play, he at first thought the ringing in his ears signaled intense desire, but when the siren increased in volume, he jumped to his feet in one motion and grabbed his uniform. "We are under attack," he rasped, "hurry, and dress."
Dee stared at him, dumbfounded for a couple of seconds until her brain ignited; then she scrambled into her clothes and boots. "Trouble again," she commented to the breeze. "I want a weapon, Prolinc," she shouted after his retreating form.
She arrived at the camp greeted with barely constrained chaos. Scattering like mice, some ran toward the reeds by the lake while others headed toward the hills. The remainder ran hell bent for a group of boulders about a hundred yards to the left of base camp. She felt like a deserted rat that had missed the last life raft and when she glanced up, she knew she'd pegged it right. Some sort of monster had her in its sights, barreling toward her too fast for her to react. At the last possible moment, it exploded, coating her with debris and liquid that smelled worse than anything in her experience. Next, she was tackled and thrown up over someone's shoulder that moved like lightening toward the boulders, when they reached cover; he placed her carefully on the ground. She landed flat on her back only to look up and focus on Prolinc's ferocious molten green orbs. She smiled wickedly, "Got a gun?"