TICEES

by Mills, Shae

  Chelan moved to get out of bed, but he held her firmly. “Not so fast,” he said. “There’s no rush, and I want to train for a couple of hours first.”

  Chelan smiled at him and then hesitated. “While you’re training, may I go and visit with Fremma?”

  Korba stroked her soft cheek. “Of course you may. You don’t have to ask such a thing. But I don’t know if you will find him in his quarters.”

  Chelan was surprised. “Why? Has he returned to his command?”

  Korba shook his head. “No, Chelan. It will be a long time before he is back in my service. If I were injured such as he, I could return to work immediately, as I have men to protect me. But Fremma is my protection. If there is trouble, it is he who fights for me unless I am confronted directly. In his position, he cannot tolerate anything that diminishes his capacity. Lazen will take his place until he is as good as new. With the damage done, he will probably spend a month or more in training before resuming his command fully.”

  Chelan once again found herself wallowing in her ignorance of their hierarchy and their warring ways. But she did not show it. Hoisting herself on top of his warm body, she ran her fingers through his long hair and peered down intently into his bright blue eyes. “About Fremma and his quarters …” she began, unsure of her authority with Korba. She looked to her hands, tangled in his iridescent mane. “May he stay in the diplomatic suite?”

  Korba was about to grant her wish immediately, but could not resist the urge to play. “Why?” he asked, forcing himself to appear serious. He felt her flinch.

  “I’m not sure,” she answered truthfully. “Maybe for a lot of reasons. Mostly because he would be close, and because the plushness befits him. And because he deserves it for putting up with me.”

  Korba laughed, unable to continue with his facade. “Your wish is granted, my Lady. Besides, Fremma deserves you and your closeness after what I did to him. I had no intention of moving him back to his old quarters anyway. After all, I want to be able to keep track of both of you, and this makes it easy.” Korba grinned mischievously at her, detecting a slightly more intense pink tone to her pretty skin.

  Chelan remained quiet as her fingers worked over the smooth, bronze flesh of his chest. “Does he know that you have allowed him and me total freedom?”

  Korba simply shook his head slowly. “I’m sure he would prefer to hear that from you.”

  Chelan shifted her weight on him slightly. “Are you sure about your decision?” she asked. “I will abstain from him totally if you request it.”

  Korba remained quiet, stroking her satin-soft skin, his fingers tracing down her backbone and smoothing over her round buttocks. “It is not that I would give you to Fremma,” he whispered. “It is that I would give you anything that you desired, and that includes Fremma.”

  Chelan shook her head. “What I desire is your happiness. I won’t hurt you by going to him.” Chelan looked at him from the corner of her eye. “I am not sure that you are totally at ease with your own ways, my Lord.”

  Korba grinned. “You do not have to be very astute to have figured that out, as my behavior has been far from exemplary, but I assure you that your relationship with him is for the best. And you have proven to me over this last week that I have no fear of losing you to anyone. Although your desire for him may intensify over time with my absences, I will still feel better knowing you are in his capable and protecting arms while I am away rather than being alone. I am sure about my decision.”

  Chelan lowered her head to his chest and shut her eyes, her love for him overshadowing all other feelings. She languished in his arms, his strong heartbeat soothing her soul. His hands traced up her slender sides and rested on the partially hidden mounds of her breasts. She felt him raise his knees up, parting her legs over him.

  Chelan exhaled sharply as she felt his hard abdominal muscles contract beneath her. He drew his pelvis up and penetrated her with a smoothness that was inexplicable. Chelan had watched the black-haired Warlord train, and she knew that he possessed strength far beyond the strongest Earth male. His movements during their sexual play were testament to that, as the ease with which he held her surpassed belief. His muscles had quivered with desire, but never with strain. Her 120-pound frame was nothing compared to his sheer power and strength. It made their lovemaking the epitome of eroticism to her, as the positions he was capable of maintaining were seemingly infinite. But most of all, his movements were supremely controlled, pure fluid sex.

  At times Chelan felt dwarfed by his muscular body, even intimidated, but her feeling of vulnerability always shifted to feelings of security spawned by his gentleness and his astonishing grace, every motion unfaltering, every touch tender. And even when he took her hard, he was still deeply restrained, her comfort and pleasure always at the forefront of his passion. She knew that no matter what his frenzied state, he would never hurt her, and that knowledge had truly set her free.

  But despite the diversity of their actions and positions, Chelan liked to be face-to-face with Korba the most. She loved to look at his handsome features and to nestle into his powerful chest. And she loved the feeling of him over her, his strength, his security, and his potent masculinity protecting and sheltering her. He was raw sexual heat.

  Korba, in turn, felt the same about being face-to-face with his goddess. She gave him a feeling words could not describe, and he knew it had a lot to do with her gentle ways and her inherent shyness. He reveled in the touch of her firm breasts brushing his chest and the easy accessibility of her small body to him. His desire to be on top of her was not so much by simple choice so much as an irresistible urge to shield her seemingly fragile body with his massiveness. His women were strong and muscular, averaging 180 to 190 pounds. And they were just as aggressive in their physical and erotic pursuits as any of the men. So from him Chelan drew his instinctive desire to protect her. He was always conscious of his weight on her, but his mighty arm muscles were more than capable of supporting his own weight, for hours at a time if necessary. His masterful and potent penetrations of her soft, feminine body were easily controlled, and this morning was no exception. But finally it was time, and he reluctantly released her. “Shower time,” he whispered, kissing her forehead. “And then you go to Fremma.”

  Chelan smiled at him as he helped her up. They showered quickly, and Korba dressed for his workout. Chelan stepped from the water and looked up at him. “When it comes time to go with you, what do I wear?”

  Korba smiled at her as he adjusted his gloves. “Your gown, Chelan. For a while to come I don’t want you to appear to be the least bit intimidating or threatening. You’re not Iceanean, and you’re not a warrior, so the uniform is inappropriate for the time being.” Chelan stepped into her gown, but Korba could tell that something was bothering her.

  She looked up at him uneasily. “But I feel vulnerable and exposed in this,” she admitted quietly. “I know that in your world I am no more at risk in this than in any other type of clothing, but I am not used to that.”

  Korba watched her closely. “What would happen on Earth if you wore such a revealing garment?”

  Chelan fidgeted with the sides of the gown. “It would be construed as a seductive form of dress. It would be assumed that I was looking for a man, and that I wanted to be intimate.”

  Korba raised his brows. “With you in it, the dress does flow with sensuality and it does arouse. But you would do so in anything you wore.”

  “I know. But here I’m safe. Your men take no for an answer. On Earth I could not go anywhere unescorted, or I would be tempting fate.”

  Korba smirked. “Fate. Your world’s benign summation of unrestrained disregard and disrespect for the women of your species. A word that describes the license your men feel that such a dress gives them to plunder your body at your expense, with total disregard for your desires and feelings.”

  Chelan hugged herself. His words and analysis were dead on, but somehow, for reasons she could not explain, she sti
ll felt responsible for the actions and behaviors of her world’s men. It was the women of her world who helped raise the boys and instill their values. The women of her world were not totally absolved of guilt.

  Chelan looked up as Korba moved from her and sat up on the table. His eyes narrowed.

  “I assume you had a man when you were there?”

  Chelan nodded.

  “Did you love him?”

  Chelan bit her lip as she looked to the floor. “I’m not sure. He flattered me. He was exciting. I cared for him, but I don’t think I could commit honestly to the idea of love.”

  “Was he considerate of you? Could you have worn that gown with him in the privacy of his home?”

  Chelan was somewhat taken aback by Korba’s line of questioning. She had not thought much of home lately, and she certainly had not been thinking of Jim. But suddenly she was catapulted back in time.

  “I would not have called him the epitome of a gentleman, knowing what I do now and having experienced the men of your world. But back then, I thought he was respectful and a man of honor. In the beginning I had to forcibly stop him at times, but he did stop. As he grew to know me better, he backed off on his demands.” Chelan shuddered, her realizations becoming disturbing. “Even though I thought he treated me respectfully”—Chelan looked down at herself— “there would have been no way I could have worn this in his presence.” Chelan looked up at Korba. “He knew that I was shy and unassuming. If I had worn it alone with him,” she hesitated, “if he had been drinking, I doubt he would have stopped. He would have assumed that I had decided it was time, and that I wanted to be taken.”

  Korba continued to study her, knowing now exactly why she felt and behaved the way she did. Not all her problems were the result of her rape. She had chosen to be the companion of a man she cared for and considered to be a loving gentleman, yet it was obvious he was not. He may have been by Earth standards, but not by Korba’s. He was well aware that he could not erase all her fears and a lifetime of conditioning overnight. So rather than trying to break her of her shyness and unease with all forms of exposure, he realized that working with her slowly and easing her into his society was the best plan.

  Korba stood and smiled at her. “Okay. I’ll get you another gown.”

  Chelan shook her head. “Oh, no. I don’t want another gown.” Her eyes pleaded with him as she began to explain. “I just want a covering. You see, Dar gave this to me back when he—” She nearly choked, and Korba could sense the intensity of the feelings that slammed into her. “The gown is special to me,” she whispered.

  But Korba was not going to allow her to go with her feelings unspoken. “When he what?” he pressed.

  Chelan took a deep breath and attempted to calm herself. She straightened her shoulders. “When he cared.”

  Korba hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I’m sure that in his own way, he still cares, Chelan.”

  Chelan stared at him as she gnawed at her cheek and pondered his words. Korba could see she was unable to sort through the onslaught of confusing emotions. “Just a cloak,” she muttered, her determination to skirt around the whole issue obvious.

  Korba reached out and touched her shoulder. “I’ll have something for you when you return,” he assured.

  Chelan cracked an uneasy smile. “Thank you,” she said quietly. And with that, she headed out into the Command Center on her way to see Fremma.

  The guards parted obediently for her and nodded in respect. Chelan walked directly into Fremma’s quarters and stopped suddenly. He had company. Chelan saw Fremma partially reclined on his bed with a woman sitting in a chair beside him, both engaged in light conversation.

  Chelan immediately started to apologize for her intrusion, but Fremma interrupted her.

  “Chelan!” he greeted as he sat up.

  Chelan smiled spontaneously at the man she loved so much. But her attention was quickly diverted by the black-haired woman who stood slowly in response to her entrance.

  Chelan’s smile faded. She recognized the woman, the woman that Fremma had been making love to so long ago. Chelan’s stomach knotted. Intense feelings surfaced all at once, nearly knocking the wind from her lungs. Instantly, she felt both threatened and enraged, but worst of all, she was catapulted headlong into self-doubt about her relationship with Fremma. She wanted to return to Korba, thereby avoiding the pain of the past, but she was rooted to the spot.

  Fremma could tell immediately that Chelan was reeling from the blow of meeting Lena head on. He was also keenly aware of Lena’s defensive stance and the warrior’s failure to recognize Chelan in her formal capacity. But he was even more disturbed by Lena’s armament and Chelan’s extreme vulnerability.

  Fremma stood cautiously and cleared his throat, hoping to diffuse any situation before it arose. “My Lady,” he began, as he stepped up to Lena’s side. “This is my friend Lena.” Fremma hesitated, watching both women carefully. “And this, Lena, is our Commander’s Lady, the Lady Chelan. I don’t believe that you attended the Koll, so you would not have been introduced to her.”

  Chelan took in a deep breath and stilled herself. She reviewed all the lessons that she had learned over the months, and she concentrated most of all on Fremma’s word of love. But all her senses were assaulted at once by the woman before her, and she could not tamp down her feelings of possessiveness. “Ah, yes,” she began as she stared at Lena. “I seem to recognize the face, dear Fremma, not to mention the body,” she added acidly.

  Lena flinched and then looked at Fremma, her eyes ablaze. “Your pet project, I believe,” she said with disdain. “And the unfortunate reason for your unnecessary withdrawal from me, I assume?”

  But Fremma ignored Lena, his eyes still fixed on Chelan. He was shocked by Chelan’s unexpected challenge to a woman who could take her easily, and who by Iceanean law had more than ample reason to do so. Fremma finally focused on the tangible menace beside him. He grabbed Lena’s arm forcefully. “Don’t press your luck, Lena,” he warned.

  But Lena disregarded him. She had come to be with the man who was her friend and who had unconditionally shared his life and body with her for years. Upon her arrival today, he had informed her that he was choosing to abstain from her indefinitely, with no reason forthcoming.

  But now Lena felt she had found the source of Fremma’s abnegation, and she was not going to submit to an alien who had placed illogical restrictions on one of her men. Least of all, an alien who was a Warlord’s mate. There wasn’t a woman in the Empire who wouldn’t do practically anything to procure the favors of Korba. Therefore, since Chelan had obtained the unattainable, that was where she should stay, by Korba’s side. She should not interfere with Fremma.

  Lena took a step toward Chelan. “So, you are Korba’s Letted woman,” she began tonelessly. “And obviously a lot more, as you seem to have done well at distracting Fremma also. I guess it is not enough that you possess exclusively the most important man in the galaxy. You also feel the need to drag down all his important officers with you, contaminating them with your alien ways.”

  Chelan immediately bristled to the woman challenging her as Marri had done. “It is obvious that I have succeeded rather well, for I see that you have been relegated to his chair rather than his bed.”

  Lena’s breathing caught as her rage consumed her. “Fremma, I will not stand here and be slandered by an—”

  “No, you certainly won’t stand here any longer!” Chelan shouted. “May I suggest that you make a prudent choice and vacate these premises immediately, as long as Fremma does not object.”

  Fremma’s eyes widened, and he smiled inwardly.

  But Lena refused to budge. Before Fremma could move to smooth things over, Chelan took a step back, the main doors opening. “Lazen!” she called firmly.

  Immediately the guard was by her side, his lazgun drawn. “My Lady,” he acknowledged.

  “I believe that this woman has overstayed her visit, not to mention her welcome. I wou
ld appreciate her removal, if Fremma permits.”

  Yanis saw the trouble from the corridor, and he stepped back to hit an emergency button.

  Lena looked up at Fremma, seeking his defense, but Fremma was rendered speechless by Chelan’s uncharacteristic assertiveness, not to mention the ease with which she used the resources available to her. It was almost as if she had been born to her position.

  Lazen responded to Chelan’s order by moving just in front of her. He stood braced for trouble, awaiting Fremma’s confirmation.

  In a flurry of ebony, Korba rounded the door, his eyes scanning the stage and its players, his icy stare settling on Lena.

  “My Lord!” she gasped, dropping to one knee and bowing her head momentarily before looking back at him and standing.

  Korba glanced at Lazen’s defensive stance. Then he walked up to Chelan’s side. He touched her shoulder, but she remained immovable, her eyes firmly set on Lena. “What’s the trouble, my Lady?” he asked quietly, as he studied Lena carefully.

  Chelan spoke calmly and firmly. “I had asked the woman to leave, but she seems to have a degree of difficulty with the Iceanean language, so I’ve asked Lazen to spell out my request more directly.”

  Lena began to lose her composure under her Lord’s unfriendly scrutiny. She had always respected and revered the massive man, but the loss of Fremma and the shock of meeting the beautiful woman abruptly in Fremma’s quarters had fogged her senses. She remained very still.

  Korba smiled to himself over Chelan’s choice of words but he kept his jaw set. “Did the Lady Chelan request your departure?” he asked.

  “Yes, my Lord,” Lena answered obediently. “She stipulated that I leave as long as Fremma—”