Garden of Desire: 1

by Delilah Devlin

  Cantor’s hands closed over her buttocks and he squeezed, pushing her down on his cock. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you? May as well take advantage—while you can.”

  Martha felt as though he’d reached into her chest and twisted her heart. “What is it with you? I only want you happy—not to smother you. I’m even willing to share you.”

  Cantor shook his head. “I’m not staying on this planet. I won’t be tied to this place. I won’t be bound by you.”

  With a roll of her hips she eased down to slide her sheathe over him. “I’m not asking for forever, Cantor. I’m not asking to be your wife. Just take me with you.”

  “It’s too dangerous.” One hand lifted and he slapped a buttock.

  Martha gasped and rose up, all the way to his tip. “Why can’t you stay? What’s so alluring about your pirate life?” She slammed her hips down.

  “I miss the adventure.”

  “You sound like a bored, little boy. Don’t you know you’re smack in the middle of the greatest adventure of all?” She pushed off his chest and let the blanket drop away from her shoulders, knowing the other men had only to look across the fire to see her breasts swaying above him—but this was for him. This might be her last chance to make him see her. She flung back her head and rolled her hips, rising and lowering on his cock, faster now.

  Cantor’s expression remained grim, but his hands claimed her movements, forcing her faster still.

  “You know, she’s in love with you.” She didn’t have to say her name. The instant softening of his features told her he knew she meant “Violet”.

  “I was her first kiss.” His hips lifted, spearing her. “She’ll grow up—find someone else.”

  “You also gave her an orgasm.” She brought her hands to her breasts and caressed them, pushing them together. “She’s a woman.” I’m your woman, she wanted to scream.

  He snorted. “I know. She’s had her menses since she was ten. Play with your tits for me, baby.”

  Martha smiled and plucked her nipples, tugging them until they rose like hard, round buttons from the center of her areolas. “I don’t get it. I don’t get you.”

  “I can’t be gotten. I’m not staying.”

  “Why?” She moved faster, bouncing on his cock.

  “Because I’m dying here.” His thighs strained to raise his groin higher. “I want to go back to pirating.”

  “Take us with you,” she said, her breath catching as she ground down, rubbing her clit on the crisp hairs at the base of his cock.

  “No. Not safe.”

  “Safe isn’t what I’m looking for. I love you.” Despite the chill in the air, his body, hot as furnace, caused hers to perspire. She kept moving, grinding and circling her hips to increase the heat between her cunt and his cock.

  “Don’t. This is all there is,” he warned, one hand slipping down her belly to finger her clit. “All I have to give.”

  “You’re wrong. You have everything to give.” Martha abandoned the conversation, concentrating instead on showing him, gifting him with her love and passion.

  * * * * *

  The next morning Cantor woke well before dawn. Martha had fallen asleep on top of him and was shivering, the covers having fallen away. He touched her bottom and discovered her skin was icy cold.

  He pulled the blanket up and turned her to let her take the heat he’d left on the blanket beneath him. Martha murmured and drove a leg between his and snuggled her chest against him. But she didn’t wake.

  Neither of them had slept much—they had both sensed a farewell in the offing. He was surprised how much the thought pained him.

  Had Martha finally managed to inch into his heart with her relentless pursuit—much like the spaniel of his childhood?

  He looked up at the dark canopy of leaves above him, listened to the sounds of creatures stirring in the early morning and felt a rebirth, or rather a reawakening of his spirit.

  How could the recycled air of a space cruiser compare to the fresh scent of a forest or a woman’s musk? How could confinement in a metal-hull offer more freedom than blazing a trail through a virgin forest?

  And speaking of virgins, how could anything be more gratifying than leading a young woman through her journey of self-discovery?

  The two women, the one in his arms and the other waiting in his cabin, offered him two diverse voyages. Enough of an adventure to sate any pirate’s need for exploration.

  Martha stirred and her hair brushed his chin.

  It always came back to Martha. Her wide, honest stare stripped away his barriers and pretensions, leaving him feeling naked and sometimes cruel. Martha made him feel guilty he wasn’t a better man.

  He leaned back to look into her face. Martha was beautiful. She was sunshine and laughter—and sex. Dark, carnal sex. He remembered her sweet ass lifting to meet his hand, as she lay draped over his thighs. Her moist response to his lesson. She’d surprised him. Just like the day she picked his lock and snuck beneath the covers to blow his cock and mind.

  The woman was adventure with a capital “A”.

  Cantor wanted to wake her and tell her, but the feeling was too new. And he had a lot to think about. He kissed her forehead and hugged her close to his body.

  Martha giggled, her eyes still closed. “You woke up in a good mood,” she said, brushing her thigh against his arousal.

  “We haven’t time for that. Besides, the men have heard quite enough of your excitement,” he said grumpily. “They’re probably ready to hump a tree this morning. How’s your ass?”

  “Don’t remind me. I’m a little stiff today.”

  “I’m a lot.”

  Her eyes opened and she looked a little unsure. “You’re teasing me.”

  “Is that against the rules?”

  “Don’t go changing on me now. I don’t want to like you too much.”

  Cantor kissed her mouth, trying to tell her with his tenderness everything would be all right. When he lifted his head he smiled at her bemused expression. “Now, find your pants. The men have already seen as much of you as I’m willing to share.”

  “What do you care? Soon, you’ll leave me, and I’ll have to show some other man a whole lot more than my flabby ass,” she grumbled.

  He grabbed both cheeks in his hands, making her squeal. “For now, it’s mine.”

  “Your hands are cold!” she said, reaching behind her to push him away.

  He held firm. “Then warm them.”

  Martha leaned back and looked into his face. “You seem different today.”

  “Today, I face a dragon.”

  Her smile warmed his heart. “Before I put my pants on, I’d like to wash. Can I borrow your canteen?”

  “Sure, but wrap the blanket around you, when you leave.”

  She pulled the blanket with her as she stood and uncovered the breeches she’d worn the previous day. Flipping them over her shoulder she held out her hand for the canteen he pulled from his pack.

  “Here’s a cloth, too.” He handed it to her, laying back on his sleeping bag to watch her walk away.

  “About time you gave that woman some peace,” Darak said.

  Cantor looked over his shoulder to watch his friend approach.

  His friend wore a crooked grin on his face. “I’m surprised she can still walk.”

  With the sun breaking through the leaves overhead, Cantor felt too relaxed to rise to Darak’s teasing. “She’s a strong woman.”

  “So we noticed—among other things. She has a fine, strong body. Broad hips that will bear children easily, and breasts to feed an entire crew of little pirates.”

  Cantor smiled at the thought.

  “The men are wondering when you’re going to cut her loose. Several of them are thinking of courting her.”

  Cantor’s good mood evaporated. “She’s not available.”

  “Not yet, hmm? Don’t blame you.” The corners of Darak’s mouth turned up. “Cold, is it?”

  Cantor followed his g
aze down and realized his cock still rested outside his trousers and quickly tucked it into his pants.

  Darak’s laughter rang loudly in the stillness, bringing curses from the rest of the men stirring in their blankets.

  “I’d better see what’s keeping Martha,” he muttered, stuffing his feet into his boots.

  Darak laughed harder. “I thought we were hunting dragons not pussycats.”

  Cantor threw his pack at Darak and stalked off in the direction he’d seen Martha leave. Once he entered the forest, he realized she’d taken a long time. He picked up his pace, worried now that Martha might be in trouble or had lost her way.

  “Martha!” he called out. He heard water burbling nearby and followed the sound to a pool with steam rising off its surface. Black rocks rimmed the pool and the water smelled of sulfur. There beside the water, he found the blanket with Martha’s clothing piled on top, but no sign of her. “Martha!”

  “Cantor!” she shouted back, the sound strangely muffled.

  He tore off his clothes and waded into the water, then swam in the direction of her shout past an outcropping. He rounded the corner and saw Martha, naked, kneeling on a ledge at the mouth of a large cave. As he drew near, he noticed a foul odor that came from within the cave.

  “Sweetheart,” he said, keeping his voice low, “get off that ledge, now.”

  Martha looked back at him. “There’s something inside, I heard a scratching sound.”

  “Get off the ledge,” he repeated, his heart in his throat. “Swim back to me.”

  Martha’s gaze said she didn’t understand, but she backed off the ledge and sank into the water. Cantor waited until she was near, then whispered, “Get back to the camp and tell the men to bring their weapons.”

  Reading the urgency in his voice, her eyes rounded. She swam back with him shadowing his movements. At the edge of the pool, they dressed quickly.

  “Do you think it’s one of the creatures?” she asked.

  “I don’t know, but I smelled a rotting carcass. Now get back to camp.”

  “Aren’t you coming?”

  “I’ll wait for the others here. You and Kirsten stay behind.”

  Martha nodded and hurried away.

  Cantor knelt behind a tree to keep watch. They must be nearer to the foot of the mountain than he’d thought. And the dragons must be able to move in the forest with greater ease than he’d hoped.

  Chapter Ten

  The men gathered at the edge of the pool. The sunlight, filtering through the leaves above, reflected on its dark, burbling surface. The pool looked like a giant, heated cauldron.

  “Ivan, do you think the creature can be immobilized with an electro-stun?” Cantor asked, turning back to the men.

  “I’d set the charge to level two to be on the safe side,” he replied.

  “Immobilized?” Akron asked. “Why not kill it?”

  “We don’t understand what the creature is yet, or how it interacts with this environment,” Cantor said. “Let’s take a little time to study it before we act rashly.”

  “Cantor’s right,” Ivan said. “If we can immobilize it, I can take tissue samples back for analysis. We should go into the cave so we can also look around its home for clues to its behavior.”

  “We’re goin’ in the cave?” Akron’s face twisted with disgust. “Did ya not get a whiff?”

  “Look, this isn’t a democracy. The Captain left Cantor in charge,” Darak said. “We don’t have to kill it, today.”

  Akron grimaced. “So what’s the plan? And who’s goin’ in the cave?”

  “Since you haven’t the stomach, I will,” Cantor said. “I’ll crawl up near the mouth and draw it out. Akron, you and Darak will hit it with the electro-stuns as soon as it clears the cave.”

  “And if it doesn’t come out?” Akron asked.

  “We play it by ear.”

  “Take these,” Ivan said, handing him several phospher-flashes.

  Cantor clipped the small explosives to his belt. The grenades produced more light than explosion, but they might give him an advantage in a tight spot. “Let’s move in. And keep the noise down. We don’t want it waking up before we’re in place.”

  The men split into two groups, circling the pond from opposite directions. Cantor’s heart raced, a familiar adrenaline rush buzzing in his head. When they neared the mouth of the cave, he signaled to the men behind him and the ones assembled on the opposite side of the gaping black hole.

  “Jesus!” Akron gagged and reached for the bandana he’d tied around his neck for this mission. He slipped the edge of it over his nose and mouth, but his eyes still watered.

  Cantor shared a grin with Darak. The smell would gag a maggot, but Cantor pushed aside the discomfort. He couldn’t afford to mask any one of his senses where he was going.

  He donned a pair of infrared glasses and crept quietly into the cave. Through the lenses, the things lurking in the shadows were revealed in shades of gray and black. Water glistened on the walls, dripping into a hollow near the entrance, forming a shallow pool within the cave. Forest debris was piled at the edge of the pool, looking crushed, as if something very large had lain atop a bed of leaves. But there was no sign of any animal, alive or rotting.

  The cave was deeper than he had first supposed, and although every hair lifting on the back of his neck told him not to venture deeper, he resisted the urge to back away. He’d never backed away from a challenge in his life.

  Footsteps behind him told him his men weren’t letting him go in alone. He was glad they covered his back. As he neared what he’d first thought was the back of the cave, he found a narrow tunnel, large enough for two men to walk through, shoulder to shoulder. Wind whistled through the tunnel, carrying a stronger stench with it.

  He stepped inside, signaling to the men behind him to follow. The tunnel was long and dipped toward the end, the floor growing wetter and slimier with moss. He was careful to find firm footholds as he climbed down lest he slip.

  Finally, the tunnel opened into a larger room and he peered out, trying to discern shapes in the dim, cavernous interior as his men gathered behind him.

  “Fucking hell,” Darak whispered.

  Before them stretched a naturally formed cave of black, igneous rock, its walls, shiny as black glass. The floor looked as though a child had tossed pebbles onto its surface as the volcanic rock cooled to form a thousand circles of graduating rings.

  “There!” Akron whispered, touching Cantor’s shoulder and then pointing to something at the far end of the cave.

  Something dark and unreflective huddled on the floor like a great, coiled snake.

  “If our weapons don’t take him down, we’ll have hell trying to evade him,” Darak murmured.

  “There’s no light in here,” Cantor said. “His night vision has to be as good, if not better, than ours with our glasses. I say, we light the place up and see what happens.”

  He glanced at the men behind him and knew they were with him. Every last one grinned, their teeth gleaming.

  “I’m going in closer. Fan out to the left and right of me.”

  Cantor lowered himself to the floor of the inner cave and moved stealthily toward the creature, which appeared to be sleeping. He unhooked the first phospher grenade and pulled the pin, holding the lever down with his thumb to keep it from exploding in his hand.

  The nearer he crept, he was better able to discern the form of the creature. Its large, muscled haunches curved into feet with long, sharp talons. Crenellated spikes ran down the center of its back. Its long curved neck ended in a head with a wide jaw and a spiny plate on its forehead. He found the placement of its eyes when they opened and the pupils dilated to black horizontal slits.

  “Oh shit!”

  The creature lunged to its hind legs, stretching above him to its full height, spreading thick-skinned wings. Cantor had found his dragon.

  He tossed the first grenade at its feet and threw himself to the side as the creature blew a burs
t of noxious flame his way. Cantor rolled in the slippery moss to put out the fire that caught his sleeve, and then came to his feet quickly, tipping the latch on his lenses to lose the infrared.

  The phospher-flash burned brightly, illuminating the cave. As Cantor had assumed, the creature was temporarily blinded by the bright light and confused by the sounds made by the rush of many feet as his men surrounded it.

  The dragon roared, a grating hissing sound, and used its long neck to reach out to snap in the direction of the sounds, baring two rows of razor-sharp teeth. His men shouted at it, the sound echoing on the walls, and the dragon flung another ball of fire into the midst of the group, narrowly missing Darak.

  “Hit him with the guns!” Cantor shouted, tossing a second grenade at the creature’s feet.

  The burst and the blaze of light enraged it further and it flapped its wings, lifting off the floor, flying blindly in the direction of the tunnel. Cantor and his men ran after it, shooting laser-guided charges at the fleeing creature.

  One charge, then a second, found their mark and the dragon halted in mid-air, flapping clumsily before falling to the floor in a heap.

  The men approached the creature cautiously, looking for any sign it could still attack. When Cantor reached it, he kicked its scaly hide. The creature didn’t move.

  “Is it still alive?” Cantor asked Ivan who had moved toward its head.

  Ivan looked up. “It’s still respirating. Let’s be quick.”

  Cantor pointed at Akron and two others in the team. “Take a look around. Make sure there’s not more we haven’t found. Darak,” he said, looking around for his friend, finding him on the other side of the creature’s body. “Have your guns ready if it stirs.”

  Cantor knelt beside Ivan to open the creature’s mouth while Ivan shoved a long probe down its throat.

  “We’ll take swabs,” Ivan said, working quickly. “I’d like to figure out how it makes fire.”

  When he removed the probe, he packed away the samples, and then he pulled out a pocketknife. He cut a piece off of one of the spikes on its back then walked to the rear of the creature holding a portable sonograph above the dragon’s abdomen. “Its sexual organs are here,” he said, and laid aside the device to pry at a scaly opening near its tale.