by Dara Joy
“Lorgin…” Deana choked out, her fingers clenching in the strands of his hair.
He did not think a verbal response was necessary.
Purposefully, Lorgin spanned her waist with his hands, smoothly sliding her pants down her legs. He tossed them in the same corner as her tunic. Briefly, his adept fingers rubbed the soft skin of her calves, coaxing her pulsepoints to quiver under his touch. He got up to quickly to shed his own pants, standing at the foot of the bed for a moment to gaze down the naked length of her. Despite her resolve not to cave in under that intense sexual regard, Deana found herself blushing.
“You’re making me feel shy.”
“There is no need of this.”
But it was all she could do not to cover herself as his burning gaze traced every line of her body. Did she ever really think this man was indifferent to her? Last night, in the pool…How naive could she have been? Her eyes dropped to his manhood. It was fully erect, large and swollen with passion.
He was enormous. How could he…It would never…
Easily reading her thoughts, he smiled as he said confidently, “It will.”
Her face flamed at her transparency, but Lorgin did not hesitate. Firmly grabbing an ankle in each of his hands, he spread her legs apart, placing a knee up on the bed. The strands of his hair lightly brushed against her calf as he leaned over her.
“Be assured, zira You will know me like yourself, and I, you.” Then his teeth grazed the inner skin of her lower leg—a message of intent and promise. Deana couldn’t help but moan out loud.
Holding her ankles firm, Lorgin worked his way slowly up her inner leg, employing his tongue, lips, and teeth in a combination of relentless sensuality. He kissed. He lathed. He bit. Using a timing known only to him, he would pause intermittently. Deana’s whole body was shuddering both from his touch, and from his lack of it.
Lorgin was not unaffected himself. His pulse rate had increased, he was finding it more and more difficult to concentrate, and his blood fairly sizzled. When he reached her upper thigh, he raised his head to regard Deana in a haze of heat. He observed her erratic breathing, her glazed eyes, her shivers of pleasure. He dropped his gaze to the juncture of her thighs. The glistening red curls had originally been his destination. He noted her present state and doubted she would be able to take that experience on top of everything else facing her. Not now, but definitely later…
He moved up and covered her mouth with his own.
At the sweet taste of his lips, Deana plunged her hands into his hair, running her fingers through the long, silky length. His overwhelming potency almost robbed her of the strength to move. She had never felt like this before, curiously drained yet thrumming with energy. He bit her neck sharply, then lapped at the spot to soothe it, then sizzled it again as he sent tiny currents to her. Then, in exquisite contrast, he blew on it. Deana reared off the bed.
“Please, please, Lorgin, I can’t take much more.”
This he could believe. He did not think he could take much more either. Her responses were innocently sweet. Again it occurred to him that she was very inexperienced. This was an unfamiliar concept to him, having been raised in a world where a certain amount of sexual freedom was a way of life.
Gently, he inserted his middle finger in her. Her velvet slickness surrounded him with a little caress. She was incredibly small and tight. He knew now that she wasn’t completely untouched; but she was so small…He wondered if somehow he was wrong about his supposition.
He lifted his mouth from hers. “You have been with a man before?”
Her face flamed. Did he think she was a babe in the woods, totally inexperienced? “Of course I have! Lots of times!”
Lorgin raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. So much for the world-weary act. She turned away from him. “Once. It wasn’t…”
He drew her face back to his. “It is all right, Adeeann. This will be.”
Her revelation did not surprise him. What surprised him was his own response to it. He was grateful for her lack of sophistication. He could always lead them where he wanted them to go, but strangely, the thought of another man touching her made his blood boil. After tonight they would only know the touch of each other. Tonight—tonight he had concerns, despite what he had told her, that his great size would hurt her. The Transference alone would be more than enough for her to take without added discomfort.
There was no help for it.
He nudged her opening with the tip of his erection, carefully inserting himself a few inches, only to withdraw and repeat the act several times, each time entering her a little more. In this manner, he attempted to widen the narrow passage as gently as possible for his ultimate penetration.
Deana felt a hard bluntness throbbing between her legs. It pushed against her, creating an intense pressure. Lorgin thrust into her slightly. He withdrew. He bore into her again. He withdrew. His intermittent thrusts were driving her over the edge. She was in no mood for a game of parry and thrust. She wanted all of him.
“You’re tormenting me,” she cried.
“No. You are too tight.” His ragged reply was lost in a cry as she met his next thrust with an upward movement of her hips.
So be it. Lorgin filled her. And filled her. And filled her.
There was acute discomfort as her skin stretched taut to accommodate him. Damn, but it stung! A tear inadvertently slipped from her eye.
Lorgin, who was trying his best to remain motionless while deeply embedded in her, caught the tear with the tip of his finger. Smoothing back her hair, he whispered, “Why did you not wait?”
Her eyes locked with his. “I couldn’t.” Lorgin groaned. Deana felt him flex deep inside her.
“Forgive me, Little Fire, but I can wait no longer either.”
He began to move in her. What had been discomfort quickly turned into burning pleasure. This was something she had never experienced in her brief sexual past. Again, he followed his own timing, his controlled stroking actions driving her crazy.
Wrapping her legs around his waist, she brought him as close to her as she physically could. Sensing her need, he slowly ground his hips from side to side, while imprisoning her with his mouth and hands.
“My beautiful gharta…”
He tasted her with unbridled passion, nearly sending her over the edge. Then his stroking increased as he held her virtually motionless beneath him. His powerful, steady thrusts, combined with his relentless kisses drove her almost completely mad.
He was sending her sparks of current now, one wave following another. Timed to his strokes. Not timed to his strokes. It was way, way too much. She shouted into his mouth as her first orgasm hit her in powerful ripples, her waves combining with his waves…
Lorgin felt the coming close upon him. His whole body was humming with his power. It flowed and skipped through his veins, amassing, building. Breathing raggedly, with hands that trembled he grabbed Deana’s face, his voice amazingly strong, considering his state; he uttered the Aviaran ritualistic words of the Transference.
“Be apart from me no more, forever.”
Deana screamed as his power hit her full force. It flowed into her in a never-ending torrent of strength.
Just before she passed out, Lorgin was pleased to note that in the shock and pleasure-pain of the Transference, she had not turned away from him. No, she had clutched him yet closer.
Yaniff sat up late in his bedchamber, reading an ancient tome of wizardry. Abruptly, he stopped his perusal of the page to look at Bojo. He had felt a slight shift of power on the Fourth Plane. The Transference had taken place. Smiling, he returned to his reading.
Chapter Eight
“Absolutely fantastic!” Deana’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze falling dreamily onto the passionate face of her lover.
Still entwined with her, Lorgin looked down at her with eyes heavy lidded from the passion they had just shared.
Intermittent sparks still flashed lazily in his eyes. He reminded Deana of a fine rac
ing engine, temporarily in idle. She had the silly idea that if she gave him a green light, he could easily boost the r.p.m. and go into overdrive. She giggled.
He gave her a slow, sated smile. His hands were still clasped around her head, his fingers locked in her hair. He dipped his head, lightly brushing his lips across hers several times, his hair tickling her chest with each movement he made.
“What are you laughing about, zira?” His voice was a soft caress against her lips. “You think my lovemaking humorous?” She could feel his smile against her mouth. And something else between her legs. Growing.
Deana’s eyes widened. “Lorgin, you can’t!”
His eyes crinkled at the corners in amusement. “Apparently, I can.”
Nevertheless, she didn’t think she could. What they had just had was wonderful, intense, overwhelming, and very frightening. Deana didn’t know if she wanted to experience his brand of lovemaking again. Well, at least not for a while.
“L-Lorgin, I-I don’t think I can do that again.”
His look was somewhat indulgent and damned sexy. “Do not worry, Adeeann. I am sure I can repeat my performance to your satisfaction.”
She flushed. “No! I-I mean I can’t…I don’t…I’m not…”
He breathed softly, warmly, in her ear, whispering low. “You can. You will. You are…”
He nuzzled her neck with his open mouth, letting his tongue flick lazily across her skin. Not in any hurry. It was obvious he was just enjoying the taste of her.
Deana froze, knowing very well where he was leading. She sucked in her breath as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. He acknowledged her reaction with a tiny scrape of his teeth before resuming his casual meandering.
“Lorgin?”
“Yes?” His voice was muffled and languorous.
“I’m afraid.”
He stopped instantly, rising to meet her eyes. His expression one of concern, he smoothed her hair away from her face. “Of what?” His quiet voice echoed a soft note in the room.
Unable to meet his eyes, she turned away. He brought her focus back to him by gently cupping her chin. “Of what?” he repeated softly.
She had to tell him. Unfortunately this type of thing required a great deal of tact. Something she was not well known for. “Um—it was…great, but…I mean…”
His eyebrows lowered ominously. She obviously wasn’t handling this with the proper finesse. “But what?” His voice was stony.
Squirming beneath him in embarrassment, she blurted out, “It was uncomfortable, all right?”
A curious expression came into his eyes. “All of it?”
Avoiding his gaze, her hand reached over and idly twirled a lock of his hair. “N-no, just the last part.”
If Deana had been looking at him, she would have noted the light of comprehension dawning on him, as well as a brief flash of relief. “You mean the Transference.”
She looked up at him with a puzzled expression. “The transference? You mean when you—well, when you finished…” She could feel her cheeks flaming.
He ran his thumb across her flushed cheek, smiling gently. “No, that is not what I mean.” He went on to explain. “The Transference occurs only once, the first time an oath couple join.”
“Oh.” She thought about that for a moment. “Then the…discomfort I felt won’t happen again?”
He threaded his fingers through her hair, then lightly kissed her forehead. “Only pleasure from now on, Little Fire.”
Now that the problem was cleared, Lorgin thought it only proper to prove his words. He lowered his mouth to hers. She surprised him by placing her hands against his chest to stop him.
“What does it do?” Her question was cautious and leery.
A little dimple popped up in his left cheek. “What does it do?” His eyes were glinting with suppressed amusement. “Has no one taught you?”
Her expression of total puzzlement was answer enough. He frowned and looked away. Did they not teach their women anything on the Disney World? He remembered her sweet naivete during his lovemaking, answering his own question. What a provincial planet!
He sighed. Apparently he would have to teach her this as well. He had never heard of a warrior being called upon for this task. It was…a little embarrassing. Would that the Astral Alliance appreciate all that he endured for their cause!
He swallowed, clearing his throat. “When a couple joins, they do what we just did.”
“Yes?”
She still appeared perplexed. Lorgin swallowed again and bravely forged ahead. “A Transference occurs during the…the culmination of the act.”
“Always?”
“No, only if it is a true union.”
“I don’t understand.”
He was afraid of that. “During the Transference, the man gives his power to his mate.”
She gasped. “All of it?”
Lorgin couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. He knew he should not make light of her ignorance, but her bewildered look was his undoing. Wiping a tear from his eye, he knew that for the rest of his life, he would never forget this moment. Gazing down at his unique zira, he felt his heart swell.
Still grinning, he answered her. “No, not all, just some.”
She furrowed her eyebrows, not having a clue as to what he found so humorous. “But why?”
His light eyes veiled. “Thus it is a Transference. She will return it to him when the time is right.”
“Then they are not joined anymore, like a divorce?”
“What is a divorce?”
Deana explained. He slashed his hand through the air. “No! Nothing like a divorce. A joining is forever.”
Deana shook her head. It was as clear as mud. She still wasn’t getting it. “I still don’t understand.”
Lorgin smiled secretly. “You will.”
Deana peeked up at him through her eyelashes. Was she in over her head? What was all this mumbo-jumbo about anyway? None of it applied to her, in any case, simply because she was not of these worlds. Surely Lorgin knew she wouldn’t be bound by customs not of her choosing. She would have to make him see that.
Something else disturbed her. When he talked about them together, it was almost as if he had known it would happen—that it was a foregone conclusion. His words did not sound like vanity talking. Rather, it sounded as if he were following some type of alien ritual she knew nothing about.
Suddenly she remembered him saying that he couldn’t leave her world. But when she had questioned him about it back in the first cavern, she recalled him saying something about her misinterpreting his words. Since he definitely did know how to get back to his worlds—her being here was the very proof of it—he must have meant something else. But what? She tried to recall his exact words.
“I do not like this expression on your face.” His words brought her out of her reverie.
“Hmm? Why not?”
He chucked her chin with his finger. “Because this is the face you wear when you are about to make me angry.”
She pushed his hand away. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Then she remembered! He said he could not leave, but then he must have decided that he could leave. Which meant that whatever reason had prevented him from leaving was no longer valid. So, what was it? He brought you back here, you dolt! Personal or business?
These thoughts were making her very uncomfortable. Up to now, she had just assumed that he had brought her here as a visitor, sort of a recompense for her hospitality. All of his other blather about joining and oaths, she shrugged as a communications barrier. Alien lingo for a desire to tussle between the sheets. But what if it wasn’t? What if…
“Lorgin, why did you come to my world? I know you said it was a mistake, but—”
He shook his head. “Not a mistake, Adeeann. Hardly a mistake. Unexpected, perhaps.” His eyes fell to the Shimalee around her neck. Now was the time to tell her; this he knew. He pointed to her necklace.
“Know you not what this is?”
&
nbsp; “No, I do not. I mean, I don’t.”
“This brought me to you.” He fingered the heavy stone. Deana felt a pleasing hum vibrate through her. “It is called the Shimalee.”
Shimalee! He had mentioned it to her before, but she had no idea what he was talking about. “How could this necklace bring you to me?”
“It is a divining stone—an amplifier. They sing to very few. Those that hear its voice can bend space and time. They say that each stone of every Shimalee matches exactly, each crystal aligns to a perfect atunement. Flawless beauty. To hear the voice of the stone is to know the sublimeness of perfection. They are the link to all existence.” Lorgin’s voice reflected the reverence and awe he felt.
This junk-shop find? She wisely kept that thought to herself, saying instead, “Where did it come from?”
“No one knows. There were twelve originally in existence. It is said that countless millennia ago, nine of the Shimalees linked throughout space and time, forming a complex matrix in the fabric of the continuum. We call this matrix the tunnels. You experienced the tunnels when I brought you here.”
“How did it come to the hotel room?”
“Some mystics have the ability to call the tunnels to them.”
“You have this ability?”
“Yes, but you must understand that I can only do this under certain circumstances. In our worlds, the entrances to the tunnels are largely at fixed points. Those that can call the tunnels have the ability to bring forth the opening to the passage.”
“You said nine of the Shimalees—what happened to the other three?”
“Up to a thousand years ago, the remaining Shimalees were under the protection of the Guild. They were not happy about the entrustment. The Old Ones worried constantly about the grave consequences should a stone fall into the wrong hands, for its power is limitless. So great was their concern, it overshadowed everything they did, until they felt they were ineffective in their work. It was then they decided it was best to ‘lose’ them in the tunnels forever.”
