Queen of the Stars

by Lorelei Orion

  Determined, she went to the bureau to find a substitute. In one drawer there was a pale-blue bed sheet. Standing before the full-length mirror, she laid the cloth out across her back and wrapped it around her. She worked one end up from behind her and tied it, on her right shoulder, to the sheet’s other corner. The fold there across the front made a natural décolleté. She pushed the long edge behind her to expose the full swell of her breasts, and adjusted it so that her legs could move freely. The soft material crinkled slightly as she moved to and fro before her reflection, pleased with her creation.

  She peered closer. Her dark-blue eyes had a feline slant and she couldn’t recall them ever possessing that sparkle. Her thick black lashes seemed even longer than before, and her high cheeks were rich with becoming color. She ran her hand through her long golden hair, testing its luster. A soft smile touched her red lips before she nodded and went off to find him.

  At the back garden, she saw him. He was reaching up, picking brown nuts from a tree and dropping them into a basket, his sinews rippling with his litheness. He wore only his short white leggings, the cloth contrasting stunningly against his dark, tanned skin. Catching his profile, and seeing how well it suited him to start a beard, weakness surged through her.

  Unexpectedly he turned, his eyes brightening with appreciation. She smiled demurely, moving toward him.

  “Aphrodite!” he muttered, in awe.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” she apologized. “I just wanted a dress ...”

  “Not at all. It’s beautiful!”

  She blushed under his stare and inspected a nearby plant with undue interest.

  Aphrodite? Did he mean the myth or a woman with that name? “Who is Aphrodite?” she asked a bit sternly, confused why the idea of him with another riled her.

  He chuckled. “Don’t you know? In Greek mythology, she’s the goddess of love and beauty.”

  She smiled as her anger ebbed away. “Oh. I know a few of the legends.”

  Sarra had heard many praises, but she couldn’t recall ever being compared to a goddess. She felt like one—like she ruled this wilderness—like she could do anything!

  “Come,” she said, impulsively taking his hand. “Let’s go explore.”

  He was very eager to be her companion. They walked silently, peacefully through all the woodsy scents and plush sights of the forest.

  Raine was captivated. Her hair fanned out behind her, billowing in the breeze, and her cheeks were flushed softly, her eyes gleaming with her adventurous excitement. In the meadow she bent to gather up a bouquet. He bent, and she watched him curiously as he picked a thin and long stem filled with tiny violet and white flowers. He tied the flexible ends together. She laughed when he placed the wreath on her head.

  “What are you doing?”

  “The goddess needs a crown,” he muttered.

  He moved back to inspect his work, and when satisfied he lie down in the grass, on his side with his elbow bent and palm on his cheek. He plucked a long green blade and chewed on it lazily while he apprized her.

  Sarra widened her eyes innocently. “Perhaps you should tell me more about the real Aphrodite since you seem to know so much.”

  “Ahhhh, Aphrodite, Aphrodite,” he sighed longingly, falling back. “Who can describe the personification of beauty? Such mystery, pureness a man can only dream about.”

  Sarra felt her ire unsettling her again, and wondered why she should since he spoke of an imaginary woman.

  She would challenge his image of feminine perfection.

  “But, can she do this?” She caught his look of surprise as she smoothly straddled him with her knees beside his outer thighs. Slowly, with a saucy pout she bent and ran her tongue across his firm lips, not letting him draw her into a kiss. Gently she tasted him, his bare, manly breast ... his flat waist ... until he could no longer control his breathing. Wantonly she rolled her clothed, full and round softness upon his breast while pressing herself against his desire.

  “Can she do this?” she taunted erotically, gliding her hand on his leggings, over his hard loins until he groaned, a tortured sound.

  All at once she was on her feet. He sat up and followed her with his lusty eyes while she dramatically paced a wide circle around him. She stopped a few steps away and stood akimbo, seductively looking down on him.

  “Can she do this?”

  With the skill of a practiced coquette, she loosened the knot at her shoulder, grasped the dress at the décolleté, and pulled ... and the blueness fluttered away.

  Raine’s jaw dropped. She was like a sculptured work of art, her breasts ripe and full, her waist flat and her blond triangle tempting. His craving took his breath, his gaze feasting on her shapely legs and hips and then chasing a wave of her hair, light like gold dust against her tan skin, until he saw her lovely face. Her sensual eyes were ethereal, enhanced by her crown. Never had he seen such exquisiteness.

  She lifted an eyebrow, saucily. “Or, would she just disappear since she isn’t real at all?”

  Sarra broke into a sprint, shrieking merrily. It took him a while to catch her and they fell, tumbling across the lawns until he was above her, both laughing breathlessly.

  “It’s dangerous to tease, woman,” he chastised, pinning her arms to the ground. “Now you’ll have to pay.”

  She put her arms straight out at her sides, eager for reprimanding.

  While he was discarding his leggings, he saw her fallen wreath and went to retrieve it. He came down to her again, placing it on her brow.

  “She can,” he said huskily. “She’s you. But, isn’t she also the goddess of love? Can she do that?”

  Sarra winced. But, as his lips took hers, she didn’t care that she caressed him with quite a loving touch.

  ***

  The sunset found Sarra on the cabin’s lawn, within Raine’s embrace. Both were silent while they watched the red and amber vibrantly changing until the sky became a rich, dark blue.

  “They’re like twilight,” he considered aloud.

  “What?” she murmured.

  “Your eyes. They’re like the twilight.”

  Sarra blushed, made shy by his praise. She studied the hue above, the unfathomable, deep and glowing sapphire, wondering if that’s what he truly saw in her.

  The light faded as one by one the stars began to shine, giving a glimpse of the universe. Then the constellations came onto the black—Nepenthe, Drayton’s Cave, Cytus. She watched the latter, the one shaped like a distant crescent moon, its three strongest star clusters winking at her.

  “I’ve always wanted to go to Cytus,” she said wistfully.

  “And if you could?” he asked quietly. “What do you expect you’d find there?”

  She moved closer to his warmth.

  “I don’t know. Answers, maybe. Like ... what lives there—who lives there? Are they like we are? Why does their place look like the first lunar phase to us? Could it be they’re a romantic sort, always chasing a dream, a way to make their moon grow full and shine?”

  “Use your infamous imagination, woman. You’ll never know. Cytus is almost a million light years away.”

  “Spoilsport,” she pouted. “Aren’t you even curious?”

  “Always,” he sighed. “But just being alive is enough to keep me guessing.”

  She nodded, understanding. Her mind began wandering off, pondering about all the enigmas, and her own destiny.

  Before, she had always felt that she had lacked something. Strange, but she wasn’t restless now. Excitement, she had wanted ... This was an adventure, being here with him under the Milky Way, exploring the mystery with their eyes. He was adventure, the rush of her senses when he was near, the sparks within her belly—

  If only the universe could pass away and she could be lost here for forever. If he could truly be as he seemed; kindhearted and not savage at all.

  As the moon Eos appeared, white and round as it climbed into sight, she stared at its candescence, startled to actually realize
that she was happy.

  Chapter 13

  Sarra knew one certainty about bliss—the lofty feeling can be as fleeting as a cloud. The only emotion stronger than her happiness was her fear of losing it. She must have had dreams, for when she awoke the next day her head was swirling with questions.

  She eyed Raine’s back, his hair all tousled in his sleep. Who was he? She knew nothing about him—and he was her lover! Needing time for herself, she carefully slid from the bed, hoping to sort out her muddled intellect.

  Sarra couldn’t know that Raine was plagued by his own troubles. When he heard water running into the bath, he rose and filled a glass with ambrosia juice. He opened the cabin’s door and stood there, sipping and frowning, viewing the sun while it played brightly on the pond.

  This marked the sixth dawn at the cabin. Where was Darius? He hoped that harm hadn’t befallen his friend, but still felt confident that he would come when he was able, when the FAS were no longer a threat. But, did he really want him to? No—although Adriel needed this Revolutionary leader—he didn’t want him to arrive, at all.

  He put the empty glass on the table and moved about aimlessly, impatient for her presence, needing a diversion. The past few days he’d been nagged by his uncertainties about the future. Unpleasant images of Lord Gray kept invading his mind. Would she open her thighs as willingly for him? Did she fantasize about the duke when he touched her? He wondered why this rankled him—gnawed at his insides. It was foolish. When the time came, he’d simply return her to the king and be done with her. It wouldn’t be a chore to find another to satisfy him.

  “But, like that one?” he grumbled.

  His worries fled when he saw her, his gaze drinking in the supple sheen of her damp curves. She stopped drying her hair with the towel and bashfully averted her face.

  “How can you still be embarrassed by our nakedness?” he asked, amazed by her inborn modesty.

  She remained silent while he pulled her over to the bed. He kissed her until she became weak and sultry beneath him, making him ache with sweet pleasure.

  After the exhilarating bout, Sarra made up her mind. Clad in his black shirt, she sat at the table, summoning her courage while they ate their noon meal. She mustn’t ask, but she needed answers. Surely there would be no harm in just a few innocent questions? Her curiosity had been suppressed long enough!

  She waited to break their pact until he was nearly finished. “How do I ...” she began. “I don’t even know what to call you.”

  “What?” he asked.

  “Your name ...?” she prompted, never having said it aloud before and not quite being able to bring herself to.

  “Raine.”

  “Raine,” she tried, the word pleasant and easy on her tongue. “Who ... who are you, Raine?”

  “Raine Nicks,” he replied.

  “But that’s an alias, isn’t it?”

  “Could be.”

  Sarra didn’t even bother asking for his real name. “How many times have we made love and I don’t know a thing about you. Where do you come from? How old are you?”

  Raine sighed, guessing where this was leading. “I’m thirty-two.”

  She wasn’t surprised that fourteen years separated them.

  “Are you from Earth?”

  “Why would you think that? I’m Adrielian, like yourself.”

  “But where do you live? Do you have a family? Not a wo—my God, you’re not married, are you?”

  “No. I’ve never found one worth keeping.”

  She wondered why this insult to womankind pleased her very much.

  “Whereabouts were you born? Were you from a big family? Where are your parents?”

  Sarra saw how his expression darkened, like an invisible black cloud had settled on his face. She had hit upon something very troubling and private to him. Taking heed, she didn’t press about his kin. Yet, her inquisitive nature just wouldn’t stop. She had to know!

  “Why did you abduct me?”

  “That’s enough,” he said firmly, making it clear that the interrogation was over.

  “No. Why did you? What’s it all about? What do you hope to gain? I will be queen, someday. Maybe I could help.”

  Brooding angrily, he worked his jaw.

  “Why?” she persisted, gently. “I don’t understand the Revolutionaries or your cause. Do you want riches? Power? Or—”

  “Leave it alone,” he warned in a threatening tune.

  “I can’t!” she cried, springing up to her feet. “Don’t you understand? If you would just tell me what’s going on, maybe I could help! Perhaps I could get my father to pardon you!”

  He laughed harshly—wryly. He rose and trailed behind her erratic pacing. “You don’t know your father very well, do you?”

  “Better than you!” she retorted. “Can’t you see? He’ll kill you!”

  “If he has the chance.”

  She froze. Something in his voice reminded her that captives don’t always survive so that the kidnapper can’t be identified. Even if she was the princess and his lover ... “You ... do plan on returning me to Adriel, don’t you?” she breathed over her shoulder. “You wouldn’t ... hurt ...”

  “Of course not—hurt you? You’ll be freed when the king delivers the ransom.”

  “And what are your demands? What if he can’t deliver?”

  “He most certainly can.”

  Sarra had had enough of his evasiveness. She spun around on a heel. “What?” she spat. “What do you want?”

  His eyes grew colder. “It’s nothing that a naive and pampered little princess would need to know.”

  “Naive and pampered! Is that what you think I am?”

  He bent low in an exaggerated bow.

  Sarra’s temper was beginning to overwhelm her. “That’s the most respect I’ve seen from you. But really, what can I expect from a simple commoner?” she taunted, smiling sweetly.

  “Ah, yes. A commoner,” he said bitterly. “The mighty princess comes down from her castle in the sky to be with a mere mortal. Won’t she be tainted? Where is her sense?”

  “I must be senseless! I made love to you, didn’t I?”

  “You must enjoy being senseless, then. Quite often.”

  “I was innocent and you raped me—forced me into your bed ...”

  “Forced!” he chortled out. “I don’t recall ever having such an eager adventuress. I wonder, though,” he considered derisively. “What will your sexuality—insatiable as it is—what will you do when you’re back home? Taylor Gray would certainly be of little use to you. You’ll probably go back to lounging about in your lofty palace, twiddling your thumbs.”

  Frustration rushed through her like a living thing. “Twiddling my thumbs! Anything’s better than starting a war because of nothing better to do!”

  “You’re blind!” he scoffed. “There are people who die needlessly on our planet—more and more every day! Or don’t you even care? Rebellion is the only relief for the poor souls oppressed by your father’s corrupt kingdom!”

  “My father—corrupt? Is that what you believe? Could it be that you’re out to save Adriel?”

  Something in his expression told her that this was so.

  “You are! Oh! Come save me, Robin Hood!” she cried theatrically and then laughed contemptuously.

  Raine scowled. It infuriated him that even now his desire was roused by her magnificence—her dark-blue eyes that were flashing like storm clouds.

  “No! Adriel was fine until your kind came along!” she raged, stabbing her forefinger on his bare chest for emphasis. “I think you are greedy and arrogant and hateful—”

  He snatched her hand in a crushing grip and she gasped, wrenching it free.

  “You’re a bad seed, just like my father said!”

  “Ummm. Wouldn’t it have been better for all if his seed hadn’t caught in your mother’s womb.”

  “Oooohhh! I’ve had enough of your disrespect! Never have I been treated like this! I am Sarra Anna S
hantay—Her Royal Highness—the Princess Royal of Adriel! On your knees, commoner! Show your respect!”

  “Respect?”

  “Bow low!”

  “Never!”

  “I’ll execute you myself!”

  “Oh, but Your Royal Highness, haven’t you done that every time you’ve spread your thighs on me?”

  Her palm met his cheek with a craaack.

  “Savage!” she shrieked.

  “Royal bitch!”

  Sarra found herself on her back, struggling violently against his massive strength. His long frame imprisoned her against the bed but still she fought the useless battle. She caught glimpses of his furious face, and became limp when aware of the virulent omen in his icy-cold eyes.

  For the first time since her abduction, she was truly terrified of him. He was a barbaric man and she had pushed him too far. His hands could slay her—this very moment, he could ...

  Her pride preferred death to cowardice. She struck at him with renewed vigor.

  “Why?” he growled as he worked to keep her still. “Why all the questions, now? Are you that anxious to get home?”

  “Yes!” she lied at the top of her lungs. “I want to go home!”

  Cursing vehemently, he yanked her out of her shirt and himself out of his leggings. “Are you that lonely for Gray? Is this what you want him to do to you?”

  He pinched the sensitive tips of her breasts until she yelped from the pain.

  “Or maybe you want him to take you like this ...”

  With ruthless hands he pushed her over onto her front and began entering her from the back. Strangled sounds escaped her while she strained to get away. He reluctantly withdrew, but kept her down by pressing his hand domineeringly on her nape.

  Sarra’s chest heaved wildly from her seething. “Taylor—when he learns about all of this he will kill you himself!”

  “Taylor Gray?” he mocked. “Kill me?” He laughed like it was the most amusing thing he’d ever heard.

  “He will!” she hissed, though knew that the duke would be no match for him.

  Raine whisked her around and forced a brutal kiss upon her. She pounded her fists on his back and tried to bite him ... but soon her arms became too weak, her tongue too willing. Her mixed emotions swirled precariously about her head, and he drew away, chuckling scornfully. As he bathed her breasts, his ardent dandling made her defenseless, and she despised her husky groan.