Legend Beyond The Stars

by S. E. GILCHRIST

  Her wetness still coated his fingertips.

  Mmmm. Tarak reined in his raging senses, gathered a fragile hold over his need. He heaved in a deep breath. Thoughtfully, he considered the female lying beneath him. There was fear and defiance sparkling in those beautiful eyes, warring and, if he was not mistaken, rapidly gaining control over her desire.

  It appeared his little slave objected to yielding to him. Perhaps it had been the words he had used? She had been eager enough until he had spoken.

  ”It is a Darkon tradition.” Tarak picked his words with care, deliberately keeping his voice calm and soothing. He noted the curiosity lighting her eyes. There was a slight easing in her tense body.

  Ahhhh. He lowered his head, his lips nibbled along the line of her jaw.

  She trembled. She clasped then unclasped his shoulders. The contact of her fingers against his skin branding his very bones with her mark.

  “What is?” she whispered. She arched her back, as his mouth trailed slowly, oh so slowly down her neck.

  “A Darkon warrior never forces a female. It is against our code of honour,” he murmured huskily as he nuzzled one delicate ear.

  His heart lightened at her quavering. “Oh. Well then. But I am still not your slave.”

  Wisely, Tarak kept his triumph hidden as he once more conquered her sweet mouth. She touched his arms tentatively. Her trembling body softened against his as she returned his kiss.

  She was his.

  Possession flooded his senses. His control fled. The entire Elite Forces could have been hammering at his compartment door, and he would not have been aware. He shed his remaining clothing quickly, his mouth never leaving hers, his tongue devouring her sweetness. In his eagerness his touch became rougher, more demanding although still careful never to hurt or bruise. She belonged to him and as such was his to protect.

  Tarak was disturbingly aware of every shift, every touch of her slight body as she slid with sensuous movements against him. He rubbed his engorged shaft against her soft mound, his hardness seeking her entrance and she moaned. He tugged again fruitlessly at her clothing.

  “Let me.” She gasped, her fingers brushing against his as they both fumbled with the fastenings. Finally it gave way and Tarak pulled the garment from her legs. He tossed it over his shoulder. He groaned with frustration when he saw the scrap of material which remained covering his goal.

  An infectious chuckle escaped her lips.

  He grinned at her bright face and her lashes fluttered with surprise. He slipped his hands around the small of her back, then inside the silky material and rubbed her rounded buttocks. Sweat beaded his brow. With a sudden harsh oath, he grabbed the cloth, pushing it down. His heated gaze following its progress.

  He cupped her feet then slid his large hands up the inside of her legs to rest near her nest of red brown curls. Gently he eased her legs apart and stared at his goal. Exultation filled him and he shuddered at the depth of the emotion. He closed his eyes against the rush of urgency which swept through him, fighting for control. It had been so long and his female was so small. He could not hurt her.

  “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

  Tarak cradled her face with one hand. Her eyes were large and a measure of fear still lingered. Moving with exquisite slowness he entered her, his muscles shaking under the strain, all his senses screamed for release. His cock throbbed with long suppressed desire.

  He would not take her like a primitive beast!

  A Darkon warrior was always in control. His gaze holding hers, he thrust gently. He braced his arms either side of his slave, taking his weight. He grimaced as he tried again.

  By the stars of Darkos she was so small.

  He would die if he could not appease this inferno raging through his veins.

  Alana sighed. Those midnight eyes of his burned into hers with such intensity she wondered she didn’t erupt into flames. They would never finish at this rate. She would die if she didn’t reach fulfilment now.

  She gripped his bulging biceps. With a cheeky grin she wound her legs around his hips and thrust strongly upwards. A moan left her parted lips at the pleasure rippling through her. Gratified at his answering shudder.

  “I won’t break,” Alana whispered into his ear.

  His growl sent goosebumps rising on her exposed skin, and her stomach muscles quivered with spasms of delight. It was if her words shattered the chains of his resolve. He thrust vigorously, over and over. Harder and harder. His eyes never left hers. A sob of pure bliss burst from her throat, as her entire body disintegrated into an explosion of such intense rapture it shook her to her core. She saw black with streaks of dazzling white. Fire radiated before her blind eyes.

  With a triumphant roar he flung back his head, driving into her faster and faster causing her body to ripple and convulse again. He continued to pound his cock into her until his hot seed gushed into the very depths of her being.

  Her muscles clenched, soaked up every drop.

  At last replete, he lowered his head, covered her trembling mouth with his, to kiss her with dominant thoroughness. He rolled to his side, propped himself up on one elbow and surveyed her through heavy lidded eyes.

  Her cheeks flamed at his satisfied expression. He gave the appearance of a starving beggar who, having satisfied his appetite with the main course, was eyeing off the dessert.

  Replete, lethargy made her unwilling to move her hot, sticky body. Now he no longer touched her, a myriad of unsettling emotions swept over her. She couldn’t believe she had behaved so out of character.

  With a total stranger.

  Worse—this was not just any stranger. He was an alien. Tears of weakness burned her eyes. What on earth was I thinking? Chills prickled her skin. She forced her leaden limbs to move and scrabbled for the blanket seeking to hide herself from his steady gaze. She pushed aside the heavy leg trapping her to the bed.

  When he attempted to assist her, she slapped his touch away, keeping her face averted. The blanket clutched to her chest, she sat up and swung her legs over the side, her bare feet seeking the floor.

  A low rumble of irritation emerged from his throat. Alana was furious with the instant response quivering through her traitorous body.

  “Where are you going?” he demanded in a rough arrogant voice.

  “Back to my room.” She avoided his eyes.

  “These are your quarters. You are my slave, Alana, and will reside with me.” With one fluid movement he sat upright, then reached out and grasped her shoulders pulling her around to face him.

  Alana glared at him. “I am no man’s slave. Read my lips!” she hissed, then immediately wished she hadn’t when his eyes dropped to gaze at her mouth in momentary confusion. She blushed at his intense, fervent expression and watched as he moistened his lips. He leaned forward and Alana was horrified to find herself leaning forward also in unison as if magnetised.

  What the …?

  She jerked back.

  He scowled.

  Her chin jutted.

  “You will remain here. I have claimed you.”

  “Excuse me! There was no claiming done anywhere.” Alana fought to keep her voice cool. She did her best to ignore the tension radiating from him, although her insides quivered and churned. Poised, he looked ready to pounce if she made one wrong move. A heavy frown marred his brow, his sharp eyes far too penetrating. All she knew was she had to get away from him.

  Now. Before she disgraced herself and bawled out her confusion. Crawled back into his arms for comfort. Don’t be such a fool. It was just sex, that’s all. He’s not looking for anything else. She squared her shoulders and held her head high under his thoughtful gaze.

  Tarak deliberately relaxed his tensed shoulders and with deceptive casualness lounged against the wall. He linked his hands behind his head.

  “Very well. You may leave,” he drawled, noting with satisfaction the flush of annoyance which burned across her cheeks, bringing colour back into her pale face. That was bett
er. For a moment there he had been horrified his slave was going to start leaking from her eyes again. He didn’t know why, but the thought she was hurting caused his gut to turn over.

  “When I decide to mate again, you will be ordered here to my quarters.” He resisted the urge to laugh at her outraged expression. Her hands curled into fists, the light of battle blazing in her eyes. He knew she itched to smack his face. To stir the pot, he smirked instead at his groin. “That will be very soon.”

  “Ooooh!” Alana clamped the blanket around her and struggled to her feet. She stumbled, not noticing his instinctive reaction as he reached out to steady her. Twisting away, she kicked at the blanket which was dragging on the floor. She retrieved her clothes, her body stiff with haughty pride.

  Tarak watched with interest, his eyes never leaving her as she huffed and stomped around the room. Truly his slave was a curious creature, one which stirred his blood into conflagration with astonishing speed.

  His slave. His Alana.

  He recalled her cheeky grin, the way her eyes had sparkled at him, her strong legs wrapped around his hips, the delight and surprise which had stolen over her face when she had climaxed in his arms. His to go to her and toss her back onto her back thundered through him. She could easily be imprisoned in his quarters. Manacle her to his bed perhaps, he mused.

  Fierce desire shuddered through him and he swallowed his moan. He concealed his clenched fists, kept his expression neutral, when she threw a suspicious glance at him. He noticed how she kept her gaze fixed on his face, not daring to look lower.

  “Trust me, you can order as much as you like but there will not be a repeat. So I hope you made the most of it,” she said in a muffled voice. Finally giving up trying to dress and keep herself shielded from his gaze, she threw the blanket on the ground in frustration, and jerked her top over her head.

  Tensely he watched as she wriggled into those curious pants with its many pockets.

  “You will do as I command.”

  Alana snorted. She bent over. Tarak’s eyes fastened onto her small tight buttocks. His balls tightened and swelled. His cock throbbed into life. Sweat prickled above his upper lip. His gut clenched. Somehow the good hunter that he was, he stayed prone. His mouth dry, he watched her grab the blanket.

  She rolled it into a ball.

  She threw it at his head.

  He dodged it easily. Despite his acute discomfort, laughter lightened his soul.

  “In your dreams!”

  “And you will be. In my dreams. As I will be in yours.” He smiled slowly at the hot colour which again suffused her face. He stood, his smile broadening into a grin as she hurriedly averted her eyes. She took a nervous step backwards. Tarak reached for his pants and pulled them on with some difficulty over his rigid, hungry cock. He adjusted his crotch and with stern discipline directed his thoughts away from his rioting fantasies.

  “I will see you safely to the women’s quarters. Come.” He held out his hand. When she ignored him and with her stubborn chin held high, brushed past him to wait near the entrance, his amusement fled.

  He punched in his code. The doorway slid open. He waved her through. She marched ahead of him, keeping her gaze strictly ahead, her back straight and her chin held high.

  Tarak strolled behind, idly admiring her hair which glowed red then gold as they passed under the dimmed lights which illuminated the corridor. Her hair had been so soft and silky sliding through his callused fingers. His irritation dissipated.

  Perhaps he should postpone his mission of delivering the females up to Isla. One question had been answered, but many more remained to be solved. Some of which had only just occurred to him. He gazed at the bottom just out of his reach and ached anew for appeasement. The realisation he was actually looking forward to the days ahead with avid anticipation startled him. Yes, his plans could definitely be postponed.

  Alana halted outside the entrance to the women’s quarters. Her fingers drummed a nervous message on the metal door. His warm breath on her bare neck ruffled her hair, his presence so temptingly close behind her. She was powerless to resist, when he clasped her shoulders and turned her to face him.

  Words of protest scattered as she lifted her eyes to his impenetrable gaze. She trembled at its latent heat and power. He lowered his head. Mindlessly she rose on tiptoe. He nuzzled her soft skin then took possession of her lips in a kiss which stole her breath. Reduced her to a quivering mass of confusion. She wrapped her arms about his neck. Her mouth opened and she responded with a fierceness that brought a sob to her throat. His grip tightened around her shaking body before he smoothed a long slow path intimately down her back leaving tingling nerves in their wake.

  Alana whispered a protest when he eased his body away. He scattered kisses over her upturned face then released her. He stepped back. She was mortified to realise her arms still encircled his neck. Hurriedly she dropped her arms to hug her waist.

  His breath came heavy and deep. Those hooded eyes she just knew watched her every response. His massive chest rose and fell, the dim lights played over his tense features, his expression in shadow. His gentle touch soothed her hair from her face, his fingers lingering before he tilted her chin.

  ”My quarters are waiting.” His voice rumbled over her senses and her stomach dropped away.

  From somewhere Alana found the strength to shake her head in refusal. The wistful regret in his eyes tugged at her heartstrings. She fumbled for the door. She had to escape.

  Now.

  “Sleep well, my slave Alana.”

  Alana closed the door, her fisted hands rested on the cold surface. Pain slashed behind her eyes. She was tired. That was all. Tired and so very lonely.

  She would not make the same mistake again.

  * * *

  Chapter Six

  Alana woke heavy eyed and with throbbing temples to find herself alone in the dimly lit sleeping quarters. With dragging steps, she availed herself of the cleansing tube—the glorious feeling of hot water pulsing down her back now a distant, wistful memory. The cleansing tube failed to make her feel truly clean.

  Especially considering what she had been doing a few hours ago.

  She yelled, thumped the sides of the tube with fisted hands before slumping against the tube. Really, she only had herself to blame.

  The tube hummed and the programme changed to hot dry air for the drying cycle. She scrubbed wearily at her face.

  It had been so long since she had lain in a man’s arms. Too long. Wary after her disastrous relationship with Scott, her defensive attitude had kept any interested men at bay. The result had been a life lived for her career, her heart reserved only for her family. Then in a matter of seconds, this alien man had stormed her hard-won barriers and opened the floodgates of her passionate nature. It was confusing, frightening, and the most exhilarating feeling she had ever experienced.

  I can’t let it happen again.

  For someone who prided herself on self-control and discipline, she found it hard to forgive herself for her actions. Given her role as leader of this band of lost and overwhelmed women, she had to portray herself as someone rational, composed and confident. And not someone who jumped into bed with the first interested man, totally ignoring all thoughts of their safety.

  What if she had caught some weird sexual disease? She moaned as she considered the implications and squeezed her eyes shut making a mental note to ask some probing and discrete enquiries from Norman at the first opportunity.

  She had yet to find out anything about this research business. Not that the Commander had actually made any reference to such a thing!

  No, here was another man with a secret agenda.

  She sighed.

  It seemed her dealings with Scott had taught her nothing. A bittersweet ache lanced her heart. She had not been the only one to lose. The baby she had carried had proved to be stillborn after a difficult labour. Even after all these years there were times when she imagined the feel of her baby’s tiny
body cradled in her arms, the cool softness of her daughter’s skin, the feathery wisps of blonde hair that tickled as Alana had pressed her lips on her in one tender kiss. The raw guttural denial tore at her insides with a pain that still gripped with relentless force. But though she had lost her child, she had relished those few moments of motherhood. Then after long months spent wandering dazed and grief-stricken through her home, one day she had discovered her husband had used her passwords to steal the formula for a new prototype of engine her stepfather intended to sell to the government.

  Alana forced the past back where it belonged. She had no time for the daydreams of ‘what ifs’ of a naive twenty-year-old who believed in happy ever afters.

  After the discovery of Scott’s duplicity, she had made two vows: treat men with the callous indifference she had been shown, and never fall pregnant again.

  Alana cradled her empty womb protectively. The regulatory implant device issued to all active service women sure made certain she’d never experience that miracle again. Not that she wanted to, of course.

  She hadn’t been entirely alone. Her mother had been a tower of strength during those dark months, giving affection unconditionally for the first time in years, nagging Alana into facing each day, forcing her to continue her studies, attain her entrance to military college. The twins with their endless energy had been determined to include their older half-sister in their ploys. Slowly her enthusiasm for life had been rekindled.

  Her stepfather Colin had been such a brick, especially since Alana had always treated him with a wary reserve, refusing to acknowledge him as part of her family. He had accepted this but had never failed to treat her in return with gentle consideration.

  Alana drew in a deep shaky breath as she remembered how Colin had used his resources as one of the most successful retail businessmen in the country which used to be called Australia, to ensure Scott disappeared out of Alana’s life. Had she ever really thanked him? Told him how grateful she was for his support? Thanked any of her family?