Hero

by Cheryl Brooks

  Trag grinned at the big Darconian. "Thanks, Hartak. You're a real pal."

  "Aw, go on," Hartak said with a wave of his huge hand. "Just have a good time and try not to think about me standing out here in torment."

  "Ha!" said Trag. "But that reminds me." Tapping his comstone he said, "Hey, Leroy. Where are you?"

  "In my bed," Lerotan replied. "Where are you?"

  "Not coming home tonight," Trag said cheerfully. "Don't bother to wait up."

  "Wasn't planning on it," Lerotan said. "So, what's up with you and Micayla? I thought you hated each other."

  Trag was in no mood to explain. "We'll talk about it later." With another tap, he cut the link and proceeded to carry Micayla into The Shrine.

  The light from two of Darconia's three moons shone brightly, lighting his path, though Trag could have found his way blindfolded. How many times had he dreamed of making love with a woman out here beneath the stars? He had no idea, but there had been countless nights spent alone except for the other slaves slumbering nearby. Too many. Trag had never spent a whole night alone with a woman in his life.

  Hartak had outdone himself. Near the sheltered part of the portico, there was a table set with large carafes of both water and wine, a tray piled high with fresh fruit, and a stack of scrail cloths. Next to the table was a bed--and not one of the smaller types usually provided for humans and similar species when they visited. No, this one was big enough for an adult Darconian. The mattress was firm, the sheets were soft, Micayla was in his arms, and suddenly, Trag didn't care if it was only chemistry between them. This would still be a night to remember.

  He laid her gently on the bed and tossed their clothes onto a nearby chair. They were torn in a few places, but he had an idea they wouldn't be wearing them again anyway. He'd always felt that the Darconians had the right idea when it came to their style of dress, and the way Micayla's skin shone in the moonlight confirmed it. Her hair caught the moonbeams and sparkled as though filled with gems. What had he been thinking when he resolved to resist her? He was an idiot and he knew it. When she'd hissed at him, it had set him off in a way that was so unique he should have seen it for what it was.

  Trag took a moment to wipe himself clean with a scrail cloth before pouring two glasses of wine and placing one in Micayla's hand. From his own glass, he savored the sweet, potent wine, the flavor bringing back memories of the times he'd spent with Queen Scalia drinking wine and talking for half the night. He missed her presence in the palace, but less so when he recalled that if she was still alive and the reigning queen, he would be her slave and Micayla probably wouldn't be there at all.

  His expression must have shown something of what he was feeling, for he looked up to find Micayla studying him curiously. "What's wrong?"

  "Nothing," he replied. "Just thinking about how different things are now."

  "From when you were a slave?"

  "Yeah. Ty had all the luck back then--he had Kyra, and I--"

  "Trag," she said gently. "Try not to think about it, okay?"

  "It's hard not to," he said. "I wanted her so badly. I used to lie out here and think about him being with her. It was--"

  "Torment?"

  Trag nodded. Hartak's word described the feeling quite well. "Like you wouldn't believe."

  Micayla set down her wineglass and held out her hand. "It won't be torment this time."

  Trag closed his eyes, biting his lip. No, it wouldn't be torment--anything but that. Taking her hand, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. "My beautiful Mick," he murmured. "I'm sure you could make me forget the worst times of my life."

  "I'll do my best," she promised. Smiling, she added, "Hey, what's with you? We were having such fun and then you went and got all serious on me."

  "Everybody gets serious sometimes," he said defensively. "I'm no different. Not often, maybe, but sometimes."

  She nodded as though she understood. "Come to bed, Trag. If nothing else, you could use some sleep." Pulling a sheet up over herself, she added, "I had no idea it would be so chilly out here at night."

  "I loved it," Trag said. "It gets so hot during the day, and then I'd go to sleep out here, finally cooling off enough to need a blanket and then I'd--"

  "What?"

  "Wish I had a nice, warm woman to curl up with."

  "Well, you've got one now, haven't you?"

  "Yes, I do," he said as he climbed in beside her. It felt very natural to do so, but at the same time it was unusual for him to be with a woman who wasn't crawling all over him, demanding that he mate with her. This was completely different. It wasn't demanding, it was more... relaxing.

  Micayla lay on her side, her head propped up on her hand. "Back home on Earth it gets cold in the winter, but there's just something about being snug and warm by a roaring fire while it's snowing outside."

  Trag shook his head. "Not sure I'd care for snow."

  Micayla stared at him, her mouth agape. "You mean you've never even seen snow?"

  "Nope," Trag replied. "Never have and hope I never do."

  "You should see it at least once in your life. It's beautiful." Smiling wickedly, she added, "Plus, it makes great weather for curling up with a nice, warm woman."

  "I suppose so--though that's the kind of thing I don't mind doing even when it's hot."

  "I've noticed." Micayla threaded her fingers through a lock of his hair, teasing it gently. "Can't say the same for myself."

  "Nope, can't see you curled up with a woman either."

  "You know what I mean," she deadpanned. "This is a first for me. Normally I have very little desire to be this close to any man--and at one point I thought that included you."

  Trag pulled her close for a gentle kiss. Her lips were warm and inviting, not hissing or biting, just... sweet. "I'm glad you changed your mind."

  "Me too."

  Her scent was delicate and pleasing as Micayla kissed him back--not urgent or seductive. Even so, it wove a spell around him, like a net that captured and drew him in, binding him to her.

  As Trag deepened the kiss, images swirled through his mind--green trees, open fields, the blush of ripening fruit, and sparkling water flowing over stones in a creek bed. Blue skies, rainbows, and clouds. The peaceful glow of a setting sun and the tranquil twilight that followed. The laughing faces of children at play. Trag wrapped his arms tighter around Micayla as the images gave way to other sensations. The heady fragrance of flowers in bloom, the smell of rich, damp earth, the sound of Micayla's sweet laughter, the scent of her arousal, and the aroma of fresh strawberries...

  He began purring without conscious effort and she eased onto her back, taking him with her. Trag's tongue slid past her lips, delving into her mouth as though seeking the source of the flood of imagery in his head. Trag knew the moment her scent began to alter. The change was subtle, but its effect was profound. Heat flooded his groin and his purring increased in volume as it deepened in timbre.

  Micayla's hands were in his hair, running down his back and shoulders. He felt her touch on his face, her welcoming gesture as her arms and legs enfolded him in her soft warmth. As he penetrated the source of the heat, he sighed, purring loudly as he began a slow dance inside her. Breaking the kiss, he speared his fingers through her hair as his eyes swept over her face. The soft glow of her eyes captured his gaze and held it firmly; he couldn't have looked away even if he'd wanted to.

  Her eyes reflected the pulsations of joy that accompanied her sighs of pleasure as he used his body to convey the depth of his feelings. Though she held him in thrall, he didn't care; he welcomed his imprisonment if it meant being able to drink in the sight of her eyes forever. Freedom was highly overrated. He longed to be a slave again. Her slave forever, giving her joy for as long as he lived.

  Her soft cries heightened his own feelings of ecstasy and sent him on a steady upward climb. When he reached the peak at last, he felt more than his seed leave his body. Something else went with it, something he could never take back. A part of
him belonged to her now, though he couldn't have said what it was.

  Trag watched as Micayla's eyes became suffused with joy, and with that image firmly imprinted upon his soul, he slept.

  ***

  Micayla woke with the dawn to find Trag still sprawled across her, his head pillowed on her stomach and his hair blanketing her chest. She vaguely remembered having pulled what she thought was a sheet up over her during the night, but it must have been his hair instead. As his thick curls stirred in the morning breeze, she slid her arms beneath them, cherishing their warmth.

  Gazing up at Trag beneath the moon and stars had been an experience unlike any she had ever known. The sparkling sky and his glowing eyes were mesmerizing, filling her with a deep contentment. She had lain awake for some time after Trag fell asleep, listening to the sounds of the desert as the night birds swooped through the field of stars above her head. She'd slept outdoors before, and sometimes under an open sky, but that night, she felt like part of the cosmos for the very first time.

  No longer was she the lone alien being of unknown origin that she had been on Earth. She was now part of a whole with a sense of purpose and belonging that enveloped her like a hug. Wherever she went from now on, she would find comfort in knowing that there were others of her kind. Granted, they were few, but they were becoming as dear to her as if she had known them all her life.

  Especially this one. She traced the line of his brow with a fingertip, knowing that this was the first and only man she'd ever been truly intimate with. There was a saying on Earth that men were from Mars and women were from Venus, but she was from Zetith, which had put her in a totally different category--or so she'd always thought. But she wasn't. She was female and not only that, she was normal! Men had always seemed like another species to her--apart from the fact that the men she'd known truly were of a different species--but it seemed to go deeper than that. And now she knew why. It was very satisfying to finally understand so many things about herself. Growing up as she did was worse than being an orphan and not knowing your family's medical history; she'd had no idea what to expect as she grew older. She'd had no sense of self beyond that which she'd created on her own. She was always on the outside looking in, and hardly ever with a man in her bed.

  Micayla had never looked at a man the way she looked at Trag. She could understand on a cognitive level that many of them were attractive, but Trag went beyond that. She was rapidly approaching the point where she didn't want to bite him every time she laid eyes on him; she wanted to kiss him.

  The cool night air was quickly being replaced by the heat of the day and Micayla was beginning to wish the bed had been under the dome. She wouldn't have been able to look up at the stars, but at least they could have lounged there longer.

  "Micayla," someone said over her comstone. "Are you awake?"

  "Uh, yes," she replied.

  "And... decent?"

  "I believe so." She wasn't wearing anything but the necklace Dragus had given her, but since that constituted acceptable Darconian dress, she didn't think it mattered. However, just to be sure, she pulled the corner of the sheet across her chest.

  "Good. We're coming out there."

  The doorway from the greenhouse portion of The Shrine opened and Dragus and Hartak emerged, carrying more water and fruit.

  "We brought you some breakfast," Hartak called out as they approached. "Want us to move that bed into the shade while we're at it?"

  Trag stirred beneath her fingers. "Should have known you guys would find some excuse to butt in," he grumbled.

  "Aw, just be quiet, Slave Boy," Dragus said. "We'll take care of this." With that, the two powerful lizards lifted them, bed and all, onto the dais beneath the dome. "There. That should be a little cooler."

  "Thanks, guys," Micayla said. "It was starting to get kinda hot out here."

  "It was pretty hot last night." Dragus snickered. The two guards exchanged a look and both began laughing uncontrollably.

  "What's so funny?"

  Trag took a deep breath and sat up. "They were listening over the comstones," he said wearily. With a knowing look at them, he added, "Weren't you?"

  Dragus was still roaring with laughter, so it was Hartak who spoke. "Yeah, what in the name of the Great Mother is snow?"

  "How does anyone keep a secret around here?" Micayla muttered.

  Trag gave her necklace a little tug. "You just have to take them off. If someone's wearing one and you whisper their name, they might not hear you, but the next word they say activates the link in the other direction." Scratching his scalp, he added, "I guess I should have told you... Sorry... I just wasn't thinking about it last night."

  "I can't imagine why," Hartak said with a smirk.

  Micayla scowled at Dragus. "You didn't tell me that when you gave me the necklace," she said accusingly. "In fact, you told me never to take it off."

  "He has a reputation for doing things like that," Trag said. "He once gave Kyra a glowstone necklace that had a comstone set in it. It was a different color than usual--which is why Ty didn't spot it right away. He was really pissed about it too."

  "I don't think I mind very much, actually," Micayla said. "I mean, how much could you get from just listening?"

  In reply, Dragus made a sound that was surprisingly like Micayla's vocalizations during orgasm.

  "Well, maybe there's more to it than I thought..."

  Dragus grinned. "Jack sent us to find you. You two are supposed to leave for Nerik in a couple of hours."

  "What?" Trag shouted, leaping out of bed. "Today? In two hours? How--? When did--?"

  "Um, you must not have been paying very close attention last evening," Micayla said. "That was the plan."

  "Okay," Trag said, calming down a little. "At least you know about it." He paused, pinning her with a suspicious glare. "Mind telling me how you managed to keep listening to all that drivel while you were playing with my dick?"

  "Multitasking, Trag," Micayla said with a shrug. "Women are better at it than men."

  "Yeah," Dragus said eagerly. "You know... doing two things at once? Like sucking your nuts while she jacks off your cock?"

  Trag looked up, puzzled. "Did she do that? I can't seem to remember..."

  "No," Dragus said, his huge shoulders drooping slightly. "Been nice if she had, though."

  Micayla laughed as she sat up in bed. She would store that tidbit away for future reference as something that Trag might enjoy, but right now there were other priorities. "Set that tray down right here," she said, patting the bed. "We'd better have some breakfast before starting off on our mission."

  "Mind if we stick around?" Hartak asked. He looked like a puppy begging for a treat, but Micayla wasn't fooled.

  "Go away!" Trag and Micayla chorused.

  "If this is our last breakfast together," Trag said. "I want it to be memorable."

  "Oh, it won't be the last, Slave Boy!" Dragus said heartily. "You'll have that badass hung up to dry in no time."

  "Thought about where you'll live once you've done that?" Hartak put in. "You could come back and live right here in the palace. I know Queen Zealon would love to have you."

  "As what?" Trag scoffed. "Her mother's former Zetithian slave-in-residence? I don't think so." He paused, glancing uncertainly at Micayla. "Besides, Mick and I haven't talked about that sort of thing yet. We need to get Grekkor first."

  "Go on now, shoo!" Micayla said, flapping her hands at the two guards. "And don't worry; we'll be at the ship on time."

  Dragus and Hartak shuffled off, heads hanging low in disappointment.

  "I thought they'd never leave," Trag commented as the door to The Shrine closed behind them.

  "Come on," Micayla said, motioning for him to get back in bed. "Let's eat this stuff and then we'll get cleaned up and head out."

  "Sounds good to me." Trag grinned. His eyes lit up as he added, "Hey, we can do each other."

  "What? You mean feed each other?"

  He shook his head. "Nop
e, I mean rub you down with a scrail cloth while I feed you breakfast."

  "What's in it for you?"

  "If I do it well enough, maybe you'll return the favor." Trag picked up a cloth. "Or maybe you could feed me breakfast while I get you cleaned up."

  "Why do I think there's more to it than that?"

  Trag shrugged. "Whatever you want, Mick," he said. "I'm easy."

  "No you aren't," she said, revising her previous opinion. "You're actually quite difficult."

  Trag didn't argue and he and Micayla spent a pleasant half hour preparing for their adventure. While Trag buffed her body, Micayla popped bits of fruit in his mouth. His hands left a trail of heat as they explored her skin, but even so, she didn't need to take note of her reaction to it. All she had to do was look at Trag's stiffly up-cocked penis to know that he was reaching her on a deep, instinctive, and very carnal level.

  When it was her turn, she took a cloth and began with his thick, curly locks, working her way down to his toes.

  "You don't have a beard, do you?" she asked as she slid the cloth over his face, noting that there was no trace of stubble on his cheeks.

  "None of us do," Trag said. "Do you mind?"

  "Not at all," she replied. "To tell you the truth, I've never much cared for bearded men."

  Trag laughed. "Well, at least that's one thing you won't hold against me."

  "Oh, hush," Micayla said, pressing the cloth against his mouth to silence him. No, she wasn't holding anything against him at that point, and this, like the shape of his penis, was something that seemed very natural to her.

  She continued with her enjoyable task while Trag lay back against the headboard purring contentedly. His joy juice was puddling in his groin by the time she finished.

  Micayla sat back and viewed her handiwork as she munched on a vreckfruit. "You know something? You look good enough to eat."

  Trag smiled wickedly. "So eat me."

  "What? You mean suck your nuts while I jack off your dick?"

  Trag gasped and Micayla laughed delightedly as his cock instantly pulsed, sending more of his coronal fluid cascading down the shaft. She wouldn't have believed it was possible if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes, but it got bigger too.