by Mina Carter
He stroked and suckled, her body arching and writhing in response to the dual assault. Her hand closed around his cock again, but he kept her too off balance to do more than touch him, or stroke occasionally, ruthlessly driving her up toward need and heat.
“Laarn…” The soft plea of his name on her lips was the sweetest sound he’d heard in his life. “Please…”
“What do you need, little one?” he rasped, sitting up suddenly to claim her lips. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”
“Fuck me,” she whispered and he groaned, the words turning him on beyond all belief. “Take me and make me yours again.”
He nodded, lying back in the water again. Wrapping both hands around her tiny waist, he lifted her. She helped, repositioning and presenting the head of his cock against her slick entrance. They both groaned as she slid down, impaling herself on his thick cock slowly.
“Ride me, Jess,” he groaned, lifting to see where their bodies joined, to where her sweet little pussy stretched wide around his thick cock. Before long, he wouldn’t be able to take her like this, she would be too big, her belly swollen with their child. “Ride me as I watch you, looking up in worship of the goddess you are.”
“You see me that way? As a goddess?” She looked down at him in surprise, already starting to move. He gritted his teeth at the erotic slip slide as she lifted up and then impaled herself on him again.
“You’re mine. My bond-mate,” he managed in a rough voice. “I will always worship you, kneeling at your feet if I must to be granted the boon of touching your beautiful body. I will always crave you, always need you, always want you.”
She groaned, the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, and then there were no more words. With each rock of her hips as she rode him, she took them both closer to bliss. He held out for as long as he could, letting her have her way with him, but then she began to falter, her hips losing the rhythm.
Opening her beautiful eyes, she didn’t need to say anything. He read the entreaty, the need in them loud and clear. With a growl, he took over, his hands on her hips as he drove up into her. The water lapped and splashed around them as he fucked her with long strokes. Crying out, she collapsed across his chest and he held her, his strength enough for both of them as he moved. Driving up. Stroke after stroke almost turning him inside out with fire as he held off his climax to make it good for her.
Then she whimpered, and her pussy clamped down hard around him as she came, near silently in his arms. He grunted, the spasming of her pussy milking his cock. Fire raced down his spine and around to his balls, his cock jerking as he surged up into her one last time and stiffened. His cock buried inside her to the hilt, he groaned as he emptied his balls into her, jet after jet of hot, ropey seed bathing her inner walls in an explosion of bliss the like of which he’d never experienced before.
Then it was over, and he sagged in the water, glad of its support as he held her close and brushed his lips over her temple. Closing his eyes, he sighed in contentment and happiness.
She was his. Forever.
THE LAST FEW days with Laarn had been amazing.
Jess sighed to herself, lost in happy memories. He was a wonderful lover and insatiable. She wasn’t an innocent by any stretch of the imagination, even verged on the adventurous, but she’d had no idea sex could be so… everything. So fulfilling. Earth-shattering in its rawness and beauty.
The healer certainly was a dark horse. So stoic and implacable all the time, she’d have never guessed that under that unreadable facade lay a deeply sensual streak that delighted in torturing her with pleasure until she was hoarse screaming his name and boneless with the ecstasy he took her to.
It was more than just the sex, though. There was something else there. A look in his eyes when he touched her, took her… something in there that rocked her right down to her soul.
She couldn’t stay away from him either, wanting him again even though he’d come back at lunch. He’d claimed her again… all uncontrolled passion against the door in their quarters, too desperate to even make it to the bed.
And she’d loved it. Every single hot, sweaty, needy second of it.
Loved it and wanted more. Needed more. Craved more.
Was that normal for bonded couples? This all-consuming, carnal desperation.
She bit her lip as she made her way through the corridors to the makeshift healer’s hall, careful to keep to the smaller halls and corridors so she didn’t get caught.
Security had been massively increased in the palace after the purist attack and given the fact she was carrying what could be the savior of the Lathar race, she wasn’t supposed to even leave their quarters without the security detail camped in the corridor outside the front door. So she’d slipped out of the garden entrance when they weren’t watching.
After all, surprising her husband in his office for a quickie didn’t need an audience. She was kinky, but not that kinky.
Her heart sped up a little as she reached the large hall they were using while the upper levels of the healer’s hall was rebuilt. The south wing of the palace was high ceilinged and flooded with light. Instead of walls, there were simply dividers and screens to create rooms and a big tent of plastic material for the quarantine areas and operating theaters.
Making her way around the edges of the hall on silent feet, she passed the recovery “rooms.” Xaandril, badly injured in battle and brought back to the palace by Laarn, was in one of them, Kenna in constant attendance. Jess’ lips quirked.
Try as Kenna might to insist her concern for the big general was simply that of one soldier to another, it was obvious to anyone with eyes in their head that something was going on between the two of them. It also hadn’t escaped Jess’ notice that Xaandril still wore the blue ribbon Kenna had wrapped around his wrist at the tournament.
“I was going to terminate them.”
The sound of Laarn’s voice stopped Jess just as she reached the area at the back of the hall that had been sectioned off for his lab and office. Her hand fell away from the drape dividing it from the room next door that she’d slipped into. Instinct made her shrink back, out of sight of the semi-translucent panel across the upper third of the drape. Slowly, she edged forward, just enough to peek around the edge.
Two big figures moved about in the area beyond and she easily recognized the other figure as Karryl, Laarn’s friend and Jane’s mate. The huge warrior was leaning against something on the other side of the office, his arms folded across his chest. He was also right in her line of sight, and she his, so she had to be careful. Any movement and he’d spot her for sure.
“You were?” Karryl asked.
“Yeah.” Laarn moved around the bed in the middle of the room. From the metallic sounds and the sparks lighting up around him, he was mending it. She bit her lip again; intelligent, a surgeon and good with tools… was there no end to his talents? “I would have done it as soon as I’d confirmed conception was viable.”
Her attention snapped away from the hot image in her head of Laarn stripped to the waist with a welding torch in his hands and back to the conversation. Conception. He was talking about her pregnancy.
A chill shivered down her spine in warning. She didn’t need to be hearing this, shouldn’t be listening… but wild horses wouldn’t have dragged her away from that spot, her feet rooted to the floor as Laarn continued to speak.
“I never wanted to implant them at all.”
“What do you mean? How the draanth did she get pregnant then?”
Laarn’s chuckle was dry and a little bitter. “Because I’m a fucking idiot and left everything set up in my lab rather than saving the data and terminating the things.”
Her heart stuttered in her chest. Things. He was referring to babies, their babies, as things.
“But Jess was ill while I was away, and those draanthing idiots in the hall made her feel unwelcome, so she used my lab…”
Karryl took up where he left off, realization in his deep tones. “An
d she used your equipment… the AI completed the implantation sequence.”
“You got it in one.” Laarn paused and sighed, the outline of his figure moving as he dropped his head, his hand coming up to scoop his hair out of his face. Tears welled in the corners of her eyes as she watched. How many times had she seen that gesture?
“Honestly? I never intended to implant them at all, or claim her. I never wanted that—”
The tears fell, a sob rising in her throat as she backed up, her ears ringing. He didn’t want her. He’d never wanted to claim her. Pain lanced through her chest and she stumbled unseen from the hall. Her vision blinded by tears, she somehow made it through the hall and out into the corridors without anyone seeing her.
15
She was in the Imperial gardens. Jess blinked, her eyelashes wet with tears as she looked around. Curled up on one of the benches, she was well out of sight of the main pathways. How long had she been here? It couldn’t have been too long. Once her guards had discovered she was gone, all hell would have broken loose. She’d have heard the alarms.
She was glad they hadn’t found her though. Not in this state.
A shuddering breath left her as she realized tears still ran down her face silently. She was a fucking idiot. Laarn didn’t want her, never had, and he hadn’t claimed her until his hand had been forced.
Until she’d forced his hand, pushing and pushing him into a relationship with her. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. She’d hung around so he couldn’t help but notice her, mooned after him like some fucking love-sick teen over her first crush. Then, she let out a bitter laugh, she’d pulled the age-old underhanded female trick and gotten herself pregnant by accident.
Never mind that they hadn’t even had sex at that point. Oh no, she’d managed to find a sci-fi equivalent of the immaculate conception. Someone slap her ass and call her fucking Mary. Her hand shook as she shoved it through her hair, the elegant braid she’d put it into this morning long gone under Laarn’s hands at lunch.
The memory of their tryst earlier brought fresh tears to her eyes. He fucked her, sure, and he was good at it… so very good… and she’d even thought she’d seen something in his eyes, some sort of emotion. Her snort was bitter. Love. She’d thought it was love, hidden way back there. A love he couldn’t admit to yet, hampered by his warrior’s training or something. But now she realized differently.
He hadn’t wanted to bond with her, so what man wouldn’t make the best of a bad job, particularly a man who hadn’t had access to a woman for years? No wonder he fucked her with desperation. He was frustrated. Probably had the worst case of blue balls for a fucking century, so when he’d been forced into what amounted to a shotgun wedding…
She closed her eyes and groaned. Oh my god, how fucking stupid was she? No wonder he’d been putting off a bonding ceremony. “After the baby,” her ass. He didn’t want to be bonded to her at all, and with his knowledge of genetic manipulation… shit, he was probably already looking for a way to remove the bonding marks from his skin.
A wave of exhaustion and nausea washed over her. She’d made a complete and utter fool of herself. Chasing a man who wasn’t interested. Had never been interested. She’d convinced herself that he was shy or something. He was dedicated to his duty to save the Lathar, but he wasn’t shy at all. He never had been.
Casting her mind back, she tried to think of any point when he’d shown interest in her at all. And came up blank. Sure, of all the human women, he’d requested her the most often… she groaned again and let her head rest against the cool marble.
Stockholm Syndrome. She had a classic fucking case of it.
Steps sounded behind her and she jerked upright, grabbing the hem of her skirts to wipe the tears from her eyes. The last thing she wanted to do was admit why she was crying to anyone, to admit her failures and that she’d been a fucking idiot. A small measure of relief filled her as she realized the tread was heavy and male. A Lathar, thank god. She could fool a warrior… fooling one of her friends would have been entirely more difficult. Impossible. After all they’d been through, they could read each other like a book.
Her eyes widened as Saal came into view. A few days had taken care of most of his injuries but he still looked like a man who had been beaten, and badly.
“Shit, Saal…” She looked around in panic. “You have to go. If the guard sees you near me, he’ll kill you.”
“What I have to say is worth the risk.” He managed a small smile as he came nearer and sat on the other end of the bench. His movements were slower than normal and obviously painful. At her little look he shrugged. “None of the healers will touch me past ensuring my life is not in danger, so I have to heal the old-fashioned way. Slowly. To teach me a lesson.”
Her heart clenched for him as she took in the bruises on his face, one eye still nearly shut, and across his chest and body. He had to be in agony with the wounds Laarn had inflicted, but to then deny healing as well… a shiver hit her at her mate’s ruthlessness.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t know accepting help from you would make him do this…”
“No,” he interrupted her. “You didn’t do this. I did. I didn’t need to challenge him for you. I didn’t need to use you accepting my help as a route to issue that challenge, especially when you did not know our laws. It was a dishonorable move… a, how do you humans say it, a dick move?”
Her lips quirked a little, even through her sadness. “You’ve been talking to Kenna or Jane,” she said, recognizing the comment.
He nodded. “I was reassigned to Lady Jane’s protection detail. She’s… not you, but is pleasant to be around. I’m hoping that my compliance will stand me in good stead and I might eventually be granted permission to travel to your system. See Earth for myself.”
“Yeah?” She smiled, grateful for his understanding and the fact that he hadn’t queried the tears on her face or her red, puffy eyes. She shuffled more upright, smoothing her hair down. She must look a right sight. “Are you sure that’s because you want to see my planet, or because there are human women—a lot of human women—there?”
He grinned, ducking his head a little and looking up at her through his bangs. “It’s the women. You can’t blame me, not when I see you and the other ladies here… You’re all beautiful and any male would be proud to call you his own.”
She shook her head. “Word of warning when you meet more Terran women? Don’t go around declaring you own them… we don’t like that. It smacks too close to slavery, and we abolished the right to own another human centuries ago.”
He blinked, surprise on his face. “You think that’s what we mean? That by claiming you, we make you our slaves? Gods!”
Shoving a hand into his long hair, he looked at her again. The depth of the shock in his pale eyes would have been amusing if it wasn’t so profound.
“You really don’t understand our males at all, do you?” he asked. “The dream of all of us is to find a female to claim and call our own. A worthy female who will call the mating marks out of our skin for all to see… but it’s not the male who makes a slave,” he all but spat the word, “of the female, but the other way around. And willingly. Once those marks are on a male’s wrist, he belongs to her. Body, mind and soul. There will never be another female for him as long as he lives. His body, his cock, will never work for another.”
Her mouth opened but no words came out, the depth of her surprise was so great. Finally, she cleared her throat and managed, “What. Ever?”
Saal shook his head and then paused and frowned. “Maybe if she died? After years have passed? Usually bonded males whose mates die… well, they’re never the same, if you get what I mean? They often go berserk in battle, just keep attacking the enemy until they’re exhausted and get killed.”
“Oh my…” She really didn’t know what to say to that, but was saved from answering as large figures closed in on them suddenly.
Hard hands yanked her off the bench and
she screamed, the sound cut off as a hard hand was slapped over her mouth. She carried on screaming, struggling like a wildcat while next to her, Saal bellowed with rage and fought back. But the dark-clad figures around them were too numerous and she watched in horror as they surrounded him. In his injured state, it was obvious any resistance wasn’t going to last long.
Her captors lifted her but she twisted and turned, trying to keep him in sight. She managed it just long enough to see him hit over the back of the head, collapsing to the ground in a heap. Lifeless. She didn’t stop screaming and struggling as they carried her away until something sharp was pressed against her neck.
Every cell in her body froze as she stilled, her heart pounding in her chest as a voice rasped in her ear.
“The price for you is dead or alive, Terran bitch. Your call.”
“I CAN BLOODY WELL FEED myself, female. Give it here!”
Laarn chuckled at the growl from the general’s room as he and Karryl passed, pausing for a moment to get a glimpse into the “room” Xaandril was recovering in and biting back a small smile.
The big warrior was bed-bound, his shoulder and arm bandaged right the way up to the neck with movement suppressors in place, their bright blue lights winking in concert. He couldn’t have moved the limb to save his life, just the way Laarn wanted it while his body healed. Sitting next to him on the covers was Kenna, one eyebrow arched as she held out a spoonful of soup.
“And just how are you going to balance the bowl and the spoon without wearing it and burning yourself in the process?” she demanded. “Stop being a big baby and just let me feed you.”
Karryl whistled softly, murmuring, “Did she just call the Hero of the Nine Wastes a big baby?”
Laarn chuckled as they passed. “Yes, I do believe she did.”
