Without losing pace, he swung me up into his arms, carrying me like a baby. “Rest,” he said.
The heat of his body against the cool night air, and the lull of his swaggering steps soon had me resting my head on his chest. The real-life him was so different from my Episodes. His scent was more masculine and his muscles more firm. Seeing the brightest moon reflect off the deadly blade of his scythe I felt protected. I didn’t fool myself into thinking Ayres felt anything for me other than the necessity to keep me alive so he could win the game. Despite him being in my life the past four years, it had been one-sided. He may have popped in once in a while, but he’d explained to me that images of him were programmed into the implant, so when the time came for him to come for me, I would know him. And he’d been right. When he’d reached out his hand to me at the cottage, I’d clung to him like a rope in quicksand.
I dreamt. Swirling images of spaceships, slashing scythes, moons—and Uncle Mick lying in a pool of blood at my feet. Whenever sadness and restlessness overcame me, a voice reached out to me in the darkness. “Shhh, you’re all right,” it soothed, allowing me to drift away to dream of comforting caresses and kisses. I awoke suddenly when my ass hit the ground with a thump. Brain fog and the dark night sky distorted my vision.
“I have already lost,” yelled a voice. “But I will make sure you do not succeed.”
Bolts of colored laser light zoomed back and forth between two giant male forms yielding their weapons. I recognized one of the men as Ayres. The lights flew wild, hitting branches and making sickening cracking noises. A crash sounded close to my right making me leap to my feet in fear. I saw the snarling face of one of the alien warriors turn to me and grin sadistically.
“Fear not, girl. I will make it quick,” he said.
In a brief instant Ayres’ gaze locked with mine. I froze. “Run!” he yelled. Needing no further encouragement, I scrambled into the brush and ducked down out of sight. Letting loose a battle cry that made my hair stand on end, Ayres charged forward. Swinging his scythe in a deadly arc, he engaged his opponent who raised his own weapon in defense.
The man Ayres fought was not Oro, which brought me some comfort. That meant Lissa may still be alive—for now. What would happen, I wondered, if we came face to face with them? Would I have to stand by and watch Ayres kill my friend? Or would Lissa have to watch Oro kill me? Maybe then she’d figure out this was for real.
The battle raged for some time. Both of the men were of a similar size and strength, so it would boil down to skill. Though Ayres had not originally planned to compete in the tournament, he’d had four years to prepare himself. But would it be enough?
Loud shrieks suddenly came from every direction. The jungle appeared to come alive as dark shapes writhed and whirled through the night. Masses of them—whatever they were—grouped together forming a large circle round the two battling men. Deeper into the bushes I scurried, peeking out through the thick tangled vines at the scene less than forty feet away.
The two warriors ceased their fight, and with an exchanged glance, the mortal enemies turned back to back to greet their foe. Those twisted, painted bodies, bearing crude weapons, and snarls on their faces, must be the Varlings. Their sheer number gave them an advantage. One on one against an alien warrior they would not have stood a chance. Even from my vantage point I could see the gaunt faces and protruding ribs curved around indented bellies.
Ayres took a few steps and held up his scythe in warning. The other warrior brandishing a deadly looking broad sword did the same. “Flee or die where you stand,” Ayres threatened.
“Bloody cannibals,” the other warrior growled.
Cannibals?
One of the Varlings—I assume the leader—wearing more paint than the others, yelled something I couldn’t understand. When he waved his right arm over his head, half the group charged the warriors. Weapons cut and sliced in a blur of speed, and bolts of lasers whirled. Screams mixed with battle cries amid a mass of tangled limbs. The carnage continued until I could take no more. Like a coward I closed my eyes and put my hands up over my ears. When it finally grew silent, except for the moans of the dying, I dared to look. Ayres and the other warrior remained standing. Both were covered in blood, be it their own or their attackers’ I didn’t know.
Ayres repeated his threat. “Flee...or die!” I for one would have run for the hills.
Eyes locked upon one another—invading aliens, and defending natives. The leader of the Varlings finally dropped his gaze. After muttering a few commands, he and his remaining tribe backed away. They’d suffered enough loss for one day.
Sudden sadness enveloped me as I watched them go, shoulders slumped in defeat. They were no match for the aliens or their weapons. They hadn’t stood a chance. Primitive Earthlings probably faced the same fate when invaders from Calixtus had arrived to play their precious games. The future of Teleon could very well be slated for the same fate as Earth. Aliens would be stranded, left behind for generations, thereby forming a new race of inhabitants—people who would grow and adapt and increase in numbers, progressing until Taleon no longer served its purpose. Calixtus would then set out for greener pastures, moving throughout the galaxy leaving behind misbegotten legacies in their wake.
The two warriors turned to face each other. Both appeared exhausted. Now that their mutual enemy had retreated, they were once again on opposite sides.
“Have done with your fight,” Ayres said.
The other man raised up his sword. “I will not be left behind. I would rather die a warrior than be forced into a life of scavenging amongst a bunch of heathens.”
“Others are here. Our kind. Find them and make a new life,” Ayres suggested. He spoke kindly but still held his weapon ready.
Tension crackled in the air. I held my breath as the two men continued to size each other up. Slowly, the other warrior lowered his sword. Ayres did likewise, but kept his eyes upon him. “Keep your woman close,” the man threatened. “If I see you again, I will kill you both.” Backing away, he got to the edge of the thick brush and then disappeared. Ayres remained still for some time and then gestured for me to come to him.
The sight of him up close assured me the majority of the blood he wore wasn’t his own. He had a few minor scratches, but nothing more serious. I followed him as he went to the small trickling stream and cleaned himself up. Sitting back on the mossy bank, a slight movement caught my eye. A bubble floated close by, no larger than my fist. It bobbed just over my head, and when I reached out to poke it, it bounced off my finger.
“What is that?” As I spoke I saw another bubble glide gracefully by.
Sitting back on his haunches, his face and chest gleaming with drops of moisture, Ayres noted the strange anomaly. He ran a hand over the top of his dark, brush cut hair and grinned at me. “Have you not noticed them before now?”
“Them? The bubbles?”
“They are Seers; the eyes and ears of Calixtus. For all who watch the tournament.”
“Oh, like little viewer cameras. How clever.” I poked at a third bubble drifting by my nose. “And tough little buggers.”
“The battle must have drawn their attention. They will move off soon.”
“So are they watching us...all the time?” Those several trips I’d taken into the bushes rose up in my mind.
“Not always. They are mostly around to capture combat moments.”
I wondered if they had gathered around, floating intently by as that warrior’s partner had been killed? Ayres shifted to sit down beside me, so close that our thighs were touching. When our eyes met I could see his were shining with intention.
“What?” I stirred uncomfortably under his scrutiny.
“The other warrior most likely did not consummate his partnership before his woman was killed.”
“So...” I wasn’t sure what he was getting at, but a slight tremor went through me when he put his arm around me to pull me closer.
“I will not make the same mis
take.”
Chapter 11
Did he mean to take me then? Here, by the side of the creek after what had just occurred? What if the Varlings or that other warrior came back? And besides all that, I couldn’t just do it. Not outside. My first time should be special...romantic...and in a bed.
It was plain Ayres had no such qualms. He lowered his head and kissed me. His hand on my back came up to hold my head in place. When I opened my mouth to protest, his tongue shot inside. Gradually, I relaxed. My first real kiss. Nice. I could do this. The kissing part at least. I leaned into him, my body turning so my arms could come up around his neck. The pressure of his lips and the thrust of his tongue became fiercer. This was no sweet young man charming his lover with the promise of delight. No, this man would bend me to his will. Or break me. I gasped when his other hand squeezed my tit and pinched my nipple.
“Whoa there, big fella.” I lowered my arms and squirmed away. Before I could go further his hand darted out and grabbed hold of mine.
“We will join tonight,” he informed me.
“I’m really not in the mood. Besides, aren’t you tired?” He was pulling me closer, the moss allowing my backside to slide along freely. I tried to pull my hand free, but his hold was tight. Once he got me close enough he lowered me onto my back. Then he rolled on top of me and pushed my legs apart with one of his. Bracing himself on an elbow, he held most of his weight off of me. His other hand lingered down my body to squeeze my tit again. “Get off!”
Instead of speaking he kissed me again, yet, not so aggressively as the first time. The feel and the scent of him began to battle away at my defenses. His caress was gentle and as his hand slipped beneath the fabric of my shirt I was pleasantly surprised when I felt his skin hot against mine. He sat up suddenly, between my thighs. His chest was a mass of rippling muscles and faint scars. A warrior’s body. My eyes drank in the sight of him, mesmerized. I barely noticed when he lifted my shirt and pulled it off over my head. I remembered I wasn’t wearing a bra. Or panties. He snatched my hands as I tried to cover my boobs. He lowered his body and kissed me again, while his rock hard erection pressed against my leg.
A thought dawned on me. “Aren’t I supposed to be a virgin for the game?” I mumbled against his lips.
“At the beginning of the tournament you must be free of a man’s touch.” His lips moved on to my neck and then began to trail lower.
“So, why’s it okay to do it now?”
He paused just over my nipple, the warmth of his breath making it pebble. “There is a legend. I believe it goes back to the days of old, when the tournaments just began. The women chosen by their warriors could be anyone. Some warriors chose strong, fierce warrior women to fight by their side, while others brought their mates. The story goes that one of the women who entered the game was with child. She was killed by another competitor. Her mate demanded blood rites from the warrior who had killed her. It is law on Calixtus that anyone who kills a child shall be executed. The warrior, who had killed the pregnant woman, ultimately won the game with his mate. He was granted a boon—his life. But after discovering his crime—for he had not known the other woman was with child—the warrior, overcome with remorse, asked that his boon instead be granted that any woman who shall enter the game must be untouched, so that his crime would never be repeated.”
“What happened to him?” I asked.
“The warrior was granted his boon. He was brought back down to Earth—where the game was said to be first played—and the pregnant woman’s mate, who had been left behind, killed him.
“Wow. He had the rules of the game changed at the cost of his life.”
“Yes,” Ayres said. “Does that answer your question?”
“I guess. But what if me or one of the other women are impregnated here, during the game?” It was a possibility.
“We have come a long way since those early days,” he informed me. “One Earth month before the tournament begins, the warriors are given an injection to prevent the chance of conception. It will be effective for several Earth months. The women are checked just before the game to ensure that they are untouched.”
“Well, that’s clever.”
He grinned at me wolfishly. “So you see? There is nothing to worry about.” Lowering his head, he fastened onto my nipple. My back arched as I felt the nip of his teeth. I held his head in my hands, watching him in the darkness. He sat up and then rose to his feet to remove his boots and pants. Then he knelt at my feet and took off my boots. With a firm grip on the bottom of my pants, he whisked them off and tossed them aside.
Now we were both completely naked.
Before I could cross my legs or try to wiggle into a modest pose he was on the ground between my legs again. As he lowered I’d caught sight of his cock. It was erect and enormous. And now it was seeking entry into my body.
“Ayres, don’t...I’m not ready.”
Despite his hot kisses, my body felt more anxiety than anticipation. This would be the first time we’d really made love. I’d longed for him to take me on the ship—back when I’d foolishly believed this was all an Episode. Now I wasn’t so brave.
Ayres began kissing a trail down my body. Starting at my collarbone and working his way to my belly. His hands held my breasts and gently massaged, pinching my nipples into tight little buds. As his head dipped lower, his hands moved to hold my hips. Soon I felt his warm breath against my pussy. His tongue flicked out and licked my other little bud, which had grown taut. He stroked me with his tongue until I felt myself begin to relax and become warm again. My legs opened wider to accommodate him. As his tongue dipped deep inside of me I could feel the rough whiskers of his cheeks chafe at my thighs. Sensual, it aroused me. His tongue retuned to lick at my clit and I felt one large finger slip into my passage. Then another. Gently, he pushed deep inside me, only to pull back out and then push inside again.
My head sashayed from side to side while I reached down to grab hold of his ears, urging him deeper...deeper. “Please!” I cried, unashamed of the force of my need. Every sex Episode I’d had with him hadn’t even come close to this.
Taking mercy on me, Ayres began kissing his way back up my body. I reached down and took hold of his cock. Soon, this would be inside me. A shiver of fear tore through me again. He was so strong, so large. Would it hurt?
I guided his cock to my opening and let go of him to brace my hands on his chest. As he surged forward in one powerful thrust, I grabbed hold of his shoulders and hung on for dear life. His lips crushed against mine, capturing my cry. He paused for a moment, letting me adjust to his size, and then he began to move. Slowly at first, plunging deep and withdrawing, as he’d done with his fingers. Faster he began to stroke, until I became a mindless frenzy of want and desire. My hips arched up to meet his thrusts. I was no longer mindful of the ground beneath my ass, or the chill of the night air as a sheen of sweat covered our bodies. All I saw was the stars overhead twinkling brightly. They seemed to dance more frantically as my world suddenly burst. I cried out and buried my face against Ayres’ chest. He drove into me a couple more times, and one last time, before he stilled. He didn’t throw back his head, or cry out as I had. Instead, he stared me straight in the eyes. They gleamed in the moonlight, fierce and primitive.
“Mine,” he said.
“Yes.” What else could I do in that moment when I had been so utterly claimed, but agree?
Chapter 12
I woke up alone. Sometime during the night I’d shoved my clothing beneath me, trying to ward off the dampness of the spongy moss. It’d made a soft bed, but as the cool night air mixed with the heat of the ground, it’d become dewy. Ayres had slumbered beside me, the warmth of his body cozy against my exposed skin. His breath had been deep and even, but I’d known he’d awaken at even the slightest noise. Always the warrior.
The babbling creek refreshed me. I crept in slowly, adjusting to the coolness, and bathed as best I could in the two-foot depth. Wet, I emerged, and saw Ayres
coming up alongside the water’s edge, carrying a large fish—I think—in his hands.
As I huddled into my clothes, he knelt and built a small fire. “Hungry?” he asked.
“Yes.” The fish was weird looking, but at least we wouldn’t be dining on fruit again.
While he cooked, Ayres peered at me, his gaze seeming to ask a question. Are you all right? Now, in the light of day, recalling how I’d brazenly succumbed to his desire last night, I felt suddenly shy. He’d been rough, yet tender as well, and I’d caught a glimpse of the man he was when he let his guard slip. Perhaps he was not so cool and uncaring toward me after all?
Sitting side by side we ate. When he finished, he brushed his hands off on his pants and rose to his feet. “We need to get moving,” he said. I finished off the last of the pinkish meat he’d given me and got to my feet.
We journeyed on, keeping to the path through the jungle, the cries and chirps of the birds echoing around us. A slight rain began. The winding branches of the tall, thick trees formed a canopy overhead shielding us effectively. Ayres kept silent, his ever-roving gaze busy keeping watch on our surroundings.
I felt changed. No longer an innocent woman. The ache between my legs and the shiver that shot through me whenever I recalled Ayres’ touch reminded me of this fact. Watching his back as I trailed him I wondered if he was thinking about last night? Probably not. If anything, he most likely itched for another battle. When all of this was over I questioned if I’d ever see him again. If we lost and had to remain here, he might be so pissed off that he would take his anger out on me. Perhaps he’d chase me off and let me fend for myself? But if we won, and he was granted his boon, and Jack and Danny were released as he’d promised, would he return me to Earth as well? That is what I hoped for. If he did return me, I’d have to make sure he dropped me far away from Graneden or I’d wind up back in Lindove. Ayres had revealed there was a tracker in my head—now turned off—so what if he turned it on and I went all batty again? What if he sold me to some other warrior to compete in a different tournament that didn’t require me being a virgin? Instead of all this wondering, I should just ask the man and put myself out of my misery. But judging by his rigid back, with the deadly scythe angled across it, he didn’t appear to be in a sharing mood.
Survivor Planet Series 2-Book Box Set Page 6
