by Ivy Barrett
He thrust faster, refusing to surrender. Rocking her forward so she lay on her stomach, he pressed her down into the bed, needing her to feel his strength and accept his control over her. She writhed beneath him and arched, silently begging for more. So he fucked her hard and fast, each thrust its own possession. He sank into her mind, shielding her from the darkness. Twisting and bucking, she came in distinct spasms while he wrestled with the abyss.
Buzzing filled his ears and mutant heat burned his eyes. I will not lose her! Flames engulfed him and he screamed, but the sound echoed in his mind. The abyss groaned, folding in on itself, leaving him alone with the fire.
* * *
Searing heat exploded within Lorelle. The sensation began as an orgasm but catapulted her far beyond anything she’d experienced before. Mal Ton held her down, building the intensity with each forceful thrust. He was inside her mind! His mental penetration was more invasive than his pounding cock. She screamed, no longer able to distinguish pleasure from pain.
He wrapped his arm around her hips and shuddered against her back. She felt him come deep inside her, his seed scalding its way to her womb.
The fire sputtered out and he slipped from her mind. She felt his absence with aching clarity. What had just happened? Trembling and dazed, it took all her strength just to roll them to their sides.
His arm lay lax across her hip. Uncertainty rippled through her. “Mal Ton?”
Silence.
She wiggled away from him, groaning as his cock slipped free. Turning to face him, she froze. He rested on his side, still as death. His eyes were closed and his face was void of expression. Her gaze flew to his chest as her fingers pressed against the side of his throat. The steady rise and fall was echoed by a subtle throb beneath her fingertips. At least she hadn’t killed him! She released a shaky sigh and shook his shoulder. His skin radiated heat and he didn’t react to the stimuli.
What had she done to him?
Dread cast its shadow upon her, making her insides quiver. She scrambled off the bed and threw open compartments until she found his clothes. Not pausing to fully dress, she struggled into the oversized shirt as she ran for the door. She hit the manual trigger, but nothing happened. Balling her hands into fists, she pounded on the locked portal.
“Help! Can anyone hear me? We need a doctor in here.” No one responded and her anxiety mounted. She ran back to the bed, narrowing her focus to Mal Ton and nothing else. His forehead felt even hotter than his shoulder. He was much too big to drag to the bathroom, but there had to be something she could do. She grabbed her uniform top off the bathroom floor and wet it with cool water. Draping the damp material over his body, she tried the door again. “Hello! I need help in here—now!”
The door vibrated then released with a sudden pop. A dark-haired woman shoved past her and rushed to the bed. She took one look at Mal Ton and ran back to the doorway, shouting in a sharp burst of words Lorelle didn’t understand.
“He needs a doctor,” Lorelle said in Standard.
The woman’s dark gaze swept over Lorelle, accusation clear in her sneer. “What did you do to him?”
“Nothing.” At least nothing intentional, she clarified silently.
“If he dies, you die!” The woman lunged for her. Lorelle easily sidestepped the clumsy attack.
“Renée.” A deep male voice drew Lorelle’s attention to the doorway. “Go get Ostan.” Though his tone remained conversational, warning flashed in his light green eyes.
The brunette obeyed without hesitation and Lorelle stared at the man. Dressed in black pants and a hip-length tunic that reflected their barbaric surroundings, he emanated power despite his lean build. Was this Fane? Dark hair brushed his shoulders, the front section pulled back away from his face.
“I didn’t intentionally hurt him,” she felt compelled to explain.
“I know.” With a rolling stride, he crossed the room and checked Mal Ton. “How long has he been unconscious?”
“Just a few minutes. Why wouldn’t the door open?”
“The locks are triggered by telepathic energy.” He lit several candles in the branched sconce bedside the bed. The wavering light revealed hints of red in his dark hair, yet cast his angular features into high relief. “I’m Fane.”
She didn’t get the opportunity to return the introduction. A second man entered a moment later, carrying a small case. He acknowledged her with a stiff nod and her memory stirred. Had he been in the clinic when she first arrived? His hair was also red, but a garish orange shade that contrasted sharply with his pale skin. He set the case on the bed beside Mal Ton and retrieved a handheld scanner.
“Ducat prin taral form ra?” Renée asked from the doorway.
Pain detonated behind Lorelle’s eyes and crawled up the front of her skull. She clutched her head and closed her eyes as blood rushed through her ears. What did she do to him? Renée’s words had sounded foreign, yet Lorelle understood their meaning.
“Why were you loitering in the hallway outside his door?” Fane countered in the same language.
“I was going to let him know I’d returned.” Her dark gaze darted between Fane and Lorelle, her posture stiff and agitated.
“He has made his feelings clear. Back off. That’s an order.”
Her nostrils flared and she glared at Lorelle before she turned and walked away.
“He’s trapped between shifts,” the doctor told Fane. “I gave him an inhibitor to slow down the transformation. That way we can take action once his body decides which form to take. If he turns feral… Stubborn fool. He must have snatched her back from the very brink.”
Should she tell them she could understand them? She crossed her arms over her chest and assessed the situation. Fane was incredibly hard to read. The doctor seemed almost sad. Why should she reveal a potential advantage? To figure out how the hell it happened, her rational side argued.
“Did Mal Ton shapeshift before he slipped into unconsciousness?” Fane asked her in Standard.
She swallowed hard. Mal Ton had been behind her, holding her down while he thrust his massive cock into her pussy. “I don’t think so.” She wasn’t sure what had happened.
“Did his eyes turn gold?” Ostan asked.
Sex had never embarrassed her before. Why was she being so squeamish? “He was… behind me. I couldn’t see his eyes.”
The doctor approached her with the scanner. “Your fever is down. That’s wonderful. Have your other symptoms eased?”
She glanced at Mal Ton and tension gripped her belly. “Did I infect him?”
“Not in the way you mean,” Ostan assured her. “He was infected by, and treated for, the lentavirus long before he had sex with you.”
“His ability to shift is responsible for his condition,” Fane added, the hint of a smile curving his lips.
“May I take some samples? Understanding how your interaction with Mal Ton affected you might help me treat him. It’s painless.”
“Of course.”
He retrieved several wand-shaped objects from his case and pressed the first against the side of her neck. “Are you having any new symptoms?”
She licked her lips, feeling very much like a lab rat. “I can understand you.”
He tilted his head and lowered the second wand, which he had been about to fill. “You were not able to speak Standard before?”
“When Renée asked Fane what I’d done, I felt like my brain caught on fire. Then I just knew what she’d said. I don’t know what language you were speaking, but I know what the words mean.”
“Mal Ton has a language interface,” Fane mused, “but how would she have—”
“Shouldn’t we figure out how to wake him up?” She finger-combed her hair away from her face as the doctor finished collecting his samples. How could they just stand here while Mal Ton struggled for his life? Had Mal Ton known what he was risking when he decided to treat her? She’d resented his determination, felt as
if he were exploiting her condition.
“His body must cycle through the shift,” Ostan said, putting everything back inside his case. “There’s not much more we can do.”
She almost accepted the explanation until the doctor looked at Fane. There was a wealth of communication in his expression. They were deceiving her or protecting her or—she wasn’t sure what.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
“When Mal Ton shapeshifts he samples the DNA of the form he intends to take. You were in the process of transforming when he scanned you.”
The pain in Fane’s eyes explained what his words left out. “He’s becoming what he saved me from.”
“Possibly,” the doctor said. “He might still be able to—”
“Can I cure him the same way he cured me?”
“You’re not strong enough.” Regret tinged Fane’s tone.
“So we just let him die?”
“We?” Fane challenged. “What’s your interest in his well-being?”
“How can you ask me that? He just saved my life.”
“So you feel honor-bound to return the favor?”
She didn’t understand the amusement in his eyes. There was nothing in the present situation that could be construed as funny. “Do you want him to die?”
“He is more important than you could possibly understand. I will do everything in my power to ensure his survival.”
Ostan cleared his throat. “Sir, don’t attempt anything until his body has had time to rebuild its energy stores. His levels are severely depleted.”
“Of course.”
“If his condition deteriorates, send for me immediately.”
Fane nodded and the doctor left them alone with Mal Ton.
“Are you hungry? You’ve been through a lot in the past few hours.”
“I’ve been through a lot in the past few weeks, but you’re evading the issue. What needs to be done to revive Mal Ton?”
He smiled and her heart turned over in her chest. The expression rolled ten years off his face and made his eyes sparkle. Had he suffered a recent trauma or had life in the Underground simply taken its toll on his appearance?
“You’re a woman of action, I take it?”
“The military does that to you.”
“Fair enough.” He clasped his hands behind his back and gazed into her eyes. “When Mal Ton sampled your DNA you were starting to transform. It will take an incredible amount of control to force back the transformation. He’ll need energy and he’ll need you.”
“You said I’m not strong enough.”
“You’re not.” He paused. “But I am.”
“You’re going to fuck Mal Ton?”
“No. I’m going to fuck you while you fuck Mal Ton.”
Chapter Four
Chancellor Howyn slammed into Keller’s office with all the subtlety of a supernova. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, his face florid and blotchy.
“I work here.” Keller folded his hands on his desktop and looked pointedly at the security transmitter. Every room in the chancellor’s headquarters was monitored continually. Howyn should know better.
Aligning his body to block both of their faces, the chancellor waited for Keller to deactivate the audio feed before he went on. “I told you to stay off-world until I sent for you.” He placed his fingertips on the edge of the desk and leaned toward Keller. “Pretty straightforward instructions, yet here you sit.”
“Many of my responsibilities can be handled from a remote location. Some require personal attention. Do you want your lost package recovered or not?”
“Do you finally have a lead?” Howyn straightened his back and jerked on the hem of his jacket. Thank the gods his temper cooled as quickly as it flared.
“I might.”
“Spare me your word games. I’m not in the mood.”
“I’ve yet to determine the value of the new information, but I’m cautiously optimistic.”
“You returned ahead of schedule for ‘cautiously optimistic’?”
Keller kept his expression bland and carefully schooled his tone. “I should know more in a couple of hours.” He was so fucking tired of pacifying this windbag.
The chancellor scowled, his beady eyes all but disappearing in his weathered face. “Run down your lead, boy. And check black-market sources for the counteragent. Whoever intercepted my package should have their hands full right about now. It won’t help, but they don’t know that.”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Howyn grunted his derision. “Our visitors were scheduled for inoculation upon their arrival. If they aren’t given the counteragent soon, your current mission will be pointless.”
“Why weren’t they inoculated immediately after leaving Earth?”
Howyn glared at him. “They were,” he sneered. “The counteragent wasn’t effective in humans. We had to alter the formula, thus the need for the second injection.”
“But how did you—”
“We aren’t having this conversation here. I gave you another possible lead. Get busy. It never hurts to have options. If Cassandra comes through for me though, your mission won’t matter one way or the other.” He left as abruptly as he’d entered.
Keller shoved his chair back and stood. Cassie again. She didn’t intentionally devalue his accomplishments, but her creative mind frequently provided her father with alternatives at the worst possible moment. No matter which path Keller chose, Cassie arrived two steps ahead of him.
Cassie.
He despised her as much as he desired her. She did nothing to attract his attention. Still, he couldn’t banish her from his mind.
He was a mutant, Chancellor Howyn’s pet mutant to be exact. She would never see him as anything else.
If Cassandra comes through for me though, your mission won’t matter one way or the other. The chancellor’s dismissive words helped clear Keller’s mind. What could she possibly do that would render the humans irrelevant?
* * *
Lorelle stared at Fane then snapped her gaping mouth shut. She had always appreciated candor. Still, his bold statement sent her imagination reeling.
“I’ve shocked you.” One corner of his mouth quirked and his gaze sparkled. Was he imagining the act he’d mentioned so casually? Had he and Mal Ton shared women before?
“Do you people do anything but fuck?” Her voice sounded breathless.
“The body produces massive amounts of energy during the release of any strong emotion. Would you rather be angry or terrified, or feel sexual pleasure?”
She’d never thought of herself as a prude, but she was starting to suspect her experience would be considered limited in this star system.
“I’d rather find a different way of ending this crisis.” She rolled up the trailing sleeves of her borrowed shirt, needing something to do with her hands.
“As would I. Unfortunately, I’m a realist. Mal Ton doesn’t just need energy, he needs—”
“Does he need a female or is there something special about me?”
That knowing smile returned. “You’re definitely special.”
“I wasn’t fishing for compliments. I meant—”
“I know what you meant.” He took one of the chairs situated in front of the small desk and moved it beside the bed. “You’re confusing what’s happening to him with your reaction to the virus. They are related, but not the same. He’ll sleep for hours. You should rest as well.”
“None of the women I arrived with speak Standard. I should see how they’re doing.”
“Dressed like that?” He chuckled.
She glanced down at her bare legs then higher. Her nipples were clearly outlined by the shirt. How could she have forgotten her near nakedness? She felt comfortable with Fane. It didn’t make sense, but she was completely at ease with him.
“Sean is downloading your language and the othe
rs are sleeping.”
“Downloading it from where? Earth hasn’t registered with any of the…” He started laughing and she didn’t bother finishing the objection.
“Are you always this obstinate?”
“No.” She looked away before he could see her smile. “I wasn’t just being difficult. How is Sean going to download Earthish?”
“From Andrea of course.”
“She’s here?” It would be wonderful to see her again.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Okay, you lost me. Is he going to Stilox?”
“I didn’t say that either.”
Despite his relaxed manner, he obviously didn’t trust her. She accepted the evasion with a nod. If the situation were reversed, she wouldn’t trust him either.
“Go take a shower then get some rest.”
It wasn’t a suggestion this time. She went into the bathroom and kicked aside her uniform bottom. The top was still covering Mal Ton. She refused to think about what had happened the first time she’d been in this shower. But her body didn’t need the permission of her mind. Her pussy ripened and her nipples tingled. She had never imagined such pleasure was possible.
She removed Mal Ton’s shirt and stepped into the shower stall. As warm water saturated her hair, her thoughts turned inward. Grief and rebellion had driven her into the military, but she soon found the vocation suited her. Life was regimented and disciplined, orderly and logical. She followed detailed procedures and successfully completed missions. She never realized how comforting she found the structure until it had been taken away. After shampooing her hair and soaping her body, Lorelle let the spray soothe her tense muscles.
“Are you doing all right?”
She blinked the water out of her eyes and glanced toward the door. Fane had only opened it far enough to let his voice carry. “I’m fine. How’s Mal Ton?”
“Sleeping, like you should be.”
“I’ll be with you shortly, sir.”
“Mal Ton’s the one who likes to be saluted. I take a more cooperative approach to leadership.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
