by Lilly Cain
After this was over and she had recovered her rank, and the mission was complete, she wouldn’t need him. She’d be back to the kick-ass, proud warrior he knew was under this vulnerable exterior. And he had no idea how they could work their lives together, with their own responsibilities, but damn if he wasn’t going to try.
They stopped at the empty table. John dropped down onto the low couch. Sarina joined him, but she sat near the edge and he jerked in surprise as the couch moved under them, lifting to support his back and curving around her calves. A small table rotated around the couch and positioned itself under Sarina’s hands.
“Distilled Rothan for two, and a plate of crusties.”
“What’s that?”
“Just snacks. And a liquor. I think I need a drink.” She smiled at him, but it didn’t look right. She was nervous, far more worried that this wasn’t going to work than he was worried about performing in public. The realization was reassuring, somehow.
He shifted toward her and the couch accommodated—changing from a back support to a more cupped design. He almost rolled with it, right into her. She responded with a snort of laughter, but her heated skin felt like silk against his. Without thinking, he reached out to cup her breast.
“This seat is a sterali—it moves with you. It’s programmed to try and anticipate your needs.” Her mental voice was tinted with amusement.
He smiled at her. “You could have warned me. But I do like where I ended up.”
“Thank you for doing this—”
John broke the thought off with a kiss. He caught her lips with his, held her still and took her deeper. Across his thoughts he sent a wave of desire to her, telling her without words or even images how much he wanted her, to touch her, to devour her. He wondered if she could also feel how he hoped it might not end with the mission, but even that thought left him as she kissed him back. Only the realization that someone was waiting for their attention pulled him back into reality.
A smiling Inarrii female placed a tray of large orange and green flakes on the small table, along with a bottle of amber liquid and two short glasses. She left without a word, but not without taking a roaming glance at their embrace. Sarina didn’t move but he felt her tense beside him, and wondered if she was reacting to his anxiety. He reached for the liquor and poured them each a drink. The fluid coated the glasses with a thick, clinging viscosity, and he eyed it with an exaggerated suspicion, enough that Sarina relaxed again in amusement.
“Distilled Rothan liquor. And basal chips. I think you’ll like them.”
“Sarina, I don’t care a bit about them. I’m not hungry for anything but you.” John sent the statement with as much calm sincerity as he could express. But he took a gulp of the liquor when she said nothing back. Fire burned down his throat with the single swallow and he felt his eyes tear up. The liquor seemed to hit his belly like a lit match, but instead of burning him further it flamed a path of desire straight to his balls. Liquid courage.
Sarina sipped at her drink, obviously acquainted with its strength. He took a finger and dipped it into the liquor. The Rothan clung to his skin. He reached over to trace the L’inar along Sarina’s neckline with the tip of his wet finger. Immediately she focused on him, and her nerve lines reacted to his touch, rising in shallow ridges that followed his caress.
He touched his lips to the path he’d created. He licked her, savoring her lemony skin mixed with the heady bite of the liquor. He opened his mind to hers further, let her see herself as he viewed her. Delicious. She lifted her chin and allowed him to lick at her neck. He nipped at the ridges there, and she sighed a breathy moan. The sound drove desire through him faster than the liquor had.
John lowered his mouth to her breast. Round and firm, the thin ridges there enhanced the curves of each breast and drew him slowly to their center, where he found her nipples hard and yearning against his mouth and hands. He pinched her nipples, pulled them between his fingers until her wispy sighs became graveled moans.
He nudged her—her eyes were closed. “Sarina, lay back.”
She stretched out and the coach shifted, molding itself to her until she lay exposed to him, her breasts thrust into the air and her neckline exposed. John admired the picture she presented—a woman on the verge of surrender. Only one thing marred his view and he began to work at removing the pettan from her hips. Behind him he sensed that he wasn’t the only one admiring the view.
Sarina lifted her hips and allowed him to pull off the short cover of her pettan. He dropped it to the floor beside him and pushed her knees apart. Her naked pussy invited him closer, the thin lines of her L’inar as beautiful as if they’d been brushed on by an artist, but he took a minute to collect another finger full of the Rothan. Sarina gasped as he dripped it on the rising ridges that decorated her inner thighs. He leaned into her and felt the couch give way beneath him, almost dividing so he could settle into the apex of her legs. Sarina lifted her head to meet his glance.
Oral sex between Inarrii meant commitment. But only if she took him into her mouth and swallowed his come would they be permanently mated. Drawing her close to orgasm now with his mouth would ensure no one misunderstood his intent.
“Don’t…” Sarina trailed off as he licked at her thighs, sucking every drop of liquor off the hardened ridges of her L’inar. Whatever protest she’d thought of was lost. Her m’ittar opened to his and he felt the first line of pleasure on his thighs as her experience was mirrored onto his skin.
He groaned, his cock hardening instantly inside his pettan. It was now or never. Audience be damned. Sarina was his, and he was going to have her now. He pulled at the ties to his pettan, finally freeing himself.
* * *
Sarina lost herself to his touch. The Rothan liquor burned slightly when it touched her nerve lines but John’s soft tongue licked away the pain in a slow transfer to ecstasy that made her both want to scream and to beg him never to stop. His mouth against her L’inar was the beginning of a mating ceremony. He couldn’t know what he was doing, what he was saying to her with these actions, but since their goal was to prove a temporary mating, it was enough that she give in to the moment, give in to him. His mental caress was another source of pleasure. She caught glimpses of herself, displayed on the sterali couch like the next course in his meal.
They’d caught the attention of a half-dozen viewers; a human-Inarrii mating was fairly new. The humans in the room stared at them as well, probably shocked by the action of one of their own. John didn’t seem to care and she absorbed that strength from him, made herself stronger as hope grew within her.
Her L’inar had stiffened to their full height. Each touch, even the careless brush of the back of his hand as he reached for more Rothan, brought a jolt of pleasure to her and she trembled as he lowered his lips to the final curving lines that traced to the edge of her sinaa. When he laid his tongue against the point where the lines intersected, she cried out, “Ya’sai lenali. More!”
John dragged his mouth over her, licking her sinaa from one end to the other. She reached out, grabbing the sides of the sterali until it began to protrude hard edges she could cling to as John ravished her. This couldn’t last, she couldn’t come yet, but he didn’t stop. He sucked at her sinaa and slid two fingers up into her core. She convulsed around him. A minor peak of ecstasy, but he didn’t allow her to catch her breath.
A murmur of sound caught her attention. A larger number of Inarrii were watching than she’d expected, even though she knew there would be many aware of her condition. They would be curious to see if there was a way to overcome it. She tried to focus again on John. He was oblivious to the crowd, but he knew she’d lost her pace. He rubbed at the joining spot of her L’inar and stretched his body out against hers. His cock lay full and heavy against her thigh.
“Sarina. Stay with me.” His thoughts were thick with desire and pleasure washed
over her like a wave as she realized that through their mirror link he was still experiencing the minor peak of orgasm she’d reached. The sounds of the dining room faded again as she concentrated on him. She ran her hand over his arms, feeling the silk of his body hair. She took her time, touching him as he touched her, each of their actions duplicated by the other as they reacted to her L’inar and to his human senses together.
She found it again. That pressure within her, or within him. It wanted to break free, explode in a burst of pleasure. She lifted one leg and invited him inside her. Their minds were one—he knew what she wanted and he rolled his hips to meet her, his thick cock pressing and rubbing against the tight bands of the nerve lines on her thighs. It was impossible to tell where her pleasure ended and hers began.
She rolled over him in a quick move, and the sterali flattened under them. She lifted her hips to center herself over him. In a quick plunge she covered him, his cock parting the folds of her sinaa as widely as possible. She cried out and her voice met his. She rocked, and he thrust, the friction between them hotter than the Rathan liquor. They stroked together, finding a rhythm that blended desperation and ecstasy. Her L’inar were rippling, burning, battering her with pleasure until the pressure within him give way. Like a flood wave, his orgasm released hers and she shuddered above him.
Chapter Eleven
John held Sarina to his chest. She shivered against him and he pressed his lips against her hair and kissed her. They were still linked. He’d felt everything—her hope, her desire, the exhilaration as she built toward her orgasm and the joy she’d felt as she reached her final peak and toppled over. They’d done it. And he didn’t miss the tiny hint of melancholy that tainted her realization that she’d achieved what she wanted.
Carefully he raised his mental shields, enough that he could keep some of his thoughts and emotions private. Perhaps she was concerned their relationship would be over soon. He grinned to himself. No way was he giving up now.
“Mr. Bennings.” The address reached him through his thoughts and he looked up to see his CIC had joined the crowd watching them. It was still a crowd, although some had begun to wander away.
John winced slightly as he wondered what CIC Johanness thought of his all-in approbation of Inarrii sexual customs. “Commander Johanness.”
“Please, don’t get up.” Her dry voice had Sarina’s nerve lines flattening against him. He wondered if she realized who was addressing them.
“Thank you. I had thought we would be meeting later.”
“Evidently. I will see you in an hour.”
John watched the small woman stride away and wondered just how red his cheeks must look. What the hell had she been doing in the dining hall? He glanced around the room at the remaining people. Most had returned to their meals or found something new to occupy them after John and Sarina’s demonstration. One person caught his attention. A human man, his shipsuit nearly a size too small for the heavy girth of his stomach, sat alone at a table near the corner of the room. His shoulders were bowed and he drummed his fingers nervously against the sterali couch. Annoyance and disgust simmered in John’s stomach as he realized the traitor they’d been looking for had been watching them, was still watching as they cuddled on the couch.
“Davis is here. That’s him over there. Can you alert someone to have him picked up?”
“Absolutely. And, John, thank you.”
He kissed her forehead. “Don’t think you’re getting off that easily. That was my commander-in-chief here a minute ago. She’s going to fry my ass for sure, and you, you are going to owe me yours.” He sent a quick picture of her lying across his lap while he spanked her, and then watched in satisfaction as the nerve lines rippled across her back.
Idly he stroked the swirling curve of L’inar on Sarina’s shoulder. She snuggled in against him, apparently in no hurry to move as they waited for an Inarrii guard to collect Davis. They didn’t have to wait long, and John’s mission tech didn’t make any objection as they took him away, despite the fact that he hadn’t been responding to John’s normal contact codes.
“Okay, time to move. I don’t think I can handle lying here naked much longer.”
“Really? I thought we might stay and enjoy our chips. Perhaps try a little massage…” Sarina trailed off, leaving him with an image that made getting up a much more embarrassing procedure.
“You are so going to pay for that.”
She laughed, a full-throated sound he hadn’t heard much of from her. He had to fight the urge to hug her close. “Much as I like the sound of that, I’d prefer it to be in a more private setting, and after we’ve dealt with Davis.”
* * *
Sarina studied the human male. He was not what she’d imagined of a terrorist spy. For that matter, he was not what she would have thought John’s mission tech—a man who acted as the intelligence behind John’s dangerous missions over the years—would look like. Davis sat on the lone chair in the holding cell, his arms held behind him with the familiar glow of force-bindings. He stared back at her. Something seemed off. He didn’t seem afraid that he’d been caught.
John waited on the other side of the cell. He’d wanted to come in, but he was too angry to deal with someone who used to be his friend. Sarina was tempted to probe the man’s mind, to glean from him what would make him cross a man like John. John was strong, intelligent and honorable—everything a warrior should be. More, John was handsome, attractive to both humans and Inarrii. She admired him, desired him and wasn’t disappointed she would continue to owe him after this mission. Her clan would understand that she needed to discharge the service. Perhaps they could work together for some time to come. Working with John would be exciting.
A small sound brought her attention back to her prisoner. Perhaps Davis had been jealous.
The holding cell force field buzzed behind her, allowing Examiner Salis Fiiten to step through the shimmering wall of power. He nodded to her and she shifted slightly uncomfortably in his presence. The Inarrii had tried hard to counsel her, to bring her to a point where she could find total release, but the best he’d been able to do was to help her to meditate enough to find a relaxation point. With John that wasn’t a problem, but she had to wonder if the Examiner had a problem of his own since he couldn’t find it within himself to initiate a mirror link. With his training it should have been possible, and she was certain now that the rare link was part of her cure.
“Ricardo Davis, you are charged with treason. How do you plead?”
For the first time, Davis looked shaken. His eyebrows jerked in surprise at the Examiner’s statement. Before he could say anything, Fiiten continued, “You must be aware that you will be tested for the truth of your words. I will be examining your memories and emotions to verify your account.”
“What is this about?” Davis scowled at them. “I demand human representation.”
“That is not necessary. These proceedings are being witnessed.” Fiiten took a step closer to Davis, extending his hand to touch the human’s shoulder. He would initiate m’ittar quickly through touch and force the truth. There was no time for polite behavior. The signing of the Human Accord was only a day away.
The heavy human male was sweating now and he strained to hold himself away from Fiiten’s touch. But there was no escape—the force-bindings held him against his chair, and that was bolted to the floor.
The force screen buzzed again. Sarina glanced back at the shimmering wall in surprise as John and his Commander-In-Chief walked through the opaque field.
“You have your human representation.” Commander Johaness spoke to Davis, but Sarina’s eyes never left her prisoner. If anything, he was sweating more now than before, his anxiety reaching a level that was almost palpable.
Sarina glanced back at John and the Commander. John’s face was unreadable, but within his eyes she caught t
he hint of repressed anger. She opened her m’ittar to him and found that their connection had strengthened. He didn’t shut her out now, not completely, and she caught the complex emotions within him—confusion over Davis’s betrayal and the wish for them all to be wrong about the man’s guilt. The repressed desire to protect a man John had worked with for years.
“Did you pass on information regarding Agent John Norton’s mission and whereabouts to the group called Terran Purity?” Examiner Fiiten addressed Davis aloud, apparently for Johaness’s sake. He reached out and laid a hand on top of the prisoner’s head.
“No!” Davis struggled slightly and then held still as Fiiten made contact. “No, I didn’t. I wouldn’t! John is my agent, my responsibility.”
Sarina felt John tremble through their telepathic link. Johaness shifted, taking a step closer to the interrogation chair. Sarina frowned. The human commander was too interested…too close. Sarina’s L’inar jumped in alarm. The woman made a move to pull something from the inner pocket of her dress uniform.
Time seemed to slow down. Fiiten turned as Johaness took another step toward him and Davis’s bound form. Fiiten was staring at the commander, his expression darkening. John made a grab for his officer, only to be thrown backward by an almost casual backhand blow from the woman.
Sarina leaped, tackling Johaness as she freed a small hand laser from her pocket and took aim. She slammed the slender human to the floor. The laser fell from Johaness’s grasp, skittering across the tough perma plas surface. The tiny woman snarled in anger and punched Sarina in the face, stunning her with the power of the blow. Realization dawned as Johaness threw her off. This was not a human female.
Sarina staggered to her feet as Johaness surged toward Fiiten and the helpless Davis. Reaching Fiiten first, the woman slammed a punch to the Examiner’s midsection that had him gasping for breath. Sarina pulled the single knife she wore on board the Horneu and dashed into the fray. Swinging hard, she caught Johaness by surprise, managing to stab her in the shoulder with the dash’tet, but the weapon lodged in the bone and Johaness lashed out again, kicking Sarina’s knee and forcing her to the ground.
