by Jodie Becker
"Mine,” he growled.
Kira's nipples pinged at the way he raked a possessive stare over her body. She couldn't take this anymore, she wanted him inside her. Now.
Grasping the back of his neck, she brought him down as she rose on tiptoe. Their lips fused together as she tasted him, a soft moan rumbling forth at the delicious delight. Their tongues danced erotically, the promise of what was yet to come adding to Kira's ardor.
His hands settled on her hips, bringing her flush against the hard plains of his body. His erection pressed against her stomach, and he rocked against her, his breath coming in frantic pants as he did so.
Cool air touched her legs as he moved the skirt of her dress, scooping under it to touch the heat within. Kira hooked one knee against his thigh, opening further as he teased the folds of her labia, delving briefly into her pussy before withdrawing to massage her clit.
Glorious pleasure enveloped her, and she pulled her lips from his to tip her head back. His hot breath tickled her collarbone, and the moist touch of his tongue slid against her neck, prompting a quiver.
Gasping for breath, she undulated against his hand, her nails scraping against his back, making him shiver. “Please, please."
He gripped the strap of her dress on one shoulder and pulled it down, exposing her breast to the splendor of the sun and his gaze. Bending his head forward, he suckled her aching areola. Groaning, she drew her hips closer toward what she truly wanted while one hand sought him out.
Gripping his shaft, she gave it several quick pumps and grinned as he shuddered. “By the Gods,” he muttered.
He released a feral growl and eased her down onto the soft earth. He ravaged her mouth in a frenzy of passion, teeth scraping and filling her with burning desire as she followed his lead. His hands gripped her thighs and spread them wide, her dress bunching around her hips.
The head of his cock tickled the entrance of her femininity before he slid inside. Kira threw back her head, savoring each glorious inch of him as he eased in and out with excruciating precision.
He pulled out, held for a moment, then slammed into her. Kira gasped at the sensations he wrought upon her body with the fierce coupling. Grounding her feet, she found the rhythm and rocked her hips into his, panting with every glide of bliss that shook to her very core.
Sliding her hands into his hair, she stared up at her lover, awed as the sun silhouetted behind his head. Eyes the color of fire glowed upon her, devouring her in their intensity.
He dipped his head and licked the expanse of her shoulder. “La oi. Sela in piktu, ina loho,” he breathed against her neck.
He thrust into her, and Kira let out a moan of delight, lifting her knees high against his waist to allow deeper penetration. Pleasure rose in waves, crashing upon her body and shoring against her skin. The tingling started at the tips of her toes and rolled along her veins, roaring through her body as she screamed.
Kira jerked awake, her pussy still throbbing with sexual fulfillment. Her heart raced in her ears as she stared around the darkened room. Alone. A sob of frustration and confusion ripped forth as she covered her face. What the hell was the matter with her?
Chapter 4
Kira marched down the spiraling stairs toward the training room. The events that had passed in the spa and last night still disturbed her. She'd yet to come up with a feasible explanation for how Luke had managed to get into the bathroom and out in a matter of a split second. However, for with the dream that had haunted her all morning, she could only draw one conclusion. She'd imagined the whole episode. A thought that did little for her pride.
Hitting the ground floor, she crossed the marble foyer toward the training room. Pushing the latticed door open, she stared across the vast hall. Walls of stark white rose high to a peaked point like the old churches on Old Earth. A large circular window, high above the north end of the room, shone shards of light against the cream floor tiles and walls.
Several people stood on the mats, practicing and toning their bodies for combat, their grunts of effort echoing in the cavernous space. Dressed in a sturdy vest and a tie-off short skirt of suede, she was ready to train.
Mirn pulled up behind her. “It looks like Gladiator V1A42 is here."
Heat tingled across her skin as images of her erotic bath titillated her. “Really?” she said, attempting to sound blasé.
Mirn stepped around her and let out an appreciative meow. “Hum, yes.” She pointed at a pair at the furthermost end of the room.
Dressed in serviceable slacks, Luke held a staff, throwing it out to protect himself against his trainer. With amazing agility, Luke blocked every blow the heavily built Gorgian dealt. The trainer's blue skin was slick, his domed head trickling with sweat.
The trainer faked a few jabs before his stick swung out vertically. Luke blocked the downward strike, and with a twist of his wrist, deflected the momentum. Twirling the staff around his body, Luke snapped one side to rest under his armpit while his free hand struck out with warning against his trainer.
The larger man's chest heaved with effort, and Kira suspected they'd been at it for a while. Sweat gleamed off Luke's body, the gold of his skin reflecting even more against the light. As though sensing her regard, he turned his head, his attention latching onto her.
Gasping at the heat that slid through her body and pooled in the pit of her stomach, she drew her back straight and glared at him. In that moment, his trainer swung his weapon and hit Luke in the side of the head with a loud crack. Luke's head snapped sideways as he stumbled and fell to his knees.
Letting out a cry of surprise at the pain that throbbed in her head in sympathy, Kira approached the pair. The large trainer stood over Luke, his obsidian eyes flaring with anger. “Keep your eye on the game. Don't get distracted by a piece of butan that walks by."
Luke looked up at her approach, the molten pupils of his eyes glimmering with ... something. Pushing to his feet with a grunt, Luke turned on the Gorgian. “I am not unfamiliar with underhanded tactics. The next time you do this, I shall have your head."
Gorgian frowned, a perplexed look entering his eyes. “I don't understand you,” he enunciated. He glanced at Mirn, his features twisted with frustration. “How can I work with this man when he refuses to use his chip?"
Kira's brow furrowed. She understood him perfectly, which was odd since no one else did. “He's only trying to teach you, you know,” she said pointedly at Luke.
"Teach me what? That man is deceitful?"
Mirn gripped Kira's elbow. “You understand him?"
Confusion rose up from her gut as her gaze cut between the feline and Luke. “Yes."
"I didn't know you could speak his tongue,” the Gorgian said. “Good. Tell him unless he wants to spend the night in the dungeons, he should activate his chip."
Kira shook her head. “I don't speak his tongue."
Both the trainers looked at each other, the unspoken question hanging thick in the air. Turning on Luke, Kira pushed into his shoulder.
"How come I understand you, but they can't?"
"We are connected."
A scowl drew at her features as she shook her head. He wasn't making any sense. “Connected? What the hell does that mean?"
He held up his forearm, revealing the wound she'd inflicted on him. “You have tasted my spirit."
Her bafflement increased. His blood? She'd tasted other peoples’ blood before in a fight, yet nothing like this had ever remotely happened to her. Suspicion burgeoned in her gut and thickened into a cold lump as her eyes narrowed. “What did you do to me?"
His gaze shuttered, and Kira tensed with apprehension. “What the fuck did you do to me?” she asked, her voice pitching in fury.
"I did nothing. By accepting my spirit, you have accepted my past and my future."
"I didn't accept anything from you. You must be crazy if you think getting your ass kicked signifies something."
His lips quirked in an amused grin, and Kira resisted the urge
to slam a fist into him as confusion and an odd sense of dread fed her anger. He acted as though he was privy to some secret part of her soul.
At odds with herself and unsure if she should say more or leave, she glared at him before doing the latter. “Come on, Mirn,” she said, turning away.
The Gorgian stepped forward, a large hand pressing onto her shoulder, his dark eyes imploring. “I need you to help me get through to him. Tell him to activate the chip."
"Activate your translation chip."
Luke frowned. “Translation chip?"
"Yeah. Everyone has one."
He shrugged. “I do not have this ... chip you speak of."
Kira glowered. “Fine.” She turned to the Gorgian. “He says he doesn't have a chip."
Obsidian eyes widened. “What does that mean? Everyone has one these days.” The alien growled, brushing his palm over his domed head in frustration. “Great. Just great, I get stuck with this miscreant who refuses to speak my tongue. How am I to train him then?"
With a shrug, Kira stepped around him, but the large man's arm snapped out, halting her retreat. “I know, you can help me,” he said, his eyes glimmering with hope.
Kira pushed his arm from her and glanced at Mirn's intrigued expression before glaring at the trainer. “I'm Grade One. I don't want to babysit a newcomer. I have my own training to worry about."
"Just an hour of your time. That's all I'm asking,” he implored.
Mirn stepped forward. “You did lose against him."
Her lips fell in a grim line. “I didn't lose,” she denied, yet the truth left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Damn it! She had lost, and against a newcomer, no less. Her reputation was in ruins for it, and she needed to regain the upper hand. What better way to understand her opponent than learn his way of training?
Lukiamo glanced between Kira and the large man, their heated words virtually raising fire where they stood. What were they discussing? By the way her emerald eyes flashed with fury and indignation, he suspected it had something to do with him.
The feline cat-woman that accompanied Kira stepped toward him, pitched meows coming forth. Pursing his lips, he shook his head in an attempt to express his inability to understand. The woman's tail flicked as the slits of her eyes narrowed, clearly displeased with his lack of interaction. With a final small growl, the woman turned away and retreated to stand beside Kira.
Lukiamo's appreciative gaze ran over Kira's lithe form. Subtly defined muscles and nicely rounded hips beckoned him. Even with her russet locks tied back in a braid, several strands broke free and brushed the column of her neck. Wearing a sturdy set of boots that encased her shins, her legs were mostly exposed, right up to the smooth line of her buttocks that peaked beneath her skirt. Desire swirled through him and hardened his cock as he imagined bending her over and dipping himself into that sweet wet pussy of hers.
Kira's words faltered, and Lukiamo grinned at the gasp that spilled from her ruby lips. Her baffled stare snapped to him, and he grinned at the heated blush that tinged her supple, creamy skin. When she turned back to the large blue man, Lukiamo's gaze fell to the purple bruise on her shoulder, turning his thoughts grim.
The finger marks glared at him, and he ached at the fact that he'd caused her pain. His people didn't bruise easily, and it baffled him to find that a woman of her obvious strength and stature would have discoloration. Of course, little could be done about it when thrust into an arena with no understanding of why he was there. He had to defend himself somehow.
He had little recollection of how he'd arrived on this space station and stadium. But he did remember the night men had broken into his chambers and beat him into unconsciousness. As the Chief, he was skilled in the art of war and individual combat. But the minute a dozen of his very own guard had burst into his room, he had known they meant him ill.
The trip to Qantic had been horrendous, filled with images of a dank, small holding cell and little food or water to sustain him. Exhausted, he'd been dragged from the ship and thrust into the arena to face Kira. Aching through to his very bones, he could do little to fight back and could only protect himself against the she-devil insisting on beating him to death.
Finally, the pair fell silent, Kira's chest heaving and lips pursed in displeasure. Whatever the outcome of the conversation, she wasn't happy with the result. Curious, he tilted his head and observed the large man's smug expression as he held out his staff.
Kira snatched it from him, then faced Lukiamo. “I hope you're happy,” she snapped at him.
Lukiamo's bafflement grew. Happy about what? He would be most happy if he could return home and take this delectable piece to his bed. Again he couldn't help the image of her resting on red satin sheets, her legs splayed wide as he thrust into her. Her cries of pleasure echoed in his mind and he longed to make that image real.
With a grin, he eyed Kira and cast his thoughts, tapping into their telepathic link. In an instant, he transported them to his chambers, her naked body splayed over his bed. Kneeling above her, he clasped onto her knees and drew her legs up and apart, exposing the pink folds of her femininity. The musky scent of her arousal swamped his senses.
Reverently, he ran his hands over the supple skin of her inner thigh, skirting the patch of hair at her apex and sliding up her toned stomach. Her arms spread wide as she arched her back; a soft, frustrated moan brought a smile to his lips.
Breasts that fit perfectly in his palms peaked with rose tipped nipples. His fingers circled each one as they hardened.
Kira panted, and Lukiamo dropped between her thighs, the warm skin of her legs wrapping around his waist. The hair that covered her pussy tickled his lower abdomen, and he growled at the possessive need that speared him. He'd never seen a woman with hair there, and he longed to explore her hidden jewel.
"Please, please,” she groaned.
A loud gong ripped through his thoughts and propelled him back into reality. Lukiamo blinked and glanced around him as the grunts of effort and snap of wooden weapons connecting came into focus. Kira's flushed cheeks washed white as the glaze in her eyes disappeared. Having shared in his fantasy, she too suffered the effects of sexual frustration.
"What the hell...?” she cursed, her suspicious gaze falling on the evidence of his arousal. She swallowed hard. “You did that, didn't you?"
Before he could answer, Kira launched her attack, her staff flying out in a flurry. Stepping back, Lukiamo thrust his weapon forward, blocking her and twisting his wrist to deflect the blow. Holding the wooden baton out, he faced her, his eyes narrowing at the anger that curled back her lips.
Her staff twirled around her body as she took a step forward, and in a sudden move, she dipped forward, manipulating the staff as it speared toward him over her back. Sidestepping, he ducked as she snapped onto a third of the stick, holding it against her arm and swiping it toward his chest. Reacting on instinct, he fell to one knee, his own stick snapping up forty-five degrees, aimed for the middle of her chest.
Seeing the blow coming, she tipped her shoulder back. As it flew harmlessly by her, her hand latched onto the staff while her foot snapped out and cracked his weapon in half.
Left with half a stick, Lukiamo abandoned his weapon, back flipping as she came in for a kick to his chin. Landing on his feet, he eyed her as she twirled the staff, and in a snap of movement, she stabbed it toward him like a sword. Slapping his palms over the tip, he halted its momentum. Gripping the end, he twisted around and slammed his elbow into the wood, breaking it in two.
With a satisfied grin, he held out the shattered piece, taking in the shock that marked her features. Clearly, she'd expected him to lack any real fighting skills.
Casting aside what remained of her weapon, Kira feigned a left jab, and then surged with a right, right, left combination. Stepping back, he evaded her blows and then ducked a roundhouse kick. As her leg flew over, he pushed up, gripping her upper thigh and pushing her off balance.
Kira lan
ded with an “oomph” against the black mat, but quickly recovered as she flipped back onto her feet. On the balls of her feet, Lukiamo watched her body movement, sensing she relied on the illusion of attack. When she put her weight on her back foot, he prepared for an attack. She feigned a kick, her feet switching back and forth until she lurched forward with her shoulder. Grunting as she knocked into him, he twisted away from the impact, rolling with the energy as he came up behind her and rammed into her back, knocking her off-balance.
Falling forward, Kira curled into a ball and rolled along the ground, coming up in one smooth motion. Turning, she presented only the side of her body as she circled him. Sweat beaded on her forehead and chest, trailing into her cleavage, the sight momentarily distracting him and costing him the advantage as she launched yet another attack.
Coming in with a high kick, Lukiamo blocked it as agony reverberated through his forearm. Stumbling back, he managed to catch her movement and ducked a roundhouse kick. Pushing off his feet, he came up with an uppercut toward her stomach.
In a move that surprised him, she twirled around slightly, encased his fist between her ribs and arm, and with a twist, sent him onto the mat. With his hand held captive, he lashed out with his feet, wrapping them around her feet and twisting. With her grounding taken out from beneath her, she fell back with a cry of surprise.
Rolling away from her, Lukiamo was on his feet just as she came out with a knee. Clasping onto her leg before she made contact, he pushed into her, sending her off-balance once more. Both panting from exertion, they stood several feet apart, eyeing each other. With neither prepared to make a move, Lukiamo resorted to forcing her to react. He winked at her. Her reaction, fueled by anger, was instantaneous as she came forward with a high kick. Following with a kick of his own, she ducked and then swiped out with her foot. Leaping back from the attack, he was unprepared as she switched momentum and came at him with another kick, the heel of her boot clipping him in the chin.
