Boca heaved out a large frustrated sigh over Malachi’s teasing, then began swearing under her breath. Normally, her exasperation would have made Chiang laugh, or at least smile. At the moment, it just worried him.
“Leave us while Boca dresses,” Chiang ordered. “Return later and pass the watch to the night watch medic before you retire. I forget who is up in the rotation. Consult the chart.”
“Aye,” Malachi said respectfully, bowing his head and then exiting quickly before either Boca or Chiang caught him smiling broadly over their continued lack of accord.
The moment Malachi disappeared Chiang stepped away from Boca’s side. Even putting that small distance between them was like unplugging his body from a power source.
“You fainted in my arms again. I wish to know if it was to escape me. Do you regret what happened between us?” he asked.
Boca frowned as she studied Chiang’s distress. “Did you think I would not regret?”
“That’s not an answer, Boca. That’s a redirected question,” Chiang said flatly, his tone harsher than he wished, but then his fear about her unhappiness was greater than he knew he would feel. “Just speak the truth so I can hear the words. I am tuned to you now. I see your distress as if it were my own. I would just like to know why you feel as you do.”
“Does your male ego constantly require massive amounts of validation for your bonding performance? It was physically more wonderful than any experience I have ever had with any male before you,” Boca admitted.
“But…?” Chiang prompted, not having any questions at all about the physical part. He wanted to know how her mind. . .her spirit…felt about the matter.
“I don’t want another mate, and I have said this to you repeatedly,” Boca declared. “In light of the potential Sumerian connection I might have accidentally put in place between us today, I will restate my offer of myself as an unrestricted bonding partner for you. I have no problem with being your source of release. There is no reason for your needs to go unmet while we work on untangling our connection.”
“Untangling our connection?” Chiang repeated dryly, walking to the supply shelves and bringing her back the bottom of a medical uniform. “Why wait until some future date to end a connection it is obvious you do not desire? If I am that expendable to you, let’s just end it now. Do not feel forced to be anything to me. Surely an assortment of willing partners can replace one reluctant Sumerian female. Given the situation, perhaps it is best if you spent the night in your own quarters. I will see you at the briefing in the morning.”
Chiang headed out of the room before his temper flared and he started ripping Medical apart.
“Chiang—stop. I meant no disrespect,” Boca assured him, heart pounding at the look of disappointment at her words, but more at the way he pulled his energy back from her. She felt suddenly bereft and alone—truly alone. She wanted his comforting hand on her again. She suddenly felt like she was going to weep if it didn’t happen. Her gut churned with needs she didn’t have the power to fight.
“That’s part of the problem, Boca. I am willing to give everything I am to help you and keep you from harm. Yet you can’t admit you return my desire even though we both know you do. My disappointment over the situation is too keen to hide after today, so excuse me if I feel the need to be alone and without your negative outlook for a while. I’ll see you tomorrow. We’ll figure out how to fake things for the mission,” Chiang said and walked quickly away.
After Chiang left, Boca lifted the pants Chiang had given her and slid them on before lowering herself to the floor. The moment her bare feet hit the cold metal surface, she started sniffling. The tears flowed faster as she bent to roll up the pants that were twice the length she needed. All she could think of was Chiang hating the compromises she had to make when nothing on the ship ever fit her. She remembered the many threats he had made about ordering the bursar to find proper sized clothing for her form.
“I agree it will be nice to go live on a planet where I can have clothes that fit again some day,” she said, rubbing the moisture from her eyes.
She pulled the used covers from the medical table, wadded them up, and marched them to the sanitation device. She crammed them in and punched codes for cleaning.
Rubbing her eyes again, she grabbed fresh medical table coverings from the shelves and marched back to the bed with them.
Then to her horror, instead of replacing the covers, she laid her face down on the bare table to weep. “What is the matter with me?”
“For one thing, your spirit is not aligned with your will. I can’t tell you how many creatures try to get by in that condition. It never works. To be torn is the worst of torments, and I should know after two thousand years,” Malachi said flatly, pushing off the wall where he had watched Boca for several minutes. “It’s quite depressing seeing you weep over the Greggor. Was he really that wonderful?”
“I am not going to discuss my bonding with Chiang,” she said, sniffling.
Malachi made a sound of sympathy. “You poor thing. He was, wasn’t he? The Greggor was every bit as good as the other females said he was. That must make it really hard for you to keep sending him away, especially when all he wants is you now.”
Boca reached out a hand and smacked Malachi as hard as she could in the chest. He didn’t even flinch or move. Earlier that day, though it seemed a lifetime ago, she’d sent Ensign Karr limping away from a fight with less of a tap.
“My body even betrays me now,” she mourned.
“That’s because your pride betrays your spirit’s truth,” Malachi said, pulling her into his arms and hugging her trembling form. “Next door, an angry and rejected male paces and waits for you to come to your senses. I suggest you do it quickly, for both your sakes. This self-deceit you practice is completely unacceptable. You two need each other to survive.”
Malachi pushed her away and squeezed her arms. “Now. Do you regret being with him or not? Tell the truth to me. Just say it out loud and be free of the burden of holding it in.”
“No,” she whispered softly, hot tears flowing. “But…”
“No—no more doubts. Just go tell Chiang that you don’t regret what happened. Without him, you are a weak, fearful female. The Greggor makes you strong. Haven’t you realized that he gives you his strength every chance he gets? It is the way of mates, Boca Ador,” Malachi counseled.
“It was never that way with the others,” Boca said sadly.
“Because the other males took from you and gave nothing in return,” Malachi said. “Rogan Ador never gave you anything you needed. Did he?”
“No. Nothing,” Boca said flatly.
“Has Chiang ever taken without giving?” Malachi asked, the question sticking in his throat, but he forced it out. He frowned hard at her shaking head and streaming eyes.
Oh, how he hated doing the right thing when it was so opposed to what he wanted. His urge was to pick up the tiny Sumerian and cradle her close until she felt able to handle the world…and perhaps him in the process. But his relationship to the Sumerian was not to be and not allowed. He had felt it in his spirit, his energy, and even his host body. She belonged to the Greggor, and with the Greggor.
Malachi reached out and turned Boca around, putting both hands on her shoulders as he bent to whisper in her ear. “A real warrior shows no weakness, not even to the male who can cause her knees to shake with a withering look. Now march your arse next door and apologize to Chiang for holding back the truth from him. Then stroke his ego along with whatever else needs attention until you both feel better.”
“But…”
“No more hesitations, Boca. A real warrior is decisive too. Do I need to have a talk with Commander Jet and Ania about their lack of mental training? Do I need to get involved?” he demanded. “I assure you I will not be as easy on you. I will root out every secret you hide and make you face them all again.”
“No. I am not afraid, but….Fine. Okay. You’re right. I should tell him the tr
uth…I…,” Boca walked to the wall, stopped and turned. “Will you open Chiang’s door for me again? I don’t think he’ll let me in otherwise. He was very angry…and disappointed in me.”
Malachi rolled his eyes. “You just have to give that hormonal male more reasons to hate me right now, don’t you?”
“I’ll tell him I forced you to do it,” Boca offered.
Malachi snorted. “Oh yes. I can see a Greggor in mating heat believing that one.”
“He is not in mating….” Boca stopped when Malachi lifted his finger. “Why must it be that way?”
“I don’t know. Understanding Chiang’s role in your life is your puzzle to solve, not mine. I’m just the soother of weeping females,” Malachi said bitterly, stopping by Chiang’s door and motioning for her to turn away. “You know the routine.”
Boca compliantly looked away until she heard the door lock click.
“Thank you, Malachi,” she said softly, pushing open the door to hear the cleansing unit in operation. The thought of Chiang unclothed sent color into her face and heat to her loins.
“Is that fear I smell?” Malachi asked briskly, pretending to sniff the air around them. “No. Silly me. It’s just a tiny, dirty Sumerian who could use a cleansing. Off with you now.”
His hand shot out to push her inside, but Boca surprised him by smacking it away sternly. Malachi laughed and stepped back.
“I’ll do this myself. Thank you. Now—go away,” she ordered.
Malachi rolled his eyes. “Weeping, frustrating, and bossy. I think I’m going to go talk to Rena Trax. I prefer ‘creepy’ over ‘weepy,’ as any rational male would.”
Boca rolled her eyes in return, stepped through Chiang’s doorway, and closed it gently on the male grinning at her still.
Chapter 14
Chiang stood with hands braced on the wall of the thankfully large cleansing stall, too physically frustrated with desire to rest, too mentally frustrated to do anything to relieve himself. The meditation for peace rose inside him, and he found himself praying aloud even though he felt like an idiot standing naked in the shower doing it. The cleansing solution would keep recycling for as long as he stood there, but it was a waste of energy on a ship to keep anything running longer than was needed.
“Chiang?”
He swung from the wall to find a completely nude Boca standing in front of him.
“I…” she looked at the floor and then back up at him. “I don’t regret my time with you. I am angry at myself, and at you, because I don’t want to want you, but I do want you, and I…don’t regret it. Okay? I’m here because I want you still. This is the truth.”
At her garbled confession, Chiang pushed off the wall, every muscle in his body hard and aching for her. He’d seen other Greggor males endure the mating urge. He’d seen them adapt and adjust to the responsibility such a bond brought. Not once had he ever envied the state, nor wanted that kind of connection—at least not before this female appeared.
And never had he even thought about children, but he could clearly see having his sons and daughters with Boca. He knew he would enjoy watching her tiny body grow large with his child even though he would spend every blasted moment of her gestation cycle worried sick about it. Wanting Boca Ador was like contracting a Sumerian disease. Yes. That was it exactly. Sumerian females probably carried some trait that addicted the males they drew. If so, just how sick was he with his Boca disease?
When she lifted trembling arms to him, Chiang covered the remaining three steps it took to reach her before he realized that his feet had moved. He hefted her up into his arms, spun, and pinned her back against the nearest wall. All the while she trembled. In fear or in desire, Chiang couldn’t be certain. Just once, he thought, just once he’d like her to come to him strong, confident, and completely willing.
“After all that has passed between us, are you still afraid of our connection?” he demanded, pressing evidence of his need between them.
He thought she must be lying when she shook her head slowly from side to side, but he could discern no real physical fear.
“Then what concerns you? Tell me so I can help fight your fears,” Chiang demanded, his voice rougher than he would have liked. It only seemed to frighten her more. When hot tears rolled down her face and dripped between their bodies, he laid his forehead on hers.
“Boca, my spirit is aching. Talk to me,” he implored. “Your emotional pain is my undoing. I want nothing more than to alleviate your suffering.”
“I fear losing myself because you are the first male in my entire life that I’ve ever wanted to please,” she admitted quietly. “This time—this time if I become a mate—I will be enslaving myself.”
Chiang swore softly and shook his head, his forehead moving side to side against hers. “It will never be that way with us,” he promised. “I swear by the Creators.”
“You can swear all you want. It is still impossible for me to believe you,” Boca said.
“All I want to do is share what you let me. And if you want to leave one day, then I swear I will let you go when you feel you must. Now grant me permission to pleasure you so we can be joined again,” Chiang implored.
“Fine then. Show me your need and let me make up for my denial. Take me as is your Greggor custom for a mate. I am aware of what liberties females grant,” Boca demanded, sniffling.
Chiang’s shook his head again, even as the exciting thought of doing as she suggested rippled through him, igniting his interest in more ways than he could keep hidden from her. His need of her already throbbed between them.
“It’s okay. Take me, Chiang. I wish to be conquered so I can release my guilt over hurting you with my coldness earlier. Tomorrow, and the days to follow, this may not be the case. So I advise you to take advantage of this offer which I make only to atone,” she whispered against his full lips, finally latching onto his bottom one and sucking.
When he tore his mouth from hers, she felt one moment of real fear over the possessive look he gave her, and then he impaled himself inside her in a single hard, burning thrust. She hadn’t been ready to receive the full length of him yet, and it had not been wholly pleasant, but even so, in two more silky strokes she was panting.
“Take down your hair,” Chiang ordered, burying his lips on Boca’s neck as he pushed her body against the wall. He paused moving to enjoy their bodies being connected. “Do it now, Boca. I will wait.”
Her hands slipped pins out and moments later her hair fell in a tumble between them. Chiang looked at it and at her.
“Vulnerability is your best adornment, Boca Ador. If I didn’t need you to ease this enormous ache in me, I would show you what it is like to be a revered female,” he said, pushing high and hard, sliding her tiny body easily up the wall. “But now all I can do is take what you offer. It will not always be this way. You may release your guilt.”
He pushed again and again, grateful to feel the electricity building.
“Next time, I will teach you to receive all the pleasure I want to give you. And you will let me,” Chiang ordered, building speed and a rhythm that had her gaze narrowing.
Her lips parted to release tiny sighs of relief. He knew just how Boca felt because his relief was a mirror. Being in her was like being home.
“This arrangement may only be temporary, but by the Creators, for the moment I am your mate. Now seek your pleasure as I seek mine. I command you to do this,” he declared harshly, sealing the declaration with his mouth on hers, absorbing whatever protest she might have made.
Then he grabbed a handful of her hair, wrapped it around his arm, and turned loose of all the fear he’d had when she hadn’t answered him before. Her shoulders braced against the wall as she arched her back, her eyes opening just enough to meet his heated gaze.
“So be it,” she whispered, the words hot in her throat. “Pleasure me if you can then, Greggor. I am a Sumerian. We are not your average breed of female, nor easily satisfied. I accept your temporary offer.�
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“Great. Now give me your tongue—willingly this time,” Chiang demanded.
Her hands held his face as her mouth found his, her tongue sliding between his lips, matching his pounding rhythm with one of her own. He had a moment of worry that he was hurting her, only to have her grip his hair in return and whisper “harder” before tongue dancing again.
When the release came for him, it hit him everywhere. Then the throbbing inside her increased until Chiang tore his mouth from Boca’s to yell a second time. That rolled and rippled through him, and he felt her raising and lowering herself on him still. A hand on his chest stroked a line of heat down the front of him that had everything tightening again. He went dizzy for a moment and then his body surged to meet her demands.
“Harder. And faster this time—much faster,” Boca demanded roughly, closing her eyes when Chiang finally complied.
When she shattered a few moments later, Boca gripped his shoulders and moaned. The vibration covered them both and had Chiang falling against her, pushing her into the wall, barely able to brace them up with his palms while she clung to him.
“Slaggika,” he said fiercely, bending his head to nestle into the crook of her shoulder.
“You don’t even know what that means,” Boca said on a snort, laughing at the complete absence of tension in her limbs at last. It had been two hundred years or more since she had let herself want a male in the smallest way. She felt drunk, completely and utterly drunk. . .and from bonding. Chiang did this to her with his expertise. It was outside everything she understood, but her dizziness and sated body were a testimonial. The energy between them now hummed.
“Slaggika,” she repeated, giggling as she echoed his exclamation.
“Truly, I don’t know what the word means in Sumerian, but I know you say it when you are very surprised,” Chiang said.
The Healer's Kiss: Book Four of the Forced To Serve Series Page 18
