“There is truth between us of a sort, then,” Rob said, lifting her chin and looking her in the eye. “Good.” He kissed her. “The rest can come when it will.” He gripped her waist and lifted her, so he could thrust himself back inside her.
Fright tore through Tally as she processed his calm, utterly assured statement. There could be no further truth from her. The danger to Rob, to this world, was too awful to even consider telling him even a small portion of the real truth about herself.
But the sensuality of the moment caught up with her and swept away her fright, overwhelming her with need and the intoxicating pleasure of being taken by this odd anomaly of a man from so far in the past her peers called it ancient history.
Chapter Four
Charbonneau settled himself on the cramped seat and followed Justin’s motions as the agent buckled himself into the complicated x-style belting.
“It always seems like overkill here on Earth,” Justin said. “But you’ll be glad you have them when we leave the atmosphere.”
“The shuttle doesn’t have artificial gravity?” Charbonneau asked, surprised. Artificial gravity, one of the nicer side benefits of FTL flight, had long ago become economical, even planet-side.
“It’s too difficult to maintain gravity against the surges…you’ll see. I’m surprised this is your first beanstalk trip.”
“I just never got around to it.” Charbonneau shrugged, an abbreviated movement under the harness. He looked around the shuttle. He was familiar with the mechanics and theory of the beanstalk from media coverage when it had first been built and installed, about twenty years ago. Justin had been more informative on their journey across the Sydney Harbour Bridge to the station where the beanstalk was rooted.
The cabin was vaguely crescent-shaped, matching the rest of the vehicle. The inner curve of the crescent was where the magnetic and physical pincers grabbed the polymer and steel-fibre banister of the bean stalk. The stalk was four metres in diameter and carried another shuttle on the other side.
That shuttle was at Halfway Station, outside Earth’s atmosphere, at the other end of the stalk. At mid-point along the stalk the two shuttles would pass each other. That would take place sometime after they left the atmosphere, because there was more of the stalk floating weightless in space than there was trailing down to the Earth’s surface.
“I understand the physics that holds this thing up,” Charbonneau said quietly, for other passengers were settling in on either side of them, lining the inner curve of the cabin, facing the windows. “But I confess that the idea of nothing but thin air holding up a very heavy, very large cable seems to smack of heresy and witchcraft.”
“There is no air in space,” Justin pointed out. “So, technically, nothing but dust particles and atomic matter is doing the work. And not much of that, either.”
“You’re very reassuring,” Charbonneau chided him.
Justin grinned. “We can change the subject, if you like.”
The cabin gave a barely-felt shiver and they began to move. Charbonneau found himself gazing out of the windows. “We’re rising so fast!”
Justin stared at him. “This is your first time in space, too,” he said slowly, suspiciously. “You’ve never left Earth before.”
Charbonneau considered lying, then shrugged. “I thought it was finally time,” he said. He glanced at the woman sitting next to Justin, who was staring at them, patently eavesdropping. She smiled at him. An offering.
He smiled briefly back and pulled out his pocket watch to check the time, which allowed him to look away from her without insult.
“We’ll reach Halfway just after midnight, Sydney time,” Justin told him.
“Thank you.” He put the watch away. “It occurs to me that it is perhaps not normal for you, a travel agent, to escort clients up the stalk to company headquarters.”
“It’s not normal for clients to travel to HQ at all,” Justin assured him, dropping his voice so only Charbonneau could hear. “All our clients are human. Nearly everyone at the Agency is vampire. Humans tend to be unsettled by such a concentration of vampirekind and that would be bad for business. So…” Justin shrugged. “Most tours begin and end at the branch where the contract was finalized.” He smiled. “But you’re not here for a tour.”
“Do all new recruits get such red carpet treatment, then?”
“We’ve never had someone come to us before. Sometimes we must seek them out, using the most careful and discreet approaches. Most often, a name is recommended to us via someone already with the Agency and the approach is easier. But each new traveller is such a precious resource, we always shape our welcome to suit them.”
“Can I ask a personal question?”
“Of course.”
“How do you….” He dropped his voice, aware of everyone around them and chose his words carefully. “How did you acquire such a tan? It has puzzled me since we met.”
Justin’s smile broadened. “Sunshine serum,” he murmured.
“You don’t mind the weakness? The headaches? Poor sight? Or does it not affect you that much?”
“All that and more,” Justin confessed. “But for now, passing as human is still sweet. Sweeter than the pleasures of travelling. I believe you know that enticement, yourself. I haven’t researched, but just counting up on my fingers, I figure you’ve been successfully passing for about six hundred years.”
Charbonneau kept his expression neutral. “Something like that,” he said carefully.
Justin’s brow wrinkled. Then it cleared. “So I work to look like a rugged Australian, mate.” He looked out the window. “Ah and there’s the view that makes the slide up the beanstalk worth it,” he said, more loudly. “From here you can see the Bridge and the whole harbour, right out to the Pacific.”
The change of subject was as delicate as every dealing Charbonneau had with Chronologic Touring Inc. A tiny blossom of hope bloomed upon the concealed, despairing landscape of his thoughts.
* * * * *
Tally woke to feel the warmth of sunshine on her face. The tent flap had been lifted enough to allow a small shaft of early morning sun to filter into the tent and it fell directly onto her face, waking her.
She roused slowly, feeling the aches and strains in her body that came from a night of greedy and uninhibited sex.
Rob had been a fast learner. Once he understood that she had few maidenly reservations and possibly knew more about sex and eroticism than he, Rob had suppressed his male, medieval ego and embraced the idea of mutual pleasure with enthusiasm.
Tally sniffed, inhaling Rob’s scent. She was in no hurry to move, yet. The camp was still quiet outside, so it had to be just past dawn. In a moment, she would slide out the tent and go looking for Leuwis, before Rob awoke and realized the rope was no longer attached to her wrist.
She opened her eyes slowly, letting them get used to the sun. She realized then why Rob’s scent was so strong. His plaid was covering her. A makeshift blanket.
She sighed.
“Ye are awake, then.” Rob’s arm tucked in over her waist and cupped her breast. She felt his body heat behind her as he drew closer to her back. The movement of his hand dragged her own hand upwards and she realized with a jolt of surprise that her wrist was already tied to Rob’s. He must have refastened the rope during the night. She tugged on the rope disbelievingly. Even after last night, he had tied her up?
“Ah, Tally, I’m not such a fool that I would leave the rope off,” he murmured, his lips against the back of her shoulder. His fingers stroked her breast, teasing the nipple erect, making her gasp. “Ye said ye would stop at nothing to get ye servant back. I dinna forget that. ‘till I know everything about ye, the rope stays between us.”
Tally sighed. “I suppose I was the foolish one, then,” she whispered.
Rob pushed her knees forward, bending them. Warmth filled her as she guessed his intentions. The head of his cock pushed against the entrance to her pussy then slid inside, feeling la
rger than usual because of the position she was in.
“Mmm, nice,” she said.
“Yes,” he growled. He separated her thighs, giving him access to her genitals and slipped his hand between her legs.
Tally sighed as his fingers stroked her cleft gently, spreading her moisture and working their way deeper inside her folds, until they were rubbing and teasing her throbbing, swollen clit.
Tally arched, her body quivering, as a climax quickly started to build. “Ah, Rob,” she said breathlessly. “You already…know me…too well. Don’t leave yourself…behind.”
“I’ve discovered pleasure in having ye climax around me,” he returned. “I wonder if I can make ye come hard enough if it will make me come, too. I have a ken to try.”
Tally caught at his hand, halting his fingers. “Try something else, then, if that’s your wish.” She rolled her head to look over her shoulder and look him in the eye. His gaze was sleepy, his blue eyes half-hooded, but she had learned that merely was Rob’s look when he was deeply aroused. She quivered in reaction to the sight of him in that state now.
“Try what?” he returned.
“Your shaft. Put it in my other opening and use your fingers for my woman’s opening and my nub.” And she held her breath.
A fine line appeared between his brows. “You have another word for that…opening?”
“Anus,” she supplied. “Ass.”
“Aye, we call it that, too. It’s also the place used by men when they’re together.”
“Yes,” Tally agreed and waited.
Rob licked his lips.
“Do you find the idea appealing?” Tally asked softly.
“I…” He cleared his throat.
Tally clenched around his cock and found it rock hard inside her. Yes, he found the idea appealing. He just needed more coaxing to admit it.
“When you’re inside me that way,” she murmured, “I will be like a tight fist around you. When I come because of what your hands are doing to me, I will close around you even harder. It’s possible you’ll come, just like you wish, Rob. Just from my coming and clenching around you.”
“Sweet Lord…” he breathed. “Tally, your wanton ways will lead me into Hell.”
“Heaven,” she corrected, as he pulled his cock from her. “You’ll think you’ve gone to Heaven.” She kissed him and felt the fine trembling in him that signalled subterranean excitement. “The oil you used last night for your saddle ring—the little pot. You’ll need it,” she told him.
Rob shot her a look that was a mix of surprise and puzzlement, but he silently rose and reached for the little pot of oil as she requested. He was quite naked and unconcerned about the half-opened tent flat, but it was still very early. His well-trained body in the early light seemed to glow with good health. His cock jutted from between his thighs, still glistening with her moisture.
He knelt back beside her, unstoppered the pot and held it out to her.
“You may do the honours, Robert.” She pulled the plaid aside, baring her ass.
Rob gave out an unsteady sigh. “Ye are ever a challenge, Tally.”
“Oh, you will enjoy this,” she assured him. “You need to spread it around the outside of my anus. And inside, too.”
“Inside,” he repeated, sounding almost awed.
His first touch was tentative. Delicate. His well oiled fingers slipped around the taut opening and she drew in a gasping breath. “Deeper,” she urged him. “You will not hurt me.”
A single digit probed gently inside. “Christ,” Rob whispered, his voice hoarse.
“Use two fingers,” Tally told him, her own voice unsteady.
His finger withdrew, then two pushed their way past the muscle. Tally fought not to bear down on him or jerk her hips in reaction. It had been too long. She had forgotten this sweet sensation and the associated pleasures. “Hurry,” she breathed. “That’s enough. Now oil yourself.”
“Ah, gods, Tally,” Rob murmured. She heard the slick sound of oil on flesh and looked over her shoulder. Rob was on his knees, still, and had his hand curled around his cock, smearing the oil along the length of it. Tally caught her breath at the sight.
Rob’s eyes narrowed. “Ye…like to see this?”
“Very much, yes,” she confessed.
He exhaled. “Another layer,” he muttered. He lay on his side behind her and she felt his cock nestled up against her cleft. It was slick and hot and her heart lurched at the touch. Excitement fizzed through her.
“This must be slow,” she warned Rob.
“I know the way of it,” he told her. His cock nudged her anus and pushed up against the ring of muscle. Tally relaxed and his cock slipped inside, the muscle allowing him in. He edged his way deeper, a fraction of an inch at a time, until he was lodged completely inside her.
Tally sighed.
“A fist indeed,” Rob muttered. He lifted her upper leg up and over his knees, spreading her open. “And now I get to play.”
He gave her no time to recoup. His fingers found her cleft and buried themselves in her folds before she had time to draw breath. Tally gasped, her hips bucking, as he invaded her pussy and simultaneously tugged and tweaked her clit.
She gave a small cry as sensations bombarded her, wriggling and bucking as the climax that had been gathering earlier now bloomed once more and swirled closer, bigger and brighter than before.
“Oh, Rob! Oh!” she managed to warn him before the climax hit, bowing her back and locking her muscles all over again.
She heard a strange guttural cry, that she thought was Rob. But then she heard Rob groan as he climaxed and realized she was making that sound. That scream.
As her body relaxed from the orgasm, Rob’s hand gripped her hips and turned her onto her knees. His hands did not release her hips. He thrust into her, his breath escaping him in hard exhalations each time he drove into her, until he gave a shuddering, gasping groan and came again.
He withdrew from her and lifted her up so that she rested against him. His chest was still rising and falling quickly and she could feel his heart racing against her back. His lips pressed against her shoulder and his arms came around her from behind, holding her.
“Ye screamed again, Tally,” he said softly.
She smiled. “You came twice, Rob. The first just as I promised you would.”
He spoke even more softly. “’tis glad I am ye went for mushrooms that day.”
So am I, Tally thought.
But the rope was digging into her wrist where it lay between her forearm and his, a constant reminder of the truth she couldn’t speak aloud.
Chapter Five
Halfway Station was the giant’s house at the top of the beanstalk, in every sense. It was a huge, sprawling, tangled mess of external structural girders and docking ports that serviced every inter-planetary ship that came to Earth. The industrial sections were glued together with living modules, corridors, greenhouses and all the other paraphernalia human life needed to survive in space.
It looked more like a child’s attempt to build something with Meccano than a serviceable, functioning structure through which millions of people poured each year, and in which another five thousand permanently lived.
When the beanstalk shuttle slid up into the belly of it and artificial gravity kicked in, Charbonneau gratefully slid out of the harness. Weightlessness was a curious sensation he was in no hurry to repeat, although vampires couldn’t get sick like humans could.
“We have to hurry now,” Justin told him, moving up the ramp into the main customs hall. “There’s no formalities for us, as we’re going through to the agency. Here.” He indicated a side passage and they both ducked into it. “But we do have to get to the shuttle so we can rendezvous with the Agency as it swings by, which it will do in about thirty-five minutes.”
“Is its orbit very close?”
“Far enough to avoid colliding close enough to make it convenient to get there, if you have to use this way.”
&nbs
p; “There’s another way?”
“They’ll explain that one to you, I’m sure.” Justin strode along the corridor, and turned right into another that intersected. This one lay on the outside of the station and the walls were corrugated and clear, like glass, protected by girders that curved over it.
It gave Charbonneau an unexpected view of Earth. The planet hovered overhead, completely dark except for the shimmer of sunlight on its eastern edge. “Stunning,” he murmured, wishing he could linger to admire.
“Permanent night. Now you understand why the Agency chose the satellite as headquarters.”
Ahead of them and clearly waiting for them, a young man in street clothes stood watching them come toward him. He waved them on. “Ferry is warmed up and waiting. All set to go. Our window closes in five, though.”
“Thanks, Tinker,” Justin told the boy as they drew closer. “This is Constant Charbonneau Villeneuve. Our newest recruit.”
Tinker nodded as he turned to stride down the corridor, leading them. “Yep, I heard all about you. All the women going ga-ga.” He turned his head to look back at them and rolled his eyes. “You’d think we were getting royalty.”
“Tinker,” Justin snapped.
“Well, y’d think, huh? Are you royalty?”
The question was sharply put and it took a second for Charbonneau to realize the lad was speaking directly to him.
“There are no royalty in France. Don’t you remember your history?”
“Remember?” the boy spluttered. He looked at Justin. “He doesn’t know.”
“Know what?” Charbonneau asked.
“I’m human, is what. You vamps, you can live forever, but you make shitty pilots. Your inner ear fluids ain’t fluid. So you don’t get space sick, but you ain’t got balance, either. So you can’t judge worth shit when you have to bring something in and line it up.”
Charbonneau blinked.
Tinker laughed. “You ain’t been around your own kind much, have you?”
Such a casual explanation of a basic function of vampire physiology that he had never even considered before was shocking. But Tinker had already moved on, both physically and verbally. As he moved ahead of them up the passage, he spoke with his chin on his shoulder. “That must be how you survived the Revelation and the Censure, huh? No brethren around you to turn you in when they put the thumbscrews on ‘em.”
Bannockburn Binding (Beloved Bloody Time) Page 5
