by Mina Carter
He didn’t. Instead, he drove her to the edges of her endurance, rubbing and teasing until her hips rocked and the moans that rolled from her lips merged into one soft sound of need. It didn’t take long, her orgasm rushing up faster than it ever had and then she was there, balanced on the precipice.
And he moved his hands.
“No!” She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her. So close. She needed him to touch her, stroke more. Take her over the edge and into the rolling abyss of pleasure that awaited when she fell.
He grunted, moving behind her, and then her attention was all on the broad head of his cock where it pressed against her. Not for long. Adjusting himself, he pushed his long, thick length into her in a single, hard stroke.
“Fuck!” she gasped, fingers curled into claws with pleasure. He was big, so big, but she loved the feeling of being stretched. The throb of her pussy around his cock. The friction the tight fit afforded. Even the burning pleasure-pain when he first entered her.
“That was the idea. Or did you have something else in mind?” As he spoke, he pulled back and thrust again, drawing out the tight, burning ecstasy of his initial penetration. She was back to biting her lip, trying to contain her sounds of pleasure.
With her bent over in front of him, he set up a hard and fast pace, slamming into her over and over. She couldn’t move, but she didn’t care. Her body was a mass of hypersensitive nerve endings all attuned to his every movement. Tightness coiled within her, drawing into a tight knot in her core.
Reaching around her, one large hand covered her left breast, tweaking and pinching the nipple. A line of fire arrowed down to her clit, making it throb, as though it and her nipple were connected. She panted, shoving her ass back against him with each thrust. That was it. Wouldn’t take her much longer. Just a little more.
He reached around with the other hand, sliding it between her thighs and tweaked her clit.
It was all she needed.
She shattered, screaming his name as she came.
Chapter Three
When Cat and Tarrick rejoined the rest aboard the vessel, they were well underway and everyone was gathered in the common area at the back of the ship. All eyes turned toward them as the door opened, and Cat ducked her head, cheeks flaming at the knowing looks the women shot them. The warriors were either clueless or far too worried about Tarrick’s reaction to bat an eyelid.
They wore leather uniforms, but with the jackets unzipped to show their hard, sculptured chests. When they’d left their quarters, she’d thought Tarrick was just lazy. Now though, she realized it was more than that. The half-undressed deal seemed to be more akin to casual dress for them.
“Ey, ey…the lovebirds return,” Kenna smirked as Cat slid into the seat next to Jess, which earned her a play cuff around the ear from Jane behind her. She ducked, laughed, and stuck her tongue in her cheek while hollowing the other in the universal gesture for a blowjob.
“There’s always one.” Cat sighed, shaking her head at the woman’s antics and took the glass Jess held out to her. “What’s this?”
“Tastes like lemonade,” Jane answered, lifting her glass in salute. “Just be careful and go slow. It’s got quite the kick, as you can see.” She nodded toward Kenna, who bristled with indignation. “I am not drunk!”
Her denial fell on deaf ears because right at that moment Laarn chose to remove his jacket. Instantly he had the attention of every woman in the room. Like Tarrick, he was tall, broad-shouldered and heavily-muscled. Unlike Tarrick, he had shoulder length dark hair that brushed his shoulders.
And scars.
Everywhere.
They crisscrossed his pecs and over his arms. Fine scars like lace over his skin, old and faded, but that still looked painful. Farther down, deeper marks highlighted his rib cage, also healed and old. A single, thick scar ran down the center of his chest, reminiscent of old style open-heart surgery back on earth. It trailed down, disappearing under the low cut pants.
“Fucking hell…” Kenna murmured what they were all thinking. How much had he suffered? And why?
Unable to tear her eyes away as Laarn folded his jacket and turned to a kitchenette in the corner of the room, Cat leaned toward Tarrick, seated next to her. “What happened to him?”
Tarrick leaned against the padded back of the seat, arm spread behind her. “All healers have them. From their trials.”
She looked at him, not bothering to hide her shock. “I thought you said it was holo-stuff…simulation? That he wasn’t actually hurt?”
“No, he wasn’t. But the injuries were real to the mind, which caused a reaction in the body.” Tarrick’s expression was neutral. “It’s why we never use lifelike avatars. It’s the same technology. If we used something that felt too right, too similar to our real bodies and the machine ‘dies’ we’d die too.”
The shudder rolled from her toes, raced up her spine, and crawled over her scalp. “So becoming a healer could have killed him?”
Tarrick’s expression was blank and polite, but Cat was quickly coming to realize the Lathar put up a mask when they wanted to hide something, much like humans. She stayed silent and kept eye contact, a trick she’d learned years before. Most people felt uncomfortable and automatically filled the silence. A quick flare of lighter gold in his eyes told her that he knew what she was doing, but finally he gave a small nod of his head.
Not to be outdone by Laarn, Karryl started to strip his own jacket. Like the rest of the Lathar, he was tall and heavily muscled but…bigger. He made Laarn and Tarrick seem like greyhounds in comparison. Kenna, well through her glass of the alien lemonade, wolf-whistled in approval as the warrior strutted his stuff, eyes on Jane.
“See, female? Your companions find me appealing,” he said, puffing his chest out.
Kenna muttered something, catching an elbow from Jess for it and toppled over backward off the bench.
Jane shook her head. “She’s drunk. She’d find anything with a dick appealing.”
“Hey!” Kenna complained from the floor. “I resemble that remark!”
“Karryl, if you’re finished trying to show off?” Laarn’s voice cut through the banter like a heated knife through butter. “I’m trying to show the women what food they’re likely to be offered at the Emperor’s court.”
At the word food, the women in the room were all ears, even Cat. So far she’d eaten what Tarrick ate, which was some field ration slop that tasted a bit like porridge. After a couple of days on the stuff, she’d kill for something with a little more flavor and texture.
“Okay, these are all typical dishes at court,” Laarn said as he started to place bowls on the counter between them. He moved quickly, with a quiet efficiency that was mesmerizing. With a quick glance up, he offered a small smile. “Come on, they won’t bite.”
Chairs scraped, glasses forgotten in the stampede for the counter. Even tipsy, Kenna managed to get herself off the floor and fought for a place near the food. The kitchenette counter was small, with a hot plate on one side and the bowls on the other. Laarn had put a pot on the hot plate and poured something gloopy and brown into it to heat before he turned back to them.
“This is kervaas.” He pointed to the first bowl. The contents were gray, slimy, and wriggling.
“Ugh. Worms?” Jess wrinkled her nose in disgust.
“If that’s what you call them.” Laarn shrugged. “They grow on certain grasses and are highly nutritious. Gather enough and it’ll keep a warrior going for a day.”
“What’s this?” Cat leaned forward to peer into the next bowl. It contained what looked like flat strips of dried meat, like jerky.
“Veritan,” Tarrick answered for him, reaching over to snag a piece. He turned Cat toward him, offering it to her lips. “Try it, it’s good.”
She smiled and took a little bite. The taste of spice and sweetness exploded onto her tongue and she groaned. “Oh my god, that is so good. Guys, you have to try some of this.”
The rest dive
d in, plucking strips of the meat from the bowl. Moans of appreciation filled the room. Laarn looked up and grinned at Karryl. “See, warrior? I can do with my cooking what you couldn’t with all your posturing.”
Karryl snarled, snapping something Cat couldn’t pick up.
They went through several other bowls, with different forms of meat and some with salad and vegetables. Finally, Laarn set a plate on the table and reached for the pan he’d been heating. With careful movements, he ran a knife around the brown mass in the pan, then flipped it over and out onto the plate.
“Cake!”
“Oh my god, is that chocolate cake?”
“Laarn, I think I love you.”
The healer grinned, actually grinned, as he cut the cake and handed each of the women a piece. Cat cradled hers carefully. It was still warm, but not too hot to eat. Tentatively she broke off a corner and popped it into her mouth.
Heaven melted onto her tongue. Hot, delicious, sweet heaven. It was like the best, expensive chocolate cake she’d ever tasted that faded into a mousse when she chewed.
“Blow me, that is the best chocolate cake I’ve ever had!” Once again Kenna was the one to say what they all felt, with moans of accompaniment from the rest of them. Halfway through the cake, though, the Marine paused, then wrinkled her nose.
“How fattening is this?” she demanded suddenly, her focus intent on Laarn who was cutting more cake. “You guys are not like feeding us up or something are you?”
Laarn paused, surprise washing over his features. “Why would we want you as anything other than how you are?”
“I’ve seen it in the holos.” Once on a topic, Kenna was difficult to dissuade. “Men who like bigger women. Feed them up and all that. Because I’ll tell you something, I worked my ass off for an ass like this. Squats man, you have no idea how many squats. And I’m not having it all ruined because of your wicked chocolate cake.”
Laarn looked confused.
“You mean will it make you gain weight? Highly unlikely, the active ingredient raises metabolism. It’s why we don’t cook it when operational. Our nutritional needs would go through the roof.”
Cat blinked a couple of times as she mentally translated healer ‘speak.’ “You mean it’s good chocolate cake? It makes you burn the calories you eat?”
Laarn tilted his head to the side as though he were working out her words. Then he nodded. “Yes. It will do that. Makes your body more efficient.”
The women all gaped at him.
“Screw hot as hell aliens,” Kenna said, taking another slice. “Man, you got every earth woman's dream right here… Chocolate cake that doesn’t make you fat.”
***
They hadn’t been back to Lathar Prime, physically, for far too long.
Two days later, Tarrick and his warriors stood in the tiny airlock of the commander’s transport. The human women were tucked into the middle of the crowded space as they waited for the door in front of them to cycle and open. There was far too much male in such an enclosed area. He could feel the same eagerness radiating from them that coiled within him.
The door clunked and he looked down at Cat standing next to him. A wash of pleasure and love rolled through him. He still couldn’t believe how lucky he was. Couldn’t believe he’d found the one woman in the galaxy who had been able to pull the mating marks to life within his skin. All he’d had to do was cross the galaxy and search a backwater system for her.
She smiled up at him, her eyes alight with intelligence and humor. With her traditional robes and cape, and her hair piled up to bare her slender neck, she looked so lovely, she took his breath away. Heat exploded through him like an energy blast and he had to fight the urge to drag her up to his cabin and have his way with her.
Again.
Before he could move though, the door clicked a final time and rolled open. His desire was overruled by his need to see how Cat reacted to his home planet. What would she think? Would she like it? Could she see herself living here?
“Oh my, it’s beautiful.” Hand raised to her lips, his little Cat moved forward to the edge of the airlock and peered out. She was quickly joined by the other women and Tarrick had to smile. They looked for all the worlds like Deearin kits about to escape their mother’s den and venture into the world for the first time.
He hadn’t let any of them see out any of the viewports as they’d landed. Instead, he’d kept the blast shields up so they’d get the full effect of seeing the Emperor’s court for the first time. It appeared to have worked.
“It’s like ancient Greece or something.”
“Awesome columns. How high do you think they are?”
Tarrick half listened to the women’s chatter as he signaled his men to move. Absently, he wondered if all earth women talked so much. It was enough to give any warrior a damn headache. A constant stream of verbal…noise. But despite the fact they didn’t seem able to keep silent, he was very aware they were moving as a military unit.
The one they called Jane had taken point, her odd-eyed gaze sharp and assessing as she looked around. Of them all, she was the least talkative. Tarrick flicked a glance to Karryl, who was paying more attention to the lithe human than on his surroundings. Perhaps that was a blessing. Karryl, while he had a heart of siivas, was famous for his short-temper.
In the middle were his own Cat and her friend, Jess, flanked on the other side by his brother. At the back, with Gaarn and Talat behind her, was the sassy-mouthed Kenna. He glanced over his shoulder to see her half turn, her keen gaze scanning the rear. She caught him watching her when she turned back and winked at him. Plainly she knew he knew what she was doing and didn’t care.
Shaking his head at the odd behavior of human women, he turned and concentrated on getting them to the court and to the Emperor. Like the rest of his warriors, he bristled with weaponry. Court dress for a Lathar consisted of attitude, armor, and as many weapons as a male could carry. Although elegant, the Emperor’s palace was a dangerous place. All warriors were armed—regardless of rank or status¬—and challenges were common. Extremely common.
Which meant no one was surprised when their path was blocked by a small group of warriors. R’Zaa. Their facial features were distinct. The warrior at the front Tarrick recognized. J’aett, the son of the clan leader.
“I heard you’d found women,” he commented, his gaze assessing the human women. They stood still, not an ounce of subservience in their manners as they glared back at him. Not one of them gasped or backed up, making him proud. They didn’t behave like the weak species the Lathar had originally taken them for.
Still didn’t stop him wanting to spread J’aett’s nose all over his face. Especially when he gave Cat the once over. But it was Jane, at the front of the group with her arms folded and a “fuck you” expression that caught his attention the most. Unlike the rest, she wore a strange combination of lathar and terran clothing and her bearing marked her as exactly what she was: a soldier.
The R’Zaa warrior stepped forward, reaching out to grab Jane. “I claim this one.”
Karryl moved faster than Tarrick had ever seen him move, shoving between J’aett and his prey to knock the other warrior’s hand aside.
“Too late, draanthic,” he snarled. “She’s already claimed.”
The other warriors closed ranks around the rest of the women, and Tarrick shot a look at Jane, shaking his head to warn her not to argue Karryl’s claim over her. Not here. Not now. The R’Zaa had almost as bad a reputation as the T’Laat. No human woman wanted to find herself at their mercy, not as a slave.
He didn’t want any human woman being claimed outside the K’Vass until he’d had a chance to petition the Emperor to have their status as a lost offshoot of the Lathar confirmed. Once that happened then all Lathar would have to honor them, and to injure one would be punishable by death. A death he’d be happy to mete out personally, he realized. Somewhere along the way he’d become protective of the humans.
“Yeah?” J’aet
t wasn’t put off that easily. He backed up a few steps, the warriors behind him scattering, and motioned to Karryl. “Then I guess I’ll have to challenge you for her. Unless you don’t think you’re up to it…”
Karryl snarled and launched himself forward, blade in hand, accepting the challenge through action rather than words. J’aett met him mid-attack, twin blades flashing in the air as battle was joined. Karryl was bigger, but J’aett was lighter and faster. Tarrick held his position, hand itching to go for his own blades as the two fought, dancing around each other, but held off. All Karryl needed was one blow, a knockout, and it would be over.
But it didn’t look good, not with the R’Zaa warrior dancing rings around him. Jane tried to leap forward to help, only Laarn’s arm around her waist stopping her. Her features were wreathed in worry and fear. Not for herself, but for the big warrior being cut to ribbons by his smaller opponent. Tarrick blanked his smile. So, despite her protests, the human did have feelings for his warrior.
“Please,” Cat tugged on his arm. “Aren’t you going to help him?”
Tarrick shook his head. “Challenge fight. If we intervene, Karryl will be pissed. It will be like us saying he can’t handle it. That he’s not man enough.”
“He’s bleeding!” she protested, her stubborn lips setting in a line. “How can you stand there and not help him?”
“Seriously, Moore Cat,” he allowed her a small smile, “he can take it. Believe me.”
J’aett leapt, spinning in the air to land a hard kick across Karryl’s jaw and for a moment, Tarrick though that was it, the R’Zaa had actually gotten the better of the big warrior. Karryl grunted and fell to his knees.
“NO!” Jane bellowed, fighting Laarn’s hold.
“You’ll be mine, little one.” J’aett took his eyes off the fallen warrior to leer at Jane.
Which was the moment Karryl made his move. Flicking his dark hair out of his eyes, he dropped to the floor and spun on his hands, twisting his body and scissoring his legs to tangle in J’aett’s. The R’Zaa tumbled to the ground, Karryl over him in a heartbeat. Pinning J’aett’s arms to the ground, he raised his fist. Before he could deliver the knockout blow though, one of J’aett’s warriors pulled an energy pistol and aimed it at the side of Karryl’s head. “Not so fast.”
