by Isabel Wroth
“I am.”
“Tarek, I don’t know-“
“It’s alright. Just hold onto me.”
He took a few more slow, leisurely kisses, as though he was savoring the taste of her lips, the feel of her under him, and truth be told she was intensely comforted by the heavy weight of him pressing her down. “I will give the command to my warriors, to Brennaugh’s, none of them will be permitted to exchange blood with their mates unless they are mortally wounded, dying, or have given recorded testimony stating they understand what an exchange of blood with a Sarazen may cause. Tomorrow, I will accompany you to speak to your crew, they will be made aware of all knowledge that we have thus far. Will this satisfy you, my one?”
She nodded, but a different kind of dissatisfaction was building up inside her, an ache that permeated her blood and made her skin feel like it was stretched too tight over her bones. The smell of him was overwhelming, the heat of him soaking into her pores, and she wasn’t thinking about her crew right now. She was thinking of the need that never really went away when she was with him. The need that made her pussy clench around nothing, she could feel how her clit swelled and pulsed with blood, her breasts actually throbbed, making her undulate and move her body to rub herself against him in an effort to get some relief. But it only enflamed her more and made the need that much worse.
She might later be embarrassed by how she so readily spread her legs to try and get enough friction to relieve the ache. She growled at the slick surface of his leathers that didn’t give enough, a hiss of sound when she found the hard ridge of Tarek’s shaft, because that was perfect. That was what she needed. “Clary,” His voice was thick and coarse, laced with restraint, but she didn’t want that, “Please, I need,” She moaned, and even the vibration of her own voice made her skin prick and ripple with the building pressure. “I cannot, the festival-“
“I don’t give a fuck, about the festival. You keep giving me just enough to make me starving for more, leave me needing more, and you stop because of that same stupid excuse. So either you help me make this ache go away, or you get off me and let me do it myself.”
Twenty Two
He hesitated long enough to piss her off, which meant he pissed off her cat. She bucked her hips up hard, surprising him enough that he jostled, giving her enough room to get her hands under his broad chest and push, heaving him off her so she could touch herself. The cool air felt so good, her hand between her legs rolling the hard knot of her clit…it hurt because she was so aroused, snarling when Tarek tried to take her hands away, rolling to her side to keep him from trying. He snarled back and almost leapt on top of her, grabbing both her hands to jerk them above her head, flat on her belly. She thrashed, hips seeking back, the breath seizing in her lungs when he bent his head and sank his teeth into the skin at her nape. The bite didn’t hurt like it should have, and the growl that he gave vibrated down along her spine, brought the strangest sensation of relief.
Not relief from the ache, that didn’t go away, but the fury and desire to fight him blinked out. Like he’d flicked a switch, and now she lay under him, her cat giving a submissive purr. His teeth dug in tighter, a warning before he released her neck and lapped that the punctures, his own purring an even deeper rumble. “Heat, you’re going into heat, my one. I need to contact Ga’rae.” She saw red at the very suggestion that he would leave her like this and bring another male. She made a sound she’d only ever heard on an audio file while researching cats, a slow, furious yeowl that came before she started kicking her legs and fighting Tarek’s hold on her. He bit her again, the sounds he made changed from growling to deep body rocking rumbles, and all the fury drained out of her on a confusing rush. It felt like she’d been drugged, felt like her cat gave a grudging huff and gave in without any more fight.
His teeth slowly slid out of her skin and like she was hearing him from the far end of a tube, his voice rolled over her while he shifted his weight, one hand pressing hers tighter into the bed. She shivered at the stroke of his hand down her side, at the reverence in it and how he kneaded at her flank and slipped that big paw of his under her belly. He touched kisses up her spine, rolling his face to move her hair aside so he could lick at her pounding pulse. “Alright,” He whispered in her ear, sending off another flurry of sparks down her spine, she could feel the arousal dripping from inside her, the slickness of her inner thighs, the nearly painful rasp of her nipples on the bedding.
She moaned at the barely there sweep of his fingertips over the top of her pussy, just a little bit lower and he’d be touching her where she needed it most. Surprise flickered when he didn’t seek lower, but instead pulled her hips up so that she was on her knees, ass in the air with her shoulders still pressed to the bed. The anticipation was killing her, and when she tried to wiggle her ass back to find him behind her, his palm cracked over her soft flesh with a breath stealing sting. “Behave, my one.” He growled, rubbing the burn deeper into her skin, fingertips pressing firmly, “Tarek, don’t do this if you won’t finish, please.” Her voice was hoarse with need, pleading, “Don’t do what? This?”
She keened at the firm stroke of his fingertips that cut through the embarrassingly wet lips of her sex to rub at her clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure to make her eyes roll back. His thumb pressed inside her, there, building the need higher, his chuffing growls and the scent of his own desire and need making her crazy for more. “You want this?” He bit out, and she almost screamed, tilting her hips back higher, tugging at the hold he had on her wrists, but his grip was like a damn vice, “Tarek! Please,” He rubbed at her clit while working his thumb in and out of her, her body vibrating on the edge of a much needed release, and he stopped. She shrieked her denial, her fury, and he spanked her again, right on the crease of her thigh, commanding her to look up.
He’d done something to the wall, because she wasn’t looking at the head of the bed, she was looking at her own reflection, and his massive shape above her. His muscles bulged with the strain she saw on his face, his eyes glowing in the dim light, need every bit as savage as her own stamped in his expression. “Do not. Look away.” He commanded hoarsely, she opened her mouth to answer, but he drove the breath from her with the ruthless stab of his cock into her burning body. She felt him struggle to reach the end of her, so tight and unprepared he had to fight for it. He gave her a single moment to suck in a sip of air, his lips peeled back from his fangs, and he gave her exactly what she needed. He rode her hard, his free arm wrapping under her chest to pull her up, hunched over her, growling and snarling in her ear while she bucked and braced to meet him, unable to tear her eyes away from their reflection and the eroticism of being able to see his body flex, and feel the reverberating slam of his cock inside her a millisecond later.
Her claws dug into the mattress, pleasure beyond anything she’d ever experienced, the brutality of it jarring her bones, searing through her blood. This wasn’t tender loving, this was pure and simple, furious fucking. The orgasm roared through her out of nowhere, twisted her muscles in knots, racing up through every nerve to blind her with the pleasure. It took the edge off, gave her a moment of respite, but it wasn’t even close to enough. “Shh,” He murmured in her ear, drawing her up to her knees, slowly letting go of her hands so he could touch her. Turn her face so he could rub his nose along the length of hers, their breaths coming in ragged pants, his body behind hers shaking with tension while he remained hard as a lead pipe inside her. “Take what you need from me, me one.”
His voice was like another tangible caress, and a sideways glance showed her spread over his thighs, her body on display, impaled on his thick shaft, coated and shining with her release. She felt like the most powerful, sexual creature in the universe, a sensual being meant to drive her mate wild. A purr rumbled out of her, and this time it didn’t startle her. It turned her on even more. She arched her back, which tilted her hips to better take him, made him grimace like he was in pain, made him scrape his tee
th over her cheek and growl hungrily.
She watched the way his darker colored hands cupped her breasts, hissing when he plucked at her nipples, kneading at her breasts while she grew fixated by the sight of his cock disappearing inside her, stretching her, spreading her wide. She moaned, twisting her arms back around his neck and watched herself move on him. “So soft, my one is soft,” He whispered, almost like he wasn’t even aware that he had spoken aloud, growling when she purposefully tightened her vaginal muscles around him, circling her hips on the way down.
She took his hand from her breast, biting into her lip to stem the whimpers, pressing his fingertips back around her clit, gasping when he simultaneously stroked and nipped at her ear. “When we find each other in the hunt, I will have you like this, breed and fuck under the eyes of the gods until my mate’s voice rises above all the others. Until we are one, once more.” His voice, the vow in it made her slam herself down on him hard, imagining him taking her under a canopy of trees and stars, feeling him smile while he rolled his fingers between her legs. She was going to die from pleasure, but hell, she was so taking him with her.
He ached, as though he had fought an entire clutch of Na’ha with nothing but his claws. It was a delicious ache, one he cherished while he watched his mate dress and wince over her own soreness. He had rake marks down his arms from her nails, punctures on his back from where she’d gripped him tight with her claws while he’d made her come, repeatedly. The pain had been exquisite, and so had every moment they had spent tearing up what remained of his bed. She carried marks of her own, his marks, and later he would inspect each one, but now was the time to join the others and speak to them of what was to come.
She blushed when he held his hand out to her, a knowing smile curling her lips when she crossed to him and accepted his touch. He drew her in, rumbling for her, purring as she called it, loving how the scent of her desire peaked when he rubbed his nose the length of hers. She walked beside him as they left, held his hand instead of denying him such pleasure. When they joined the others, he saw that Ohlen and Ga’rae looked as worn and replete as he did. “Where is Falken?” He asked of his medic, and Ga’rae grunted while he glanced at his tiny mate. “Still a slave to his mate’s need.” He muttered, neither he or Ohlen wearing tunics to try and hide the evidence of their mating marks. Just as he did, they wore them with pride.
The humans who saw them were wary, staring at their marks and wondering with fear in their eyes what manner of violence it had taken to mark one of them. They did not understand, but soon they would. “What happened?” Tara, the one who would belong to Brennaugh, asked with concern, approaching Clary with that emotion clear on her face. Clary put her hand up to stop her from coming closer, Gwen and Andi standing close to flank her, showing wordless support and allegiance to the one they decided, their beasts had decided, was their alpha female. He shared another look with Ga’rae, and his medic nodded, noting the change that may make life even more complicated when they arrived on Saraz. “There were some complications after we parted the other night. Complications that need to be spoken of to you, and the others. After that, the warriors from the other ship who were called, they’re quite insistent upon meeting you and the others.”
Tara made a face, a not entirely pleased face and fidgeted with the fabric of her dress. “So I got a short stick, huh?” He could see how Clary’s entire face softened, the care she had come to have for the other females with whom she had only once shared a home with. They had not been companions or friends, but now Clary felt responsible for them, had come to like and respect them, he could tell by that expression. She glanced sideways at Gwen and Andi, Andi who seemed much more content and relaxed, confident even. Both of the women wordlessly obeyed the quiet command and moved around the two, to go and gather the others. Remarkable.
Ga’rae and Ohlen paced after them at a respectful distance, just in case, and he watched Clary very carefully put her hand on Tara’s shoulder to move her aside. “Not at all. May I tell you my impression of him?” Tara tried for an uncaring expression, but he saw the wary hope in her dark eyes. “Sure. I guess.” He wondered what Clary would say, watching her carefully lest he needed to step in and keep her from accidentally harming her charge. “I like him.” He chuffed his displeasure at that sentiment, and Clary turned to give him a quelling look. She shook her head at him, rolled her eyes and returned her attention to Tara. “Tarek is the most handsome male I have ever seen,” Well, that was better, “I’m sure it’s bias, but of all the warriors I’ve seen on board, to me he is gorgeous. That being said, Commander Brennaugh, is the most beautiful.”
Clary ignored his chuff this time, focusing intently on Tara. “So I’m for the commander of the other ship, and he’s beautiful. I’m thrilled.” Tara drawled sarcastically, and Clary’s laugh drew every eye in the common room. “I would be. He is willing to discuss with you, your desire to accompany him in the search for the rest of our ships. But those complications arose, and, well, I didn’t get to talk further with him about it. The last time I saw him, he was over the moon to know that he’d finally been able to call a mate, but he was sad too.” He was surprised Clary remembered all that, or was even able to have recognized those emotions from Brennaugh with so many new sensations attacking her. “Why, because I’m human?” Tara asked, her pessimism a desperate mask to hide her own hurt, assuming Brennaugh would be displeased with her. “No. Because he probably thinks you won’t be attracted to him.”
“You said he’s beautiful.”
“He is. He’s also a warrior, he’s got scars and from my initial impression, he thought I would be afraid or put off by the sight of them.”
“But Gwen said Sarazens have like, uncharted healing abilities,”
“They do.”
“So whatever happened was…really bad. He suffered a lot.”
He wished he had thought to record this so that Brennaugh could later watch and see the confusion, the concern on his mate’s face. Her pale completion when her thoughts turned to how he had suffered. For this, little Tara would have his loyalty, always. “He wears them with pride, I think. But expects that people will be put off by them. He seems kind, and when we spoke he did not speak at me or down to me, he listened, and he’s willing to listen to you. So no, I don’t think you got the short end of the stick, at all.” Tara nodded, thanking Clary before going to join the others. He stepped up behind her, leaning down while he palmed her belly and pulled her back into his embrace, “I will remember this kindness you have given on behalf of my brother, always.”
Twenty Three
The humans sat and listened, half of them terrified, the other half curious, and he made it clear that he already had forbidden his warriors to exchange blood with any of them without recorded, voluntary consent. The males seemed curious to know if by accepting the blood exchange, that it would give them an opportunity to find a mate among the Sarazen females. “Truthfully, I do not know.” Ga’rae took over then, putting in his medical expertise, “In the past, we have given blood on the field to other species to aid in their healing. Some were unaffected, none ever took on characteristics of our kind. I am willing to take samples of your blood and see if a reaction occurs on a cellular level,”
“I don’t think it works that way.”
All eyes swung to Gwen, where she sat curled up in her mate’s lap, messing with the little tablet Ga’rae had given her to access their medical bay records. “I see that some of you were given blood by the warriors on staff in the med bay, Nelson, you in particular for the internal damage you sustained from the attack. You’ve been sufficiently provoked to extreme emotion several times now with no change. I think its specific blood that causes the change.” Ga’rae grunted skeptically, getting her elbow to his chest in response, “But we’ll test it if you want, anyway.”
He felt that the explanation of how humans could become Sarazens had gone over as well as could be expected. The seven females who had been called by Brennaugh and h
is men, they escorted to the observation deck where the anxious warriors were waiting. The males who had been pacing and growling with impatience, froze when they caught scent of the nervous females. He heard Clary murmur to her crew that it was alright, and he was honestly surprised when Tara took a deep breath and walked free of their group and right up to Brennaugh. She looked up at him, and he looked down at her, the scent of his desire, his sadness plain to him and the other warriors, but Tara just tilted her head and gave a soft, ‘huh.’ She reached her soft, tiny hand up and lay it on his scarred cheek, making his fellow Commander go rigid with uncertainty. “Clary was right. You are literally the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” Brennaugh’s nostrils flared, testing the scent of her words, the truth of them, and even from here he could see that truth land a blow to his heart. “I’m Tara,”
“My one,” Was his reverent answer, turning his face into her touch, already enslaved to the tiny human and her candor.
One by one, Brennaugh’s warriors came to claim their mates, and soon each of them were off in their own separate sections, speaking softly, smiling, while Ga’rae and Gwen walked around with their medical bags to implant the females with language converters. The ones who were nervous to receive the sinister looking injection, were carefully cradled by their mates and tenderly cared for after, which went a long way in earning the female’s trust. He could almost see the bonds forming before his eyes. He felt envious, rubbing at his chest and the ever present ache where his own had been severed, wondering if it would ever return.
