Fighting Kat

by PJ Schnyder

  Grinning then, he hooked his fingers into her waistband and slid her underwear down her long legs. He helped her out of her boots and the legs of her ship suit, finally out of the fragile undergarment. Then he decided to kiss his way up one long leg, taking his time to enjoy her soft skin.

  When he looked up at her, she was looking down at him with wide eyes, her breath coming in shallow pants. He could make her pant harder.

  He drew a finger along her inner thigh, ran his fingertip over the crease of her sex. Her grip on his shoulders flexed. He used his other hand at the inside of her knee to encourage her to widen her stance. And then he kissed her again, this time brushing his lips over her labia. She trembled, clutched at him.

  He traced her crease with two fingertips and gently parted her folds. She let out a whimper. Oh, he wasn’t nearly done yet.

  He tasted her then, ran his tongue over her and explored her delicate folds. She swayed and he slid his free hand up the back of her leg to grip her behind and steady her. He feasted.

  So good. She tasted so good.

  Her hands had clasped his head, running through his short hair, encouraging him. He licked and nibbled, found her little nub hidden underneath the tiny fold of skin and pressed it hard with the tip of his tongue.

  She called out. Might have been his name, he wasn’t sure.

  He fastened his mouth over her clit and moved his two fingers, exploring her opening. Her butt flexed under his other hand and he gripped her tighter. She was so wet, ready for him. But he wasn’t done with her yet.

  He suckled her clit, nipped, and suckled again, luring her into a rhythm. As she drew a deep breath, he slid his fingers inside her and her entire body tensed as she called out.

  He held her, enjoying the feel of her inner muscles clenching around his fingers. He pumped her a few times, helped lengthen her orgasm.

  “Rygard.” His name left her lips in a breathless whisper and he smiled.

  * * *

  Fine tremors ran through her from the orgasm. Oh and the satisfied, smug look on his face. No fair.

  She was still hungry and she wanted him wrung out and spent alongside her. It didn’t take too much to urge him to stand. He helped her get him naked too. She ran her hands over the flat muscles of his chest, his broad shoulders and well-defined arms. By the time her exploration traveled down his torso to his trim hips, his cock was hard and waiting for her.

  She wrapped one hand around the length of him, marveling at the softness of his skin. His eyes almost rolled up into the back of his head and he lifted his hands to grasp her shoulders.

  Good. It was his turn to be off balance.

  She played then, teasing the underside of his balls with her fingertips as she continued to caress his shaft with her other hand. She leaned forward enough for her breasts to brush his chest, was pleased when he reached around her back to undo the clasp to her bra and let it fall down her arms and around her wrists.

  She giggled at the sight of her bra draped over his penis.

  “Having fun?”

  “Mmm.”

  He took her by the wrists, gently, and pulled her hands away from him. “I’ve been wanting you a long, long time. Too much of that and we’ll need to wait longer.”

  She raised her gaze to his. “I want you now.”

  He met her halfway in a kiss, this one anything but gentle and every bit as hungry as she felt. The taste of her in his mouth gave her pause, but his tongue played with hers and teased her. She moved her hands from his loose grip and took hold of his shoulders. Leaning into him, she found his stance solid and before he could grip her, she hopped up, wrapped her legs around his waist.

  He grunted in surprise and for a moment, she worried she’d be too heavy. But this was Rygard.

  He laughed. “You are so incredibly sexy.”

  His hands curved under her bottom, supported her. They kissed and she nipped at the corners of his mouth as he walked in the general direction of her bunk.

  So they stumbled into the privacy divider and the wall on the other side. They eventually made it. Laughter mingled with deep kisses and little groans.

  He laid her down gently on her bunk, one hand curved over her head, protecting her from knocking it on the lower ceiling in the alcove. Flat on her back, she reached for him.

  He slid into her suddenly, taking her in a firm move of possession. The rock hard length of him stretched her, filled her until she arched her back with the pleasure of it.

  “Ah!”

  And he held there, inside her, both of them panting hard.

  “Good?” He held her hips, wouldn’t let her move.

  Finally, she answered, “Yes, yes! Rygard, please!”

  He drew back then, plunging into her at a frantic pace. She could only lift her hips for him, accept him as he drove into her, each hard stroke bringing her closer and closer to the edge again. Her pleasure grew until every muscle in her body clenched.

  “That’s it.” Rygard slammed into her harder, faster. “Come with me, sweetness. Come. With. Me.”

  She lost control. Ecstasy shuddered through her entire body as he came inside her in a hot rush. He collapsed over top of her and they held each other through the storm of their climaxes.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The sound of tiny paws scampering across the floor woke Kaitlyn.

  She peered through the darkness and ignored the sharp stab of pain in her eyes as she made the minute shift to panther vision. Rygard slept at her back, spooned around her. The heavy weight of his arm on her waist a comfort and a reminder that they were safe in her territory. As she studied their little visitor, she kept her breathing steady and refrained from moving to avoid waking Rygard. He needed the rest, to heal.

  Chester poked around in the pile of discarded rags from their captivity. His long back arched as he dug head first in the garments. A few pieces flew a couple of inches away as he tossed them, in search of something.

  Nothing there a tube rat would want; not a stitch of lace or silk.

  Kaitlyn planned to incinerate the rags, but cleaning everyone up and tending to injuries had taken precedence.

  Apparently, Chester found something to his liking because he emerged with soft cloth clenched in his mouth. Little eyes glittered and he chattered in excitement before quieting as if he realized he might wake someone.

  Too late.

  Rygard was awake too. His breathing paused and his hand pressed flat against her belly. It was too dark for him to be able to see Skuld’s pet, but he must have heard him.

  Kaitlyn spread her hand over Rygard’s, a reassurance. His arm tightened around her just a bit.

  Chester dragged his prize free of the pile and turned his head toward where she and Rygard lay. Then the little thief headed for the door, dragging his loot with him.

  Okay, curiosity and all that.

  Kaitlyn twisted her upper body toward Rygard and rubbed her head under his chin. The scent of him, hale and whole, filled her with contentment. She pressed a soft kiss against the line of his jaw and then gently tugged his arm off her waist.

  He let her go with a kiss to the forehead and a naughtier caress of her behind. Sliding out from under the light blanket covering them both, she stood and stepped into one of her ship suits.

  The fabric hugged her limbs and she figured she’d have to get familiar with the restriction of being fully clothed again. A welcome necessity, though she experienced an awkward hesitation at present. Weird what things a person had to get accustomed to on the return to “normal” living.

  Even weirder than Chester stealing cotton instead of silk.

  She padded silently out of the Medical Bay and down the corridor on bare feet. No need to keep the ferret in sight, his scent trail was warm and his musk stronger than she remember
ed. He must be agitated. She didn’t want to distract him from his intent so she gave him a head start. Better chance to find out whatever he was up to this way.

  He didn’t head back to Skuld’s room in the Engineering Bay.

  Instead, he scampered from corridor to corridor until he reached the weapons storage room. Well, he’d had a cache in there. It seemed as if years had passed since the day she’d found it, and regained the purloined toy Skuld had been freaking out over. It was also the spot where Tracer and Skuld had first had a chance to interact.

  She stepped into the storage room just in time to see Chester’s tail and a trailing bit of cloth turn the corner and disappear behind one of the racks. She followed close at that point, not worried about giving him more of a lead.

  As she turned the corner, her chest tightened in sad sympathy. Lying on the floor in a corner was Max, his nose between his front paws. Chester dragged the cloth to him, coming to a stop right in front of the big dog’s muzzle.

  Not to personify a tube rat, but hell, she could hear the concern in the little squeaks Chester made.

  Using his nose and his forepaws, Chester tucked the cloth under Max’s muzzle until the German Shepherd Dog lifted his head. Big ears swiveled forward and the sound of one long sniff broke the silence. Sad brown eyes looked up at her, through her, and then Max dropped his head down on the cloth with a heavy sigh.

  “What are we going to do with you?” She didn’t have to whisper. The room was far enough away from the crew quarters. Still, the space around them pressed in close, full of silence and...waiting. Waiting for a man they’d left behind.

  “He’s not coming.” They hadn’t been able to recover Tracer’s body. Captain Petrico-Calin IV wouldn’t risk sending a recovery team.

  Max didn’t move his head, only turned those dark eyes up toward her.

  “I’m sorry.” Damn it, she’d already held Skuld as her friend cried for what could have been. It’d been awkward as hell and Kaitlyn would have bled straight from the heart if she could have found a way to bring Tracer back alive. Anything to spare Skuld the loss.

  Irony, that. She was pretty sure she could manage to overcome a heart wound, given the acceleration to her healing ability.

  Lying in front of her was another broken heart. This one had a hole in it no instrument in her Medical Bay could detect or stitch up. She ached for him, even if he was a canine.

  Tracer’s face swam up in her mind’s eye, the grim line of his mouth, the blood dribbling from the corner and down his jaw. He’d known he was dead. He had to have sustained internal bleeding from his injuries.

  A growl rose up in her throat. She might have been able to stop the bleeding, repair the internal damage or at least stabilize Tracer and drop him into cryo for transport back to a decent medical facility. But no, the idiot had to literally drop a dog on her and run off in an act of kamikaze heroics.

  Chester let out another concerned squeak and scampered over to her. He placed a paw on her big toe for a half a second and then returned to Max. Climbing up onto the canine’s broad shoulders, Chester curled into a sad ball nestled between Max’s shoulder blades.

  Her feet moved without her conscious thought. A few steps and she was folding down to sit beside the furry pair. Up close, she could identify the stolen rag now. Chester had nabbed a scrap from what was left of Rygard’s shirt, the one she’d worn for most of her time spent in the hell hole. It barely carried his scent anymore, but hers permeated every fiber.

  Hesitant, not sure what good she could do here, she extended her hand and placed it on Max’s head. Those big ears drooped. His coat felt rough under her palm—too many days of bad nutrition and rough living in the caves. She ran her hand over the rest of him, ignoring Chester’s disgruntled squeak when she dislodged him from his perch. Too thin; bones were prominent under the German Shepherd Dog’s skin. When she touched his nose, it felt dry and warm to the touch.

  “We need to get an IV in you.” His brown eyes remained dull, no acknowledgement and none of the comprehension she’d seen in them in the past. “And you need to eat.”

  Hardly possible as he was already lying on the floor, but Max flattened himself even further. He definitely closed his eyes and covered his face with one paw.

  If Chester hadn’t taken notice of the big dog, Max might have lain here and pined away before anyone noticed. They’d have another dead body on their hands. She rose to her feet.

  No more deaths, not tonight anyway.

  “Up. On your feet.” She didn’t raise her voice. It hadn’t been a request either.

  Eyes remained closed but ears swiveled forward. Chester uttered an excited chatter and scrambled up her pants leg and torso until he reached her shoulder. From his perch, the little ferret gave an imperious squeak of his own.

  Max didn’t move further.

  Her temper heated her blood. He’d survived. Tracer had sacrificed in order for all of them to live, especially Max. She be damned if she’d let the dog waste it. Stupid male.

  “Up, Max.” She snapped out the words. No room for disobedience this time.

  The big dog’s ears swiveled toward her slowly. He weighed her words, looking out at her from eyes clouded in pain. His gaze cleared and for a moment, she caught a glimpse of the sharp intelligence she’d seen when she’d first met him. She swallowed against the lump in her throat as she watched him struggle to stand. It took far too long, and when he made it up, he swayed. Three shaky steps forward until he leaned his chin on her shoulder. He’d done it, for her.

  “Let’s go.”

  * * *

  Rygard sat up and pulled on the pants from his uniform as soon as Kaitlyn left. Wherever she was going, he figured she’d be awake and not ready to immediately snuggle up again. Her heat might be wearing off, but it still hit her in waves of restlessness whether she noticed or not.

  Footsteps sounded in the corridor and Rygard hustled to get the rest of his uniform together. When Captain Petrico-Calin IV entered the Medical Bay, his mouth was twisted into a frown.

  Could he be more obvious?

  Rygard snapped to attention and gave the captain the salute his rank required. A return salute didn’t come until after a long, unnecessary pause. Inwardly, Rygard seethed but he didn’t give the other man the satisfaction of seeing it show on his face.

  “At ease.” Petrico-Calin walked a few steps forward, glancing around the room. “I noticed you weren’t bunking with your soldiers, Lieutenant Rygard. Were your injuries more serious then reported?”

  “No sir.” Rygard kept his gaze forward. As far as he was concerned, this was an interrogation. No way was he ever going to let his guard down around this man after the debacle of the rescue mission.

  “Then why are you still in the Medical Bay?”

  The answer was obvious and every other man on board knew it. They also had enough respect not to say a word about it. Anger boiled up inside Rygard. He was off duty. There was no reason for Petrico-Calin to stick his dirty nose into the affairs of tired soldiers.

  “Rygard, thank you for staying to lend a hand.” Kaitlyn walked in then, her arms full of German Shepherd Dog.

  He swallowed whatever he’d been about to say, and good thing. He hadn’t slapped a filter on his brain. Instead, he strode forward and helped Kaitlyn settle Max onto one of the patient beds. “What happened?”

  “He’s pining for his handler.” Her hands moved quickly as she reached into drawers for the supplies she needed. “He needs fluids stat. And he hasn’t been eating. If we can’t get him to swallow sustenance, I’m going to have to put a direct tap on his stomach. Not an easy thing for his breed.”

  “That’s a valuable animal, woman.” Petrico-Calin walked up, immediately getting in Kaitlyn’s way as she turned back to Max with an IV needle in hand. “What did you do to him?”

&nb
sp; “I found him.” Kaitlyn growled. When she bared her teeth, her canines lengthened. Petrico-Calin paled and backed up a step.

  Bad move. A smart man never gave ground to a challenge like that.

  Her growl ceased and she moved into action. “Hold this.” She shoved the ready IV needle toward Rygard. He took it carefully from her, making sure to only touch it where she had. He didn’t want to mess with the sterile needle point.

  Swift and efficient, she retrieved a set of clippers from another drawer and shaved a patch from Max’s foreleg. A swab disinfected the area and she took the IV needle back. Within moments, she had it in a vein and was taping it to the dog’s leg to keep it in place.

  “Stay.” Her command voice stopped Rygard in his tracks. He’d never heard her use the tone before and it demanded obedience even if she was talking to Max and not to him. The dog heaved a big sigh and closed his eyes. Had the dog ever truly listened to anyone but Tracer?

  Sure, he’d heard her talk at the dog before. Back then it’d seemed like a contest of wills.

  “Be sure you give that animal the utmost care.” Petrico-Calin really didn’t know when to keep his mouth shut. “He’ll need to go back to the Kx9 division until another handler can be assigned to him.”

  “He’s mourning.” Kaitlyn didn’t spare a glance in Petrico-Calin’s direction, but she angled herself not to give him her back either. Max seemed to be watching the captain through half-lidded eyes. “I need to get this line established and then I’m going to have to pull some real chicken from the galley.”

  Petrico-Calin made a sound of disgust. “All Kx9 units come with their own special feed. Everyone knows they only eat that. If you poison military property...”

  “The feed is for when he’s in top condition and eating properly. He’s been through insane shit and hasn’t eaten decent food since before we all got out of that hell hole.” Kaitlyn’s voice had gone flat. The fine hair on the back of Rygard’s arm stood on end. She had almost no control left. “His stomach won’t handle regular feed at this point and he needs the most easily digestible protein I can provide him. You don’t want me to put a tube in his stomach.”