by Vi Voxley
He loved it, loved everything about her mindless desire. Cora's eyes were shining like stars as his cock throbbed, the orgasm approaching with full force. Their naked bodies were grinding against each other, drawn together like they gravitated to each other.
"Fuck yes," Cora moaned, kissing him deeply. "Just like that–"
"Is this what you wanted?" Brocke growled, the lust in his veins making his voice deep and hoarse. "To be taken until you can only say my name and beg for more?"
"Yes," Cora whimpered, closing her eyes in desperate need. "Yes, I want – I need to cum... Brocke!"
"Not before I say you can," Brocke said, catching Cora's hands in his and holding them over her head, rendering her utterly helpless underneath him.
Cora's eyes flew wide and the flames burning in them almost broke through Brocke's considerable self-control. He'd stared down powerful, dangerous enemies, but seeing Cora like that made his entire body tremble.
Brocke didn't stop moving for a second. Her pussy was tight and hot and needy around his cock, clenching down on him hard every time he thrust into her. The guardian could feel her need for him with every inch of his body.
He picked up a furious pace, pounding into Cora without restraining himself. A part of him wanted to take it slower and more careful, but seeing the way her gorgeous eyes rolled into the back of her head made that impossible. She moaned, struggling in his grip while it was completely clear to him she didn't really want to get anywhere.
When Brocke hit the spot within her with every punishing thrust, she screamed, her body shuddering in waves of pleasure.
This is what I needed to come home to, he thought with a grin, clamping his mouth over hers.
Cora wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling Brocke even deeper into her. The guardian had to bite his tongue not to cum from that sensation alone. Seeing her give herself to him so completely was enough to push Brocke close to the edge.
"Brocke, please–" she pleaded, her beautiful voice no more than a panting whisper.
Her body was hot and smooth and divine against Brocke's, every inch of Cora begging for more and he wanted nothing but to give her exactly that.
"I can feel how close you are," he growled in response, pressing heated kisses against her neck. "I could keep you like this for a long time. Aching, needing to cum but never permitted to."
Cora's breathless whimper was threatening to break his concentration, but Brocke went on.
"You are so wet for me," he said in between kissing her lips and neck, still holding her immobile under his body. "So fucking tight. I could make you cum with a word if I wanted to, take you right where you want to be. Is that what you want?"
"Yes, yes," Cora moaned. "I need to–"
Brocke had to squeeze his eyes shut, the sight of her helpless and begging too much for him to bear. The pace he'd picked was taking a toll on them both, driving them fast out of their minds. The air around them was hot and heavy, his skin bruised by Cora's nails urging him to go faster.
"You are so fucking gorgeous right now," Brocke said, meeting her lustful, clouded gaze.
He bent to run his tongue over the delicate flesh of her neck, making her shiver and moan loudly. Brocke traced a path up to her ear, loving the way she twisted so hard in pleasure she almost managed to push him off.
"Cum," he ordered, the easy authority slipping into his voice. "I want to feel you cumming for me while you take my seed."
Cora cried out, her limbs locking around his body, but he never stopped moving. Thrust after thrust, he sped closer to his own orgasm while Cora's wet pussy contracted around his cock.
She moaned his name as he claimed her, making the little Terran his and his alone. Brocke didn't think he could ever grow tired of that, making love to Cora while making sure she never wanted anything else but him.
His own climax struck so hard Brocke growled, his deep voice trembling a little. No one but Cora could do that to him. In turn, her eyes flew wide in ecstasy as he spent his seed into her moist, sensitive pussy. He could feel her shudder from head to toe as his cum spilling into her brought forth new waves of pleasure for her, as evident from the rapturous look in her eyes.
Shaking his head clear from the mist of his release, Brocke climbed off of her, careful not to hurt her with his weight. In the midst of their passion, he'd let go a little, but the guardian never truly forgot to be gentle with Cora. She and their baby were the most precious things in the world for him and nothing in the galaxy could have made him take that lightly.
Cora was smiling at him, her hazel eyes filled with love and devotion. He leaned in to kiss her, pulling her against him softly. He chuckled darkly when Cora's hands instinctively ran over his sculpted muscles.
"I would say this was great, but I'm pretty sure you already know," she said, smiling. "I still can't believe how good you can make me feel."
"I could say the same," he allowed, rolling onto his back and letting Cora lie against him, one hand lazily tracing the black lines of ink on his chest.
He kissed her for that, groping her soft breasts in return, earning a mischievous smirk from her.
"My boobs will get so big," she pointed out, looking down at her body. "I hope you'll still be attracted to me when I'm big and weigh a ton."
Giving Cora a reprimanding look never worked well for Brocke. It just didn't feel right, especially since he was never truly mad with her. He gathered her more tightly into his arms.
"You will always be perfect to me," he promised.
Before she could protest, Brocke went on.
"And yes, of course I'm aware your body will change. I think it's amazing. I will always love every inch of you. How could you even think I'd adore you any less when you're carrying my child?"
"I really don't," Cora admitted, a light burning in her eyes. "I just kind of regret we won't be able to do all of the things we can do now. You know, not all positions work when I have to be maneuvered around with a forklift."
Brocke would have rolled his eyes, were he the kind of guy to do that.
"All the more reason for us to take full advantage of the time we have now," Brocke replied, pressing their lips together in a sealing, promising kiss.
Cora moaned, settling against his chest and simply resting there. He held her, amazed how perfectly content he could be in a peaceful moment like that. He was a warrior, born for the heat of battle, but she made him feel incomplete without her.
"I meant it, you know," he said thoughtfully, kissing Cora's short, messed-up hair. "I have faced down the worst people ever born to this realm. Some have been insane, others simply evil. Some of them have at least had the honor to face me, others have tried to strike at me from behind.
“Every time, I've won all the same. As far as enemies go, however, I agree with the chieftain. There is no point in denying some of them have been formidable. Perhaps even inspiring fear, in the moments a warrior is not yet in control of their own minds."
"Corgans," Cora murmured sweetly.
Her breath tickled his skin and Brocke grinned. There was something so incredibly simple and natural about being with her. He couldn't imagine anything better.
He looked at her, continuing: "Yet none of them have ever made my voice shake. Or my heart to skip a beat, the way you do."
"I bet none of them had an amazing ass like mine," she pointed out.
Then she propped herself up on one elbow, giving him a quiet smile to show she actually understood what he meant. The guardian didn't mind the joke, anyway. He answered with a mocking nod.
"That is true," he allowed. "Corgans can – and will – weaponize everything, but I must say we haven't considered that."
Cora glared at him playfully, bending down for a kiss then. Brocke groaned when her curious fingers wrapped themselves around his cock, already growing harder again. He quickly rolled them over, drinking in her playful moans.
It wasn't just a good way to be welcomed back. It was as perfect of a day as he could
remember.
Like all the others had been from the day he met Cora.
3
Cora
She'd joked about meeting the chieftain and Mara James, but as the report came that Nadar Brenger was approaching the Citadel, Cora actually found herself a little nervous.
She paced around in their quarters in the Citadel. Brocke had already told her that he had an idea about their more permanent future home, but so far he insisted on keeping it a surprise.
Compared to her dingy apartment the Militant had provided, Cora was quite fine with that. Anything would have been an improvement and knowing Brocke the way she did, it had to be something spectacular.
Although I hope he isn't hollowing out a mountain like the Citadel. Talk about a large house for one family.
Of course, the Citadel was much more than just a house. It was the military center of the Corgan warriors on Gaiya and actually the whole realm, because the current chieftain had chosen it for his home. In her mind, the Citadel was pretty much the king's palace.
And she was about to meet the king after she'd gone and gotten herself pregnant by the prince.
Alright, it's not that bad, but I can't help but feel a little self-conscious… That has to be expected, right?
When nothing else worked, Cora decided to approach it rationally, as she did everything.
Was she afraid of Brocke's parents?
No.
Nadar Brenger might have had a reputation, but he was also known to be fair to be point of absurdity. The chieftain never forgot anything and dealt everyone what they deserved.
Was she nervous about not being accepted?
Also no.
Brocke had assured Cora that his parents had heard of her work and were impressed. And unlike most Corgans, Mara and Nadar clearly would have no problems with her heritage.
What did that leave then?
It left feeling oddly out of place, Cora concluded.
It wasn't fear or nervousness that bothered her. There was just an undeniable feeling of intruding somewhere, pushing her way into the most powerful family on Gaiya. And the underlying dread that if Nadar Brenger and Mara James didn't like her, it might make Brocke look at her differently too.
Stop that, Cora told herself firmly after those realizations had sped through her mind, completely unwelcome. This is not the kind of meeting I'd have on Terra. These are Corgans. They're crazy. I have to get with the program if I want to last here.
That comforted her a little, but she still felt the swarm of nervous butterflies in her stomach when she stood in a large atrium on one of the top floors of the Citadel. The hollowed mountain lived and worked and buzzed underneath Cora's feet, several thousand feet below her.
Unlike the lower, darker levels, the top of the Citadel was more open to the light. The atrium was grand and beautiful, reminding Cora of Terra, especially the marble-like floors.
Brocke was watching her with a knowing look in his bright blue eyes. She noticed he was standing on guard, something he didn't do around her, but right then Brocke had the image of duty plastered all over him. Nadar Brenger might have been his father, but first and foremost he was still the chieftain, the ruler of all Corgans.
She got the feeling that in Brocke’s mind, he was as much a warrior of Nadar Brenger as he was his son. Talk about complicated family dynamics.
"Have you ever fought him?" Cora asked to take her mind off the upcoming meeting.
"The chieftain?" Brocke asked, a thoughtful expression on his face. "I don't remember the last time I did. But as a child, of course. He was the one who taught me to fight."
"So you haven't dueled since you actually became a warrior like him?" Cora asked, surprised. "I was certain you'd do that right now. Like, a traditional bout or a friendly match. I thought you warriors lived for such things."
"We do," Brocke admitted, a slight smile playing at the corners of his lips. "If I should see some of the warriors I trained with, I would do exactly that. But not with the chieftain, no."
"Why not?" she asked.
When Brocke didn't answer at once, she hastened to add: "Never mind, it's none of my business."
The guardian walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her, looking at her with a loving smile, before catching her lips in a gentle kiss. It only took a moment for that act of love to wipe all fear and trouble from Cora's mind. After they ran out of air, he backed away a step and shrugged.
"There is nothing to hide," he admitted. "It's just one of those things non-Corgans don't always understand."
"Try me," she said dryly. "I'm told I'm quite bright."
Brocke laughed, shaking his head.
"I wasn't calling you stupid," he said. "It's a cultural thing, as you say. You see, our realm is ruled by warriors and warriors are ruled by reputations. I dare you to name me one powerful clan lord or a remarkable warrior who someone hasn't called the best. Everyone has been named the greatest fighter alive by someone after they've been around long enough."
"It makes sense," Cora said. "You all spend your lives trying to be the best."
"Yes," Brocke agreed. "So, understandably that raises the question."
"Who actually is the best?" she offered, more intrigued by the second.
She couldn't say she shared the natural ferocity and lust for battle the Corgan warriors possessed, but Cora loved hearing about them. It made her feel closer to Brocke, knowing there would always be a lot of differences separating them.
"Exactly," Brocke said, pacing with slow, measured steps that echoed in the empty hall. "Some parts of the question are answered, of course. A clan lord is challenged, warriors duel to death. A warrior yields or offers their service. But no one can – or will – ever answer that question for real."
"Why not?" Cora asked, her eyes wide.
Emotions warred on Brocke's face as the guardian smiled. There was seriousness there, but also amusement on a very deep level.
"Can you imagine how much death that answer would bring?" he asked. "It would be too high of a cost."
"You mean all of the warriors would have to fight to find that out?" Cora finally realized.
"Yes and no," Brocke said and for a moment, she saw the blue light in his eyes flaring up like always when he spoke of the warrior's life. "Think about it. It's not just Corgans. The Brions have fifteen generals at all times, each one of them a world-conqueror. Imagine if they would want to know who really is the strongest. Who would you bet on?"
Cora thought about that. The feared Brion generals were legends in their lifetime, but the answer still came fairly easily to her.
"Diego Grothan," she said. "I mean, it's in his name, grothan isn't actually..."
"It's a title, yes," Brocke said and the hungry fires in his eyes burned impossibly bright for a second. "I always liked that tradition. Unbeaten. Imagine a man that hasn't lost that title in all his life. General Diego is a great guess, but I don't think there is an answer. Being the best is a myth. Most people don't understand that, but you can never account for everything.
“Say the Brions fight. It has to be to the death, because only the prospect of dying makes a warrior fight with everything they have. I should know. I remember seeing you in danger in Olyra."
Brocke trailed off for a moment. Cora was absolutely stunned by the sheer amount of horror in his eyes, only then realizing how much Brocke had feared losing her the day he killed Condor.
Then the guardian went on, pacing back and forth on the cold floor of the atrium.
"However they would choose to do it, chance and luck would come to play. Someone gets wounded, or paired up with an uncomfortable opponent. Every plausible candidate would have to die, but you could still never get the real answer because things could have gone a different way."
Cora considered all that. The lives these men led were completely different than anything she would have imagined on Terra. While there were plenty of great warriors back home, none of them really lived and breathed their miss
ion the way the Corgans did.
It was really amazing to be able to experience it, even if she had to make do with secondhand accounts.
"Then why do you and the chieftain never duel?" she asked.
"Not all warriors understand that," Brocke explained. "That's what I meant by reputations. As long as you can claim to be the best, the chance that you really are what you claim to be remains. If that's resolved, there is no doubt anymore.
“I would love to fight the chieftain and see if I can match him, but there is no victory in that for either one of us. If I win, his position is compromised. If he wins, Gomor will hear and my prisoners will know I can be beaten. And we wouldn't duel to the death either way. It is just a question that doesn't need an answer."
"I understand," Cora said, thoughtful. "I just need to ask one more thing. It just occurred to me."
"Go on," Brocke said.
"Do you not want to be the chieftain one day?" Cora asked then, seeing the way Brocke's eyes narrowed. "I mean, of course you wouldn't kill your father, but isn't that the only way to rule his clan?"
"I have no interest in becoming the chieftain," Brocke said darkly.
A prince that does not want to be a king…
"I thought all Corgan warriors did," Cora replied, knowing she was pushing it, but she needed to know.
His motivations were the defining force of what their future together would look like. It was simply not something that she could not ask. Going from feared guardian to ruler of planets… well, a goal to become that wasn’t something a woman would want to be in the dark about in regards to her husband.
"No," Brocke said at once, his voice like a whip, making her jump.
"I didn't mean to scare you," he said, pulling her into his arms again and looking at her seriously. "I simply meant warriors choose what they fight for, not what others believe they should want."
"That is good to know," Cora said, smiling brightly and with evident relief.
Brocke looked surprised.
"You wouldn't want me to become the chieftain?" he asked, his usual grin slowly tugging at his lips again.
