EARTH'S LAST WAR (CHILDREN OF DESTINY Book 1)

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EARTH'S LAST WAR (CHILDREN OF DESTINY Book 1) Page 15

by Glenn Van Dyke


  With a twitch of his finger, he broke the clasp on her cape and sent it flying away. She now lay before him like a staked out lamb, her arms outstretched.

  Desperate passion driving his twisted thoughts, with a raised finger he gave the command for her knees to rise and for her legs to spread wide. Her black, stiletto boots accentuated the view, amplifying her vulnerability. Seeing her lying there, he suddenly knew where the demon responsible for his torment was hiding.

  Deprived of oxygen, Ashlyn’s mind slipped into darkness. Her body went limp.

  Seeing that the creature could no longer fight him, he lifted the field that had kept her pressed to the ground. Removing his clothes, he knelt between her legs.

  Ashlyn’s perfection enraged the animal within him.

  Descending upon her, he grabbed her breasts, wringing them harshly. Sucking on her nipples, they exuded a honey like sweetness that satisfied some deep, glutinous longing—and like the far-off thunder from an approaching storm; he felt a faint glimmer of sanity return.

  Like a warrior going into battle, Steven drew his sword and forged ahead into the creature’s lair. The cavern had the feel of being sacred, holy ground. It was untouched and pure as freshly fallen snow. He knew he was the first to have entered and he felt a rewarding sense of power and satisfaction from it.

  Steven called out, demanding that the creature reveal itself. As if in answer, from within the shadows, the silhouette of a hideous creature could be seen moving stealthily, silently. It showed no fear, and in fact, seemed to be taunting him to follow. Escaping beyond a thin veil of webbing, it disappeared into the larger cavern beyond.

  Steven’s anger swelled at the gall of the creature. “If you will not come to me, then I will come to you, demon.” Steven slashed away the webbing that blocked his path and pushed his way deeper into the cavern. The cavern moaned in response, the walls turning blood red. From some far-away place he heard the creature crying out in pain, weeping. He knew then, that the creature could be beaten. “See demon, you cannot run. You cry out, because I have made you bleed.”

  Emboldened, Steven closed the distance between them quickly. With his arrival in the depths, the walls of the cavern around him began to expand and contract, responding to his every touch, mimicking his every move with skillful squeezing finesse. Steven knew then that the creature was near to waking and that soon he would be the prey.

  The convulsions of the cavern grew stronger, gaining momentum with each passing second. It was only now that he began to understand that the cavern itself was a living, breathing entity—an entity that was now stalking him; weakening him; strangling him; wringing the very life from him.

  “You must show yourself now, demon. You must!” commanded Steven as he released a surge of energy from his sword upon the beast, bringing enlightenment to the darkness.

  With another release of energy, “I command you to reveal yourself, demon, for I am your master.”

  In response, the cavern quaked furiously. The creature within the shadows began to sigh and moan.

  “Reveal yourself demon or I will run you through!” Steven screamed, as he released a massive surge into the darkest shadowed depths. “I command you!”

  The quaking cavern began to still. He stood resolute, firm. He was a hardened warrior waiting for the enemy to reveal itself.

  “Then behold, foolish one! For you have slain that which you prize most,” the demon boomed.

  Steven staggered. For the face that stepped forward out of the shadows was that of his own. It bore the evil grimace of a devil and it belonged to the side of a man that few had ever seen, a side that none ever should. The darkness that had overtaken Steven exploded, shattering into a thousand shards of golden-mirrored glass. The light of the sun fell all around him, but not upon him. Within each shard, his own laughing, mocking face stared back at him.

  Steven closed his eyes, hoping the nightmare would go away.

  When he dared look again, the face in the shards had changed into that of Ashlyn’s. She was hurt and crying.

  “Why my love, why?” Ashlyn’s weak, pained voice called to him, riding upon the winds from a far-away place.

  Steven fought frantically to scramble out of the pit, to exit from the darkness that had captured him.

  Ashlyn’s face turned aside, straining to look away from him.

  As if it were in slow motion, an escaping tear ran to the bridge of her nose, hung for a moment and then fell, swallowed by the foam of a receding wave. The tear was like a red-hot knife slicing through his bowels. He screamed out, his stomach twisting in nauseous pain.

  The weight of his shame came crashing down upon him, crushing his soul. He had risen from the pit only to find himself in a hell of his own making. “Ash—what have I done?”

  As her tear filled eyes closed, he withdrew himself from her. He was broken. He could not face the reality of his actions, his crime. Not now, not ever.

  The demon’s words, his words, rang true, “He had slain that which he prized most!”

  He lay in the sand devastated by despair.

  Slowly, Ashlyn crawled to his side and gently putting her hand upon his face, urged him to look at her.

  “I can’t! I can’t live with this,” said Steven, not wanting to see her.

  Stroking his cheek, “Look at me,” said Ashlyn.

  Unable to witness the pain of his violent act in her eyes, he turned further away.

  “My love, look at me,” she whispered. “Look at me, Steven. Please.”

  While the memory of her tear stained face would forever condemn him, he felt compelled to do as she asked. In her eyes, he saw an understanding that he could not fathom.

  Tenderly, Ashlyn pushed him onto his back and climbed atop him, straddling him. Her actions bewildered him. “It’s all right my love, it’s all right. It’s what I want! It’s what I need!”

  He could not find a voice to ask her to explain. She held a power over him, which he could not resist.

  Ashlyn moved slowly, skillfully. Gently lifting her breasts, she invited him to caress them. Seeing his hesitation, she took his hands in hers and let her aroused nipples caress the palms of his hands. What she offered was too great for his deadened soul to resist. The faint spark of the man he had once been saw a glimmer of hope in her offer, though he could not see from where it shone.

  With finesse, she slid down on his shaft. Rising and descending, her sighs grew faster and higher in pitch. Their auras melded and his mind opened to her. Ashlyn guided him, helping him to focus his thoughts upon the physical sensations of being inside her.

  During his time of distraction, she searched his mind, trying to understand the cyclonic demons that had driven him into the pit of madness. She saw the moment that Steven had discovered Tynabo’s broken vial in his cabin. Oh my god, the dampener. He never took the dampener.

  Though surprised that she hadn’t realized it sooner, she now had the reason for his desperate desires, for without the vial’s dampener, the spark had unleashed a hunger inside him that was greater than any human had ever known. A desperation deeper than any man had ever been asked to bear.

  Instinctively, Ashlyn knew she could help him.

  With each of his thrusts inside her, she relaxed his mind. When he finished releasing himself, she guided his mind into a state of deep slumber.

  Sitting atop him, his hard cock still inside her, she scanned his memory, erasing each torturous visual image and mind-altered thought. He would remember kneeling between her raised knees and sliding himself into her. He would remember hearing her shrill sigh that had told him she was a virgin. He would remember her long orgasm and his releasing himself countless times inside her. He would remember every sensual visual angle of her, every physical sensation of her touch—the memories of what should have been.

  He would awaken happy and remember all the beauty in what they had shared. In so doing, she was at least able to remove all of his pain, though none of her own. Ashlyn would now hold
inside a hurt that he would never come to know of.

  ***

  Steven awoke first, roused by the sensation of Ashlyn’s left hand firmly grasping his scrotum even though she was fast asleep.

  Savoring her touch, he imprinted every detail of Ashlyn’s beguiling body and electrifying warmth, locking into memory the heat of her breasts and the feel of her leg draped over his.

  Ashlyn squirmed. Moaning sensually in his arms, she began to awaken. Her eyes yet closed, she kissed his chest, her hand squeezing his engorged cock sensually. Her touch was that of a thief, for it had stolen his heart.

  Steven rolled over atop her, pinning her hand that was holding his cock between them. Ashlyn’s thumb was playfully stroking and toying with him as he kissed her. With a push, he pressed himself harder into her fist. Her touch feels so good.

  “Ash—I’d thought you were kidding when you said you were still a virgin?”

  “You were the first, my love. It was always to be my gift to you.” Tenderly kissing him, she moved her hips, positioning his shaft so that it rode deep between her folds—the tip of his shaft pressing against her clit. With a gasp, she let the pearl of great value she had given him seduce them yet again.

  When they were done, they rose quickly and gathered their clothes that were strewn about. Three full hours had passed since the conference had ended and Steven was likely being missed.

  Even on the shuttle, though they were alone, they rode in silence, an awkwardness that spoke of their struggle to publicly repress their intense passions. Only after Ashlyn had exited the shuttle and the doors had slid closed behind her, did Steven allow himself to collapse in a feverish sweat to the seat beside him. Unfastening his collar, Steven hoped it would free him from his suffocation. It didn’t. Though she had left, his heart was still beating like tribal drums. His legs felt weak, exhausted.

  There was no doubt within his mind but that he and Ashlyn were one. His life was now her life.

  ***

  Back in her cabin, Ashlyn removed the top piece of her necklace, then the bottom, setting them on the counter by her shower. Unfastening her cape, she hung it on a hook. Unzipping her boots, she kicked them off, sending them flying into the corner.

  Stepping into the shower, she let the warm water caress her. Though Steven’s attack had been violent, the spark exchanged between them had also ignited the firestorm of ravenous desires within her. Upon regaining consciousness, those desires had forced her to succumb to him, forced her to orgasm.

  Now, standing under the warm water, Ashlyn envisioned how wonderful and tender their time together—should have been.

  The water’s touch became Steven’s fingers as it ran over her breasts, her belly and between her legs. It was sensual, stimulating.

  In trying to separate Steven’s animalistic behavior and rage from the pleasant physical sensations his touch had created, she ran her fingers over her hips and belly until she was grasping her breasts savagely, passionately, as Steven had done. With her other hand between her legs, she emulated his powerful thrusts.

  Remembering how it had felt to have him throbbing inside her, his hot semen shooting into her—her mind vanquished the chaos, erasing the violence and pain and replacing it with beauty and passion. Ashlyn latched onto the new memories, choosing to only remember the pleasant sensations—and from between large, intermittent breaths, she orgasmed.

  Chapter 8

  Steven’s return to his quarters was tarnished by Renee’s moody silence. It was unsettling, chilling. He could almost believe that she had personally witnessed his betrayal.

  Phillip and Sandee had ear-to-ear smiles at having their father home again, but under Renee’s disquieting mood, their excitement evaporated like water in a steam kettle. At Steven’s request, the kids scampered out of the room, giving him a chance to talk with Renee. “Ren, what is it? What’s wrong?”

  After a brief pause, “I’m going to miss you, that’s all.”

  Steven knew it went deeper, but something inside, probably his guilt, stopped him from pressing the issue.

  That night, though he and Renee had made love, the night passed slowly for Steven, as he lay awake. He dared not fall asleep for fear that, he might dream and Ashlyn would come to him.

  As dawn approached, Steven gave both Phillip and Sandee a kiss on their forehead, saying a second, silent goodbye to them while they slept—knowing he might never see them again. The mission was a dangerous one and the odds were against them. The vision, if it held true, denying his return.

  Nearing the door, “Renee, I don’t want to leave you like this.”

  “I’ll be fine. Take this.” Renee then placed her antique Harry Potter book into Steven’s hand and with a single finger upon his lips, “Go now, before I lose the strength to let you fulfill our destiny.”

  Surprised by her words and haunted by the intense solemnness with which she had spoken them, Steven melted before her unshakable will. He had not the resolve to question her. The look of mourning in her eyes as the door slid closed, shook him like nothing before ever had.

  Before heading to Avenger’s transport, Steven went to the bio-med lab to see his friend, Victor Gregor.

  Entering the lab quietly, making sure not to disturb the ongoing research in progress, he found Victor alone, sitting atop a small stool, cataloguing a vial of blue liquid.

  Victor was a rotund man, die-cut from the stereotypical, scientific mold, wearing a knee-length white smock and black wingtip anti-slip shoes.

  Steven cleared his throat. It was as gentle an interruption as he could think to make.

  “Hey—Steven! I was wondering if you were going to stop by.” Victor threw his arms round Steven in a warm hug. “Sorry, I couldn’t make the ceremony; I was in the middle of a timed experiment. By the way, congratulations on the victory!”

  After the pleasantries, Victor excitedly began talking about the recent developments, “The DNA samples you sent us are remarkable. You wouldn’t believe their chemistry. Their blood is similar to the basic components found in seawater. I can’t wait until Renee gets down here to see the analysis. This is what she’s been waiting for all these years and I’d be willing to wager that within two months, she’ll find a way to destroy them.”

  Steven admired Victor’s passion for his work. “That’s great Victor, it really is—but I need to talk to you about Commander Parker? About me?”

  Victor took a seat, “Are you referring to the vial Tynabo gave you? I’m assuming you took it?”

  “No. It broke during the shockwave that hit Avenger. That’s the thing, when I met Ashlyn today, for the first time—when our hands touched, nothing happened. Nothing at all, and I don’t understand why?”

  Victor thought for a moment, “That’s a big question. I can think of a dozen possible reasons, but—if there was truly no effect when you touched her, then I’d venture to guess that you should be okay. Do you feel any different?”

  “That’s the strange part. I do—but in a good way. All the side effects that I’d had these last two months, dizziness, headaches, they went away when I touched Ashlyn. I feel great. Better than I ever have.”

  Shrugging, “You’ll never see a doctor complaining ‘bout good news.

  Hey, do you want to know what I discovered about you and Ashlyn, biologically? It’s amazing. There isn’t much normal about either of you.”

  “Anything that’s important for us to know?” asked Steven.

  “I think so.” Victor shrugged.

  Steven took a stool next to Victor.

  Victor, anxious to talk, started in, “Admittedly, I did more research on Ashlyn than I did about you. Her anatomy and biological makeup was just so fascinating!

  As pertains to you—you’re changing. Your bone density and muscle mass has increased by six percent. You weigh fourteen pounds more than before you went to Denver. You’re turning into one tough hombre. You’re made to take a pounding, physically and—sexually.

  Your blood flow has
increased dramatically. Your heart is running like a turbo engine, delivering more blood, more oxygen—in turn allowing the adrenaline to interact with the muscles giving you greater strength. During sex, I’ll give you one guess what the increased blood flow is going to do to your size. Renee will notice it for sure. Be careful or you might hurt the poor girl.” Victor gave a small laugh. “The big news though, is you have a vastly, increased sperm production. It’s regenerating at near twenty times normal levels. It wouldn’t surprise me if you could have endless ejaculations.

  Whatever Tynabo did to you two, it all started in Denver. You definitely are not the man you were before. And, for as great as all that sounds, no offense, but you were boring compared to Ashlyn.

  All I can say about her is, wow! And—wow!

  For starters, keep in mind that men designed her. They loaded everything they could into her, including the kitchen sink. Hell, her kitchen sink, has a kitchen sink!

  If you think of a racecar as being built for speed—Ashlyn is built for sex. Take her breasts. You’ve seen the sway they make, well, the sway is artificial. It’s exaggerated. They gave each breast an extra pair of muscles. With any movement, even walking, her brain sends a signal to the receptors in those muscles in a timed flip-flop rotation that makes them wobble back and forth. To the male mind, the sway is like waving a dinner bell. She might as well be screaming, come and get it.

  During sex, her brain is wired to send those same signals to another pair of those specialized muscles in—.

  “Victor, is that really what you were leading up to with all this?” said Steven, cutting him off. “Did you tell Ashlyn what you just told me?”

  Victor shrank. “She didn’t want to hear it, any of it. She said that hearing specifics would spoil the natural spontaneity.”

  “You know what? She is a hell of a lot smarter than I am. I don’t want to hear any more.” Steven rose from the stool.

 

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