by Viola Grace
She held on as he moved them to the back of the shuttle, and she sat on the bunk as he peeled the suit off her, carefully damaging a few more nodes on his way.
She removed the thick fabric of his suit with a bit of effort. When they were both unclothed, he took his time, stroking her skin and tracing the complicated patterns of the veins under her skin.
“It is like a vine has sprouted and brings life to all your limbs.” He smiled and leaned back in admiration.
“And you are a piece of deepest space all my own. I always loved looking out into the endless darkness.” She stroked his chest and moved her hands lower.
Burin confirmed she was ready for him and joined their bodies.
Wiyra squirmed at the discomfort of her first time.
He was surprised, but he paused and kissed her slowly until her body undulated against his again.
She moved with every stroke, and eventually, she shivered as her mind came apart and reformed with him still inside her.
He nipped at her lips and kept moving until he exposed his teeth and bit down on her shoulder with a sharp lunge.
She shrieked, but her body embraced the pain and her concentration was lost, as she had to find all the pieces of her mind and reassemble them.
Burin was careful not to crush her as he fought to regain control of his breathing. He kissed her, and she tasted her blood in his mouth.
She smiled. “Well, I am glad that we were alone for that. I am getting the idea that I was kind of loud.”
He chuckled and kissed her neck, licking the bite he had inflicted. “I liked it. In fact, I would like to try it again at the earliest opportunity.”
She laughed. A chirp got her attention. “What is that?”
“Com unit. They have been trying to contact us for twenty minutes.” He nuzzled at her neck.
She sighed and arched to let him have free rein. “What do you think they want?”
“Probably to get us home as fast as they can. I am going to guess that eventually Shesali will come through. She can force a connection.”
It took ten minutes, but he was right. “Answer the damn com, Burin.”
They were already showered and dressed. Wiyra was wearing her armoured suit, but it had the damage clearly showing.
The com came up, and the Reevish coordinator was scowling at them. “Where have you two been?”
Burin shrugged. “Wiyra needed some rest after her assignment, so I turned the com down. Is there something up?”
“We have a request to retrieve a young woman from a Hickom colony. They have agreed to let her go provided that we can get in and out without too much disruption. I thought Wiyra could do the recon and you could both go in to do the retrieval. She is a highborn Nyal and doesn’t have a landing visa or permission from her patriarch.”
Wiyra grimaced. “Spoiled brat?”
“Yup. She is scheduled for an arranged marriage, and she decided that she would rather live in squalor with a Hickom.”
“Well, if she is in love…” Wiyra shrugged.
“She hasn’t even met a Hickom before today. She just wants to tick off her parents. We have had Readers look into it already. The girl is just a brat, and in less than two weeks, she goes into heat. Get her, bring her home, tie her up if you have to, but get her out of there before their instinct overrules good sense.”
Burin felt it necessary to report, “Wiyra’s suit has taken some damage. Jumping with her might be unsafe.”
Shesali grinned, “Check the furthest left storage compartment. There is a spare restraint suit for her, but you bite another one and you are going to have to pay for it, Burin. Your teeth marks are too distinctive to pretend it wasn’t you.”
The information started to scroll on their screens and data pads.
Wiyra laughed all the way to the storage unit where she pulled out the pristine suit and slipped it on. It seemed that privacy was going to be hard to come by, but she had confidence in Burin’s ability to improvise.
She settled back in the nav station and took a look at the coordinates. She grinned at Burin, powered up her restrictions and said, “I know a short cut.”
He clutched the arms of his chair as she rode the edges of gravitational fields before rocketing them into a jump that had them skimming around a gas giant and toward their destination.
It was his fault, he had chosen her as his partner, after all. He might have been better off with a ravenous toxic lizard, but now, he was stuck with her, and despite looking queasy, there was a proud grin on his face.
“I suppose that everyone has a kink, yours is losing your lunch.” She winked and made contact with the colony.
“Ah, the tension is great, but the sweet relief after is a kink I would gladly chase. Now, turn off your suit and get to work.” He winked and settled back in his seat, watching the com streams and bringing up neighbourhood images of where the young woman had last been seen.
It was business as usual for the Citadel, and Wiyra had to admit, she enjoyed it.
Author’s Note
Why do we like happily ever after? Why do authors plot death and destruction? Why do I keep putting these notes at the end of each book? Life is a mystery.
Next Tales of the Citadel will be Walking Haunt. After that Tales, the series will be going on a slight hiatus while I finish writing a dozen tiny sci-fi fairy tales. From one tale to the next, I am going to skip along. The Tales of the Citadel will return at Xmas. Yes, it is horrible of me, but I acknowledge my bad timing.
The spur to this decision was the lack of cover art and a busy cover artist. I already have the covers for the fairy tales, and so, they will soon be gracing your eBook readers if you so choose.
Thanks for reading,
Viola Grace
http://www.violagrace.com
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[email protected]
About the Author
Viola Grace was born in Manitoba, Canada where she still resides today. She really likes it there. She has no pets and can barely keep sea monkeys alive for a reasonable amount of time. Her line of day job tends to be analytical which leaves her mind hopping to weave stories. No co-worker is safe from her character analysis. In keeping with busy hands are happy hands, her hobbies have included cross-stitch, needlepoint, quilting, costuming, cake decorating, baking, cooking, metal work, beading, sculpting, painting, doll making, henna tattoos, chain mail, and a few others that have been forgotten. It is quite often that these hobbies make their way into her tales.
Viola’s fetishes include boots and corsetry, and her greatest weakness is her uncontrollable blush. Her writing actively pursues the Happily Ever After that so rarely occurs in nature. It is an admirable thing and something that we should all strive for. To find one that we truly like, as well as love.
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