Taken to Lemora

by Elizabeth Stephens

  “I love you, miriga.”

  His mouth crashes against mine as his body moves slowly, slowly, slowly, pushing past invisible walls neither of us can feel. It takes us half a lunar — or it takes us only instances — for him to finally stretch me wide enough to take all of him. We both cry out when his hips come flush against mine…and then I feel the barb poking at my butt.

  “Are you okay?”

  He barely gets the words out before I shout to the heavens, “YEFFA!”

  He chuckles momentarily, his hand smoothing my hair away from my face before he reaches beneath me, fingers sliding over the smooth curve of my ass that’s half red, half brown. “I will put my lower spur in you now…” he croaks, sounding like a male dying of thirst. “I won’t easily be able to retract it, so if you want it out, please tell me right away. It’ll hurt if you try to pull away, or so I’m told.” He sounds desperate and pained, but I nod vigorously.

  “Please…I want it in…I want you in everywhere.”

  “Augh, stars, Essmira. You’re a perfect thing.”

  He kisses my forehead and closes his eyes and my toes curl when I feel him prodding at my second hole…the tight one that isn’t nearly ready for what he’s about to insert into it. Raingar must sense this when he pushes his finger inside, because he gathers some of the fluid that’s dripped down my crease and massages it inside of me. Then he replaces his finger with the small protruding appendage all Lemoran males are born with and I feel the tip, which is neither spiky nor furry but a combination of both, enter inside of me and lodge there with frightening permanency.

  I wince at the fullness and the painful sensation when he shifts, and then my eyes roll back when Raingar sits up, changing the angle enough that the smaller barb on the top of his penis can flood my core while his thumb works the small bundle of nerves outside of my body. His hands are so much more gentle this time, and I can’t stand it.

  “Ohr!” I shriek. The sensations are overwhelming. I slam both of my hands down beside me on the sheets.

  “Is it too much?”

  “Comets, yeffa! Yeffa, Raingar!”

  “I’ll pull out…just give me…”

  Threats of murder are all I can think and I lunge forward and grab his neck and crush his mouth with mine. Against the taste of dew and a thousand sunrises, I whisper, “If you stop now, I will throw you into the Dark Flats. Claim me, Raingar. Do it now.”

  He laughs huskily against me and kisses me back bruisingly, but I want it. I want all of it. “Your wish is my command, miriga.”

  Like he’s been given permission to truly let go, his movements turn savage in an instant. Sitting all the way back on his heels, he grabs my calves and holds them out in front of him, leaving me vulnerable and open to his invasion.

  “Stars, miriga…” he gasps. “The sight of you like this…I’m never going to leave this bed.”

  “Don’t. Because I want to stay.”

  He moans and his eyes roll back and ripples of heat flood my body. His spurs latch inside of me and don’t let go and their pressure scrapes pleasure through my front and tighter holes, making me scream as the weight of multiple orgasms crash down on me simultaneously. Wetness leaks out of my body, surging against my thighs and plunging lower to cover the curves of my ass.

  “Raingar, yeffa! Please, come close…I want you close…” But the bastard slams my legs together and ruts me like this. Closing my legs around his cock makes me feel like he’s reentering me for the first time all over again. I moan at the huge, swollen pressure inside of me. I lose sense of time. Everything tastes new and wonderful and different. I’m never coming down from this. “Raingar…”

  “Miriga. I am your servant,” he grunts, his horns coming down to frame my face as he presses my knees into my chest.

  “You are my king.”

  “Then you are my goddess.”

  I laugh and his lips find mine and I lose myself to the sound of our flesh slapping. I manage to get him to pull back enough for me to spread my legs beneath him, bringing us closer together, close enough that I can reach around and slide my middle finger into his asshole.

  “Essmira!” He shouts, eyes lighting with surprise an instant before he comes again, face twisting up.

  I smile until the pressure of his uneven thrusts becomes too much and my sensitive clit begs for relief…

  An orgasm blitzes me and I gasp when I surface and I look up, past Raingar’s face at the thunderous sky. It’s a dark indigo, but bursts of gold and green threaten to fall down and wreck us. But I am already wrecked, lost to the magical embrace of whatever this thing is called Xiveri. Wrecked, but not lost, because I’m safe in the arms of the one I call Xiveri.

  I hold him close and he clutches me to his chest as a final, terrible pressure rips the last of the breath from my lungs and every fiber tightens within me. His rear spur digs into my ass and his cock throbs inside of me along with his frontal spur, which holds our bodies locked together.

  “Don’t let go,” he groans.

  “I’ll never let go…” But my arms go limp and our hips buck against one another unevenly, thumping madly as we both chase our releases to the stars.

  “Raingar!”

  “Ohring miriga!” He howls, the cords of his neck straining before he tips to the side and explodes.

  We clutch one another fiercely while the sands explode above and the ocean between my legs sends final shocks scattering through me. Our breath is mingled and shared. His chest heaves against my breasts. My inner walls ripple and his spur stays hard and knotted inside of me, owning me.

  “I lied,” I gasp, leaning up to kiss him anywhere my mouth can reach. His chin, his neck, the V at the base of his throat. “I want to be your pleasure female. I want to present to you whenever you want to have me. I want more, all the time, as rough as you want to give it. I want this forever.”

  He grabs the back of my head and pulls my face up to his. His spurs scrape in my channels and his erection has yet to go anywhere. I’ve never felt so full as his tongue invades my mouth and his hands reverently worship every inch of my skin. He cups my breasts roughly and I gasp, torso flooding with delight as I start to rock against him all over again.

  “This will never end. You are mine, miriga. Mine.”

  “Yeffa.”

  “I want to hear you say it,” he snarls and I feel the tide shifts as he returns — this beast that frightened me when we first tried to rut. Only this time, kind Raingar is there holding the leash. I can still feel him curbing his touch, trying not to hurt me. Only this time, I’m ready because my passion matches his just as savagely.

  “I’m yours.”

  “To rut and to protect.”

  “To rut…and to protect,” I gasp as he starts to pound into me more aggressively from this new position, lying on our sides just as we are.

  “To hold and to love.”

  “To hold and to love.”

  “I love you, miriga.”

  “I love you, Raingar.”

  He reaches between us and his thumb gently brushes my slick, swollen nub. Between that, his words and the wet, sloppy slapping of our bodies…it’s too much. “I’m going to come again, Raingar.”

  “Yeffa, you are. Come for me, Essmira,” his tone is a dark order, not to be ignored.

  My head tosses back and I cry out to the sky as ripples of release claim me and bind me to this male who’s captured me in his arms. He squeezes me to him and makes a choked sound as he comes again and we spiral together, over and over again until the sky turns black and the colors from the Dark Flats burst even brighter and Raingar drags me onto his chest, pulling a blanket over my back, his spurs and cock still lodged deep in my body and I know that this thing called Xiveri is sated as alien colors leak from my mouth across his polished chest and I am happy. The happiest female in the cosmos.

  His fingers tangle in my hair and he whispers, “Do not fall asleep, miriga. I will take you again soon.”

  Laughter whi
spers from my lips across his chest. My eyelids are weighted, even as my core tingles, hot and wet for my male. My mate. My nails scrape over his chest and I coo, “I trust you.”

  He rolls onto me in a flourish, and we begin anew.

  Eight solars later…

  19

  Raingar

  “Say it,” I grunt, pounding into her. I’m far too large, but she can take it. She won’t break, least of all on my account.

  I hold her hips in my hands and pound into her from behind. Since discovering this unholy position, I haven’t let her out of it. She may be the pleasure female, but she likes relinquishing control as much as I like taking it. She’s my female now.

  “I’m yours…” she says breathily, choking on my every stroke.

  “My what?”

  “Your…Xiveri!” She releases a high, breathy scream before tumbling forward. I chase her there, my shorter spur now lodged in her puckered and convulsing rear entrance while my longer spur squeezes inside of her along with my erection. I empty everything I have into her body. Everything.

  We collapse beside one another on the bed, but Essmira’s only docile for a few breaths. Gathering the rest, she loops her leg over my hips and lowers herself down, throwing her head back. She milks me for pleasure, her body seizing up on top of mine. I catch her when she falls down before I empty into her a fourth time. Again and again and again until a furious knocking rouses us from our lust and forces me to the door.

  “Raingar!” Gorman shouts on the other side of it. “Essmira! The Asgid have arrived! The festivities are beginning! You are missing them!”

  I fling the door open wide and Gorman’s eyes flood with horror. His fins spasm viscerally — the one on the right side having been surgically reattached thanks to new grafting technology we managed to procure from a Hypha settlement — as he drinks in the sight of my grey, cum-stained skin.

  “We’ll be a moment!” I shout, a shit-eating grin splitting my face.

  Gorman’s horrified expression concentrates on my face, then. He blinks a dozen times in rapid succession. I smile big now at everyone, so they can see all my teeth. It sends younglings running from me in terror. They don’t know who I am now. But I can’t stop.

  “Why are you grinning like that!” Gorman shouts. “You look deranged!”

  “Rutting! I like rutting. Essmira’s exceedingly proficient.”

  “Raingar!” Essmira’s voice gets louder as she comes around the corner wearing a beautiful robe. A thick robe. If Gorman ever sees her bare, as he’s like to one of these solars given how often he has to rouse us for our duties, a missing fin will have been the least of his life’s worries. Two missing eyes will be a lot harder to replace.

  She comes and takes my arm, placing herself between Gorman and me. “We’ll be down in just a moment. In the meantime, you can give our guests a tour of the keep and prepare the pad pad chariots to take the Asgid down to the Dark Flats. I made sure that, by solarbreak everything was already well on its way to being set up. There should already be helpers there with lobba and other refreshments to greet our guests. Give the musicians notice that they should be playing when the first chariot arrives.”

  Gorman just stares at her and then at me, looking like he’s about to faint.

  “You heard the female!” I bark.

  Gorman seems more comfortable with that tone of voice from me because he straightens and nods and his mouth finally snaps shut. He goes to say something else, but I slam the door between us, rip the robe off of my female, slam her against the door and with one gentle thrust, I’m back inside.

  And then I rut her ruthlessly three more times.

  The festivities have already started by the time we ride down to the Dark Flats. I complain the entire time, asking my miriga repeatedly when we can go home. “Perhaps we can steal away during the party,” she says and I agree, kissing her on the side of the temple, even though I know there’s no chance of that. Not with the surprise I have planned.

  Still, I like to hear that she’s just as needy as I am.

  We dismount and she weaves through the crowd, speaking to everyone. By the time she’s finished making her rounds, the sky is dark and the Asgid are oohing and awing over the kintarr sand fields and the light show that they put on for us, sipping on lobba and gobbling down food and fares from their own home world — a world that was destroyed many rotations ago, but whose cultures and customs live on through its descendants and will never die because of it.

  My torturously beautiful miriga turns to me and places her hands on my chest. “So, what do you think about stealing away now?”

  She lifts an eyebrow, that delicate fur, and I sigh, “I can’t believe you’re mine.” I touch her small ear and follow the red curl down until it meets the brown. She is so beautiful. Every part of her. Especially when she opens her mouth and the little bumps lining the top of her tongue shine.

  I lean down and kiss her and, when my chest constricts, I lean down and kiss her again. Then once more, even more roughly. Now that I’m polished, she likes it when I’m rough. My hands harden around her arms and my cock hardens in my trousers. I keep telling her she needs to make me an armored crotch so that my cock can stop fighting the material, but so far she hasn’t done it, the insufferable wench.

  “Raingar,” she mewls dangerously and her mouth shines brighter in a way I know she has no control of, but that embarrasses her every time. She bites her bottom lip, but I free it. I like the color. All her colors.

  “Pagh,” I groan. “I can’t believe I will have to deny the most beautiful female in the galaxies.”

  “Deny!” She screeches.

  “Shh!” I laugh anyway, especially as a group of drunk Asgid on course for us veer down to the next platform quickly. “We’ll go home later…” In a long while, I’m sure. “For now, there’s a delegation I want you to meet.”

  “A delegation? But I thought I controlled the guest list?” She challenges, pouting adorably.

  Who knew that my little pleasure female would turn out to be such a control freak. “You do, miriga,” I say in my most placating tone — a tone I didn’t even know I possessed until now.

  “But you invited guests without notifying me.”

  “Just a little mistake, that’s all.”

  “I don’t like it.”

  I bark out a wild laugh and sling one arm over her shoulders. I take her closest hand. I bring it to my lips as I steer her down, away from the Asgid, away from the platforms where the party is at its thickest, to those where things are a little more subdued.

  Asgid, Rekkaru, Lemoran, hybrids and Hypha all stretch out, lounging on the beds, carpets and poufs Essmira organized. They smoke from large water pipes and stuff themselves silly. But I’m not looking for these creatures. I’m looking for just two.

  I guide Essmira down two levels to a platform shrouded in shadows. Close to the Dark Flats, it’s illuminated primarily by their light, which I know is the only reason Essmira hasn’t panicked yet. But as soon as we step onto the platform and the two figures rise, one much, much larger than the other, and Essmira wades into the light of the torches and sees them, she freezes.

  I chuckle and gesture between my female and the off-worlders. “Essmira, this is the Raku and Rakukanna of Voraxia, and their kit, the Rakuka of Voraxia. Raku, Rakukanna, this is Essmira, my mate and miriga to our clan.”

  The tall, blue-skinned Voraxian male steps forward and surprises me when he offers Essmira the Lemoran greeting. He catches the air and brings it to his heart. “It is an honor to meet you,” he says and I know no greater honor than having my mate addressed by this male. Not like this. Not on the planes of my home beneath a brilliant sunset made of exploding kintarr sands while, in his other arm, there lies a sleeping kit.

  A hybrid with her mother’s red skin and her father’s straight black hair, her tail hangs limply over the cradle of his forearm as she coos softly in her sleep. She is so little. Such a perfect little thing. My hold on E
ssmira’s shoulder slides down to her low back as she wavers, likely in shock.

  “I…I…” she stammers in Voraxian and I laugh. It’s one of the few times I’ve seen her anything less than eloquent. “I mean…forgive me. I am honored to meet you Raku, Rakukanna, Rakuka,” she says, inclining her head at the little one as she offers them the Lemoran greeting in return.

  It is the Rakukanna however, who steps forward and abandons all sense of formality. She pulls my female roughly away from me and throws her arms around my female’s neck. She is just shorter than Essmira and would look entirely Drakesh were it not for her facial features and the soft brown curls growing out of her head, so much looser and lighter than Essmira’s.

  She says something against Essmira’s neck that sounds like, “Sanke dee zstaares,” before she repeats in Voraxian, “I can’t believe I’m meeting you.”

  Slowly, so slowly, Essmira lifts her arms — they’re shaking — and she hugs the female back, gripping her tighter and tighter until it looks like we might need Niahhorru machinery in order to pry the females apart.

  In Voraxian, Essmira replies, “It is my honor, Rakukanna…”

  “Nox, nox. None of that, now. It’s Miari and you’re Essmira and for all that it matters, we’re sisters.”

  “Sisters?”

  “Sisters, hexa. There were six of us hybrids born at the same time, but we were scattered to the stars. I never thought…” Her voice hitches and she rubs at her face, smearing the paint she wears around her eyes. She looks nothing like a Rakukanna should, and yet the male at her side could not look more proud. I feel my own chest puff out in response as he meets my gaze and gives me a gentle nod.

  You know, I think I might actually come to tolerate this male.

  The Rakukanna — Miari — sniffs again, this time more deeply, and loops her arm through Essmira’s. I don’t mind as she guides my female away from me and they take a seat on one of the low poofs. I just stand behind her and wait, as I will wait for her for the rest of my life — impatiently, perhaps, but I’ll do it.