by Robin Lovett
It doesn’t mean I can let emotion cloud my decision-making, but we do need Assura. She’s vital to our mission. Everyone knows it. They can’t doubt it.
“Thanks, Tanery,” I sigh.
She pats me on the shoulder. “Keep working. It’ll keep your mind off it.”
I wipe sweat from my brow. “I’m trying.”
“She’ll come back. Have faith in her.”
I nod without a word and help carry the panel out the hole blown in the side of the ship. We navigate down the makeshift stairs we created out of debris.
The crew has organized themselves in taking the salvaged parts up the hillside to the camp, without my needing to give the order. It was the best choice we could’ve made, abolishing the strict chain of command, giving the crew the rights to make decisions for themselves without the approval of an officer.
There are some men, but we’re mostly women, which was a pleasant surprise for all of us. To maintain the Ten Systems military’s one-gender regulation, we worked so hard to assert ourselves as male, hidden by our armor, visored helmets, and voice scramblers, that we fooled each other. We didn’t realize our rebellion was made of so many females or gender non-conforming individuals until we crash-landed here during our initial skirmish with the Ssedez and shed our armor when it kept us from coping with the jungle heat.
The men in our crew so far seem to be behaving themselves, as I’ve heard no complaints. Hopefully, it will stay that way.
A group laughs, and witnessing the joy amidst the tragedy of losing our ship lets me smile again. Other than Assura’s capture, we lost no one to the carnage yesterday. We’re still free.
Assura will be okay. She has to be. She can take care of herself. I know this.
But why hasn’t she made contact? She must still be imprisoned on Dargule’s ship. Reasonably, I know I should give her until the next sunrise, and Dargule is unlikely to kill her right away.
He’s more likely to hurt her. Cruelly.
I shake the horrible thoughts from my head. It helps nothing to dwell on what might be happening to Assura. I have work to do. But the urge to go after her is thundering inside my head.
The crew is safe here. They are capable of leading themselves in our new democratic system. To have an autocratic general is no longer necessary. I could leave and go help Assura. They don’t need me here. The Fellamana are our allies and helped protect us from the Hades and the attacks. They’re helping us still. But the real obstacle to my plan is I have no way to go after her.
I have no starship. Unless Koviye helps me.
“Lieutenant General,” his voice sounds beside me, as though he heard me think his name, as though he knew I wanted him.
I turn and look at him. A smile graces his lips—or not a smile. It’s different, something other. He is an alien, after all. It’s more like…desire? Like his facial expression exposes the inner workings of his want for me, the kind of thing I seek to hide in my expression.
I school my mouth from curving and keep my eyes from widening.
Heat, molten and burning, ignites in my center. Koviye walks toward me, and my vision blurs, hazes of sensual things distracting me. The way he moves, his muscled body lithe and strong, encased in a blue uniform of similar material to mine…
None of the other Fellamana wear something like it. Their uniforms are made of the material like the robe I first saw him in, the same one he appeared in my dreams with, a material that is pale, iridescent, and hides nothing of their figures. The Fellamana are not a modest people.
Except for Koviye in his unique uniform.
“Did you wear this for me?” I ask once he’s close enough others won’t hear.
He brushes a hand over his chest. “This?”
I gesture to the gray equivalent I wear and have always worn beneath my armor since I was forced into military service at fifteen. “Yours looks a lot like mine.”
“That was the point.” His smile, or sensual expression, whatever it’s called, deepens. “Do you like it?”
I’d been too distracted with the invading Ten Systems ship and the kidnapping of Assura yesterday to notice.
“I had it made for you,” he says, and his candor makes me uneasy. Though he doesn’t say it in a creepy way. “I thought a garb more comparable to yours might make you feel more comfortable around me than my Fellamana clothes.”
“You’ve thought about me that much?”
“More, lulipah. So much more.” His voice is low and intimate, but his posture is not. He keeps a professional distance from me, not betraying to my crew that we’re speaking of anything but professional things.
I force my gaze away from him, onto the jungle vegetation surrounding the Origin wreckage. The plants are a cornucopia of blue, purple, and dark green leaves, the trees massive and centuries old. No creatures are visible, but their sounds are as pervasive in the air as the mist that is a constant over the ground of this place.
I suspect the mist, the heavy humidity, is the real source of the desidre toxin that’s torturing my body into the heat of its Ulreya mating period. Which shouldn’t have happened at all thanks to my Ten Systems’ military bioengineering. Even without the Ten Systems’ interference, my mating period shouldn’t have started for another decade.
But my body has been changing.
I have to clear my head of him, think about my crew, my work—not how I’m slowly losing control of myself each day.
“I brought something for you,” he says, bringing my attention back to him. His tone has changed to an official one, the intimate expression on his face settling into a more official regard. “It may help your situation.” He gestures to our war-ravaged ship wreckage.
My interest is piqued. “Show me.”
With a nod, he turns and leads the way up the hillside to the edge of our camp. My heartbeat accelerates as I walk behind him, watching his ass move in that uniform. I’ve held off the pain of the mating urge seizing my body all morning, but with him in front of me, it comes flooding back. I have a flash of nausea and have to stop.
I grab onto a tree and close my eyes, trying to calm the spinning feeling in my head, to breathe through the discomfort draining my thoughts and self-control.
“Jenie.” The rush of leaves from his footsteps, then the warmth of his body near me. Koviye brushes his hand up and down my arm. “It hurts, doesn’t it?”
I groan and shake off his touch. It sends a hunger shooting across my skin. The desire to grab him and shove him against the tree and rub my body against him until I come, until he comes, is a tidal force inside me. I want to feed on his mouth like the starving creature I am, to devour him and find out if all the promises in his eyes will fulfill the need screaming in my body.
I am heat; I am want.
I realize my hands are on his chest, kneading and probing at his muscles. I cannot open my eyes for fear I will give in to it all. My body rages, and I cannot feel anything but my desire to touch him.
The conflict wars within me. I cannot, should not give in to this. But it hurts. God, it hurts.
“Let me kiss you,” he whispers, his voice a harsh rasp, as though he feels this, too, as though my agony echoes in him. “Please.”
My tongue is too thick to speak. For an answer, I lift my chin and open my mouth.
He takes it.
It’s not a moan that breaks from my throat; it’s a purr from my chest. The firm press of his lips to mine is a spark to the fire already burning in me. I thrust my tongue between his lips, and he meets it. He opens wide; his mouth is a cavern for my discovery.
The texture of him reminds me he’s not human. He feels nothing like anyone I’ve kissed before. His mouth is not delicate and fleshy like a human’s. It’s smooth and flawless, fascinating to my tongue.
Unsatisfied with how deeply I can explore him, I grab him by his uniform and maneuver him against the tree. He bends his knees to my height, and I delve into his mouth as far as I can go. I wish in vain my tongue were long
er, that I could experience the depths of his throat and everything there is to know about this strange man—alien—male—who captures my imagination and desire so completely, he alone severs my control.
It’s blissful, the release of my passion, the relief on the pressure valve bottling up my carnal urges. I step between his thighs and rub against him shamelessly, feel him hard between his hips, delectably long and thick.
My lips pause, and I pant against his mouth, writhing. The burn of an orgasm, the pleasure of him against my clit, even through our clothes, has me on the brink of coming.
“Jenie, Jenie,” he moans. His voice sounds like he wants more, but his hands, they grasp my hips and pull me away from him. “Are you sure about this?”
His words are fuzzy in my ears, and I push against his hands. To stop without an orgasm will cause me physical pain.
“We can keep going if you want,” his breath gusts hard in my ear. “But I don’t want you to regret anything the moment we’re done.”
I force myself to stop breathing. He stopped me—he stopped us, why? Why would he do that? I don’t know how he knows, but he’s right; if we keep going like I want to, I will regret this. I hold my breath, trying to regain control of myself. My limbs start to shake.
He cradles my face in his hands. “Can you look at me? Open your eyes to me?”
I realize they’ve been closed this whole time, and I do as he says. It doesn’t help. The colors flowing beneath his skin glow with desire, with need, and I stroke his face, too.
“Do you want to stop?” he whispers, his fingertips so gentle on my cheeks, it gives me the courage to breathe again.
I inhale and nod. “Yes.” I’m an impulse away from tearing his clothes off, from ripping mine away, from fucking him mercilessly until I come around him so hard, my body surrenders to everything paining me. The need burning inside me clouds my judgment.
I drop my head to his shoulder and groan a sound of frustration so loud, it bounces off the trees. Koviye tries to hold me in a comforting way, but I push away from him. I can’t be touching him.
If I were fully human, this wouldn’t be a problem. If I hadn’t inherited these cursed hormones from my mother, I could be having as much sex with him as I wanted. If I were 100 percent human, I wouldn’t be in pain. And I could be finding joy instead of misery in this fucked up desidre. I could be on my knees doing the dirty with this alien right now.
But forming a mating bond is not an option. Even if it means never having sex again. I would rather live without a sex life than lose my will to be alive. Or my chance for revenge on the Ten Systems.
I have a rebellion to help lead, the Ten Systems to outrun, and a mission to fulfill. I have no time for a Fellamana male who has as much inclination toward monogamy as fire does to water.
He’ll break my heart if I let him in. Over and over and over.
Chapter Four
Koviye
She walks away from me—the curves of her body undulating and hypnotizing me. I’d be on my knees for her, if I thought it would do me any good. As it is, I go after her.
She turns up the path but stops. “Thank you,” she says tightly without looking at me.
“If you’re thanking me for kissing you, that’s…” Irrelevant? Unnecessary? I’m not sure of the right word. Learning languages is something most Fellamana are skilled at because our planet has so many. I learned hers a week ago, in five days, after she and her crew crash-landed here. I pick a phrase I heard her say once, “The pleasure is mine.”
“I mean, for stopping me.”
Which is even more unnecessary. “What kind of Fellamana would I be if I took advantage of you and did specifically what you told me not to do because the desidre is clouding your senses? Having sex with someone without their full consent is against our code of law.”
She heaves an agonized sigh. “I’m grateful for that.”
“I am trusting—trustmore—trust—” I groan in frustration. My shock at the thought of evil humans capable of violating someone’s consent clouds my new understanding of their language. “You can trust me.”
“Perhaps.” She cracks a smile. “You said you had something to show me?”
“Yes.” I walk around her and lead her to my surprise.
We stop on the edge of a clearing away from her camp. No one else is around. There’s nothing here except a hot, grassy field filled with sunshine, insects darting from leaf to leaf, and small creatures chirping in the undergrowth. A horned-insect, blinking a purple light in its tail, leaps past, humming its mating song.
She looks at the empty field then at me. “Is something missing?”
I step forward, feel in front of me for the invisible panel, and press my palm to the sensor. As though from nowhere, a ship appears, the invisibility shield retracting.
I glance back to watch her reaction to our Fellamana technology, so different from her Ten Systems’ ship that was constructed of bulky, ugly gray metal. Her face, which was tight with the misery of her denied desire, relaxes and transforms to excitement.
“Extraordinary.” She walks forward to caress the windowed walls of the ship and their elegant rounded corners. “She’s off-planet ready? How can so much glass withstand the vacuum of space?”
“Your translation of ‘glass’ isn’t quite accurate. This light cruiser is made of a much more indestructible material forged out of minerals unique to our planet. She’ll have no problems with space travel.”
Jenie moves in a circle around the small ship, examining it from all sides. “It’s not very big.”
“She’s quick and stealthy—which are your priorities in going after Assura, right?” If her stare of surprise weren’t enough to show me I’m right, her emotional aura shifts from light green curiosity to a violet satisfaction and makes it clear that my assumptions of what she requires are correct.
I can’t help a swelling of pride in my chest. I’ve pleased her.
Step one in gaining her trust, so that I can help her with her body’s more immediate problem. It’s much worse today. Her kisses were as stunningly explosive as I knew they would be. When she really lets go and indulges herself, her primal physical need will be utterly exquisite.
I can’t wait to see her and feel her when it happens. If she’ll permit me. The color changes in her aura when I’m near are a gift. They let me know she undoubtedly wants me physically, but the contrasting blends in her emotional hues tell me how conflicted she is about her desires for me, how she’s trying and failing to suppress them. The question is whether she’ll stop fighting her needs and let herself have me.
She swallows and looks away, attempting to conceal her intimate facial expression from me.
“Why do humans do that?” I ask. “Why do you try to hide your feelings?” I don’t add that it’s impossible around me since I can feel and see her emotions.
“Do Fellamana read minds?” she snaps. “How did you know I wanted to go after Assura so badly?”
I don’t miss her evasion of my question. My Jenie is very protective and secretive. If I didn’t know from feeling her emotions that she is genuine, I’d say it was intentional to make me more curious to learn about her, because that’s the result. “I can’t read your mind. But I can read your emotions. I feel them as though they are tangible.” I step closer and hold out my hand, caressing the energy of her desire radiating through the air.
A deep breath fills her lungs, and her mouth falls open. She looks at my hand. “What are you doing?” She feels it, my easing of the need burning through her.
“All beings give off energy. I can see it. Soothe it.” I step closer, not touching her but stroking my hand inches above her middle, where the energy from her is strongest.
Her eyes fall closed, and her breathing, which was tight with resistance, calms. “How do you do that?”
“If you let me hold your hand, I can make you feel better.”
Without opening her eyes, she reaches for me, and I interlace our
fingers together.
I don’t want to shock her, so as lightly as possible, I trickle sensations of tranquility down my fingers into hers. They are sensations that are fit and tailored to merge with the sensual ache tormenting her, to appease it. It only works skin to skin and will only last as long as I’m touching her, but even if I can only give her a moment of peace, it’s worth a try.
A sigh of relief echoes from her, and her grip on my hand tightens. I have the desire to press us together, to give this peace to every inch of her bare skin. But I withhold it. She would sense the intensity of my feelings as well, and that would scare her.
Her whole body relaxes from her neck downward, and the desire beating inside her changes. Her resistance and fear loosens, and she’s able to merely feel her emotions pleasurably, rather than with pain and discomfort.
Her eyes open, and there’s fascination. “How did you know about Assura?”
“I saw your reunion with her, how you hugged and kissed her. You care about her, and when you learned she was taken hostage, you felt fear. You’ve been uneasy ever since.”
“I have to wait until the end of the day. If we don’t hear from her by the next sunrise, then I’m going after her.”
“I’ll come with you.”
She pulls her hand away, and abruptly, our connection is severed. My body quakes with the loss of her. As much as it is satisfying to her when I touch her, it satiates my need for her, too. But only for a moment. Now the lust comes back full force.
The change in her is immediate. “I can’t be alone with you. I’m not getting on that tiny ship with just you.” She sneers at me as though I’m her worst enemy, as though moments ago, I wasn’t helping her.
I don’t understand the abrupt shift. “Jenie, you can trust me. I won’t—”
“I won’t trust you for anything. You’re flirting with me; you’re trying to seduce me. That’s all this is. You don’t give a shit about Assura.”
It’s my turn to get angry. “I know her, too, in case you’ve forgotten. I watched her heal in our hospital. I kept the Fellamana council from imprisoning her. I brought her to you, for gods’ sakes. How could you think I don’t care what happens to her?”
