by Alana Khan
I love all of our differences—his pointed ears, those canine teeth, his pelt of fur. If this is the way of his people, then it will be my way, too. I secretly hope the shift doesn’t hurt, but if it does, I’ll embrace that too. The sacrifices I’m willing to make for him will be my way of declaring my deep and abiding love for him.
“I already said yes to being your mate, Bayne. But now that you’ve given me full disclosure I give full consent. I’d be honored.”
I never thought his eyes could look more golden, but they do. They shine brightly for me.
“Part of the mating is for you to tell this to WarDog,” he says seriously.
I’m surprised. I’ve never been sure how much Bayne understands in his canine form—how sentient he is.
“I’m all-in,” I tell him with a smile and a nod.
Bayne steps out of his chair, removes his clothes, crouches, then turns into my favorite hound. I recall the first shift I witnessed, when he morphed from canine to humanoid in the dark catacombs on Aeon II. It was painful and left him panting on the filthy floor.
This shift is easy, and a happy two-hundred-pound animal greets me with a huge canine smile. He wanders over, sits between my feet, and puts his front paws in my lap. His mouth is slightly open, and he’s looking at me expectantly. As momma used to say, ‘somebody’s home and the lights are on’. There’s a smart being inside that shaggy head.
“I love you, WarDog.” I don’t feel silly saying this. In fact, it feels right.
He licks the back of my hand where I’m holding his paw, then nuzzles me with the depth of affection he’s shown me since the first moment we met on that abominable slaver ship. I might not have received all the love he gave me from the start, but I realize he’s always bombarded me with it.
“I’m going to be so happy to be your mate, too.”
He chuffs, then as quickly as he appeared, Bayne reappears.
I’m not even sure how I wind up on his lap. But I’m here in the heavenly warmth of his embrace. His cock kicks hard at my hip, and his mouth devours me, his tongue excavating the warm depths of my mouth.
We’ve been honeymooners for days—or as he would say, sweetmooners—exploring each other, learning each other's secret places, how to prolong our ecstasy, and the words that elevate the mundane to the incendiary.
Somehow I think we’re about to take our physical relationship to a whole new level, although I wonder how that’s even possible.
I straddle him in the small chair, not caring for either of our comfort, needing only some means of getting closer. His jutting cock presses the seam of my sex as I ride him, my fingers biting into the pelt on his shoulders.
Sex is different with Bayne. I love the delight he bestows, but he’s the first sex partner I’ve had where his pleasure is infinitely more important to me than my own.
“Tell me what you want, Love,” I demand as I arch my back, thrusting my breasts in his face. He has to be able to see my hardened nipples through my bra and t-shirt. “Want it hard? Soft? Fast? Slow? Quiet? Or do you want words?”
He gives me that lambent look that hints WarDog is as close to the surface as his inner being can get. I’m mating them both. I understand it now. I embrace it.
Instead of a verbal answer, he shows me as his calloused palm caresses my nape, his head bends to my level, and he kisses me as long and sweet and slow as two people can kiss.
Slow and silent—I get it. That’s what he wants, that’s what he shall have. My tongue greets his with lingering, heartfelt strokes. What’s going on above the waist is achingly sweet and intimate. What’s going on below the waist, however, is carnal as I feel every pull and drag of his hardened cock on my clit.
One minute more of this, two at the most, and I’ll be announcing my first orgasm of the evening with a moan—and I’m still fully clothed.
He knows the minutiae of my response cycle better than lovers I’ve had for years. Maybe he’s more attentive than anyone I've ever shared a bed with, or maybe it’s that canine nose. It doesn’t matter, I want him more right this minute than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.
He scoops me into his muscular arms and carries me to the bed, but sets me on the floor when we’re inches away. He pulls off my plain black t-shirt and bra with the utmost care, as if it’s part of a religious rite. Perhaps it is.
Hooking his thumbs in the waistband of my pants and panties, he sweeps them down and pulls them off me, letting them lie on the floor near my top.
He takes my hand and leads us to the bed, making certain that we're both even, not wanting to take the lead tonight. We’re coming together consciously. Both of us are making the choice to mate for life. It doesn’t scare me like the idea of ‘until death do you part’ did on Earth. I welcome it.
I lie on the bed and he straddles my waist. While kissing and nibbling my throat, he arouses the hardened nubs of my breasts until I’m incapable of thought. Then he places himself at my entrance. I’m so slick, so ready, he could slide in to the hilt in one swift move.
But it isn’t like that tonight. He thrusts so slowly I can feel each of his bulges as they breach my entrance.
“That’s right, Bayne. Welcome home.” I glance at him and catch the smile that flickers on his lips. This male loves me, and my acceptance of him and everything he is is magic. For both of us.
He develops a rhythm so slow it’s maddening, but like everything else tonight, I embrace it.
I feel the tingle of impending orgasm whirling in my belly. He feels it too, or maybe it’s his sixth sense. Instead of forging ahead, though, he slows, then stops and drops a kiss on my lips.
“This way,” he says as he pulls out long enough to flip me over onto my stomach, then lifts me by my hip bones.
Of course, I should have known this would be doggy style. How fitting.
He slides back into me in one quick thrust as if we were never apart. The moment changes. Instead of feeling like we should be in a cathedral, we’re solidly in lust territory now. The long, slow thrusts are a memory as he slams into me. Only one hand holds me up from under my stomach, he’s using the other to circle my clit.
My orgasm is building, and I can tell it’s going to be a lightning storm of need and pleasure. Then his jaw clamps onto my shoulder. At first, his teeth are covered by his warm lips, but when I begin rocking back against him, trying to bury him into the depths of me, he exposes them and the sharp tips of his fangs make themselves known.
It pricks. I wouldn’t even call it pain. I’m not sure this is the bite he warned me about, or if there’s more to come.
My orgasm is swirling and building, ready to explode, and I hear my own grunts as I press back against him as hard as I can, trying to push myself over the edge.
When the first spasm starts, his teeth press more deeply into my flesh. He warned me, and he was right. It hurts. The pain is so sharp my orgasm decides to retreat for a second. Then an explosion of bliss blasts through me.
It’s so powerful that if one of his arms wasn’t still holding me up I would collapse on the bed. White lightning flashes inside my head. I feel it in my brain, which detonates pleasure bombs exploding in chain reactions from the top of my head to the soles of my feet.
I was so busy rocketing to the clouds that I missed his ejaculation, but I realize now that he came a moment ago. I feel his warmth inside me—liquid proof that what just happened was real.
It’s his saliva, or maybe his come or maybe the combination that set off an atomic bomb of bliss inside me. It doesn’t matter. It’s rapture. It’s heaven. It’s more pleasure than the human mind could imagine. He releases his teeth from my shoulder and licks the spot with soothing strokes even though the pain has long since vanished.
That good, Love?
“Wh-What?”
Just feel, my beautiful Willa. Just feel.
My internal muscles are still spasming as I’m dancing in the clouds when I realize my mate just spoke to me inside my head.
I love you, Bayne. Give me just a moment to enjoy every second of this.
And he does, still pumping into me in little pulses, drawing out the aftershocks of my pleasure. We’re tied. I love this part. The enforced strokes and cuddles and the biologically imposed intimacy.
Biology doesn’t have to force me to love you and stroke you, mate. I would do that whether we were tied or not.
Although I’m still panting, I’m breathing slower, deeper, returning to the here and now.
Precious, he says.
Beloved is my response. When do I turn into a canine? I was scared to death of it, but now I can’t wait.
When he doesn’t respond, I glance over my shoulder to look at him.
With Skylosians you would have turned by now, Love.
A wave of sadness unexpectedly gusts over me. We’re so connected—mentally and physically—that I can’t differentiate whether this is his sorrow or my own.
I’m so blessed to have you as a mate, Willa. I’m not sad.
We have a lot to learn, Bayne. The first thing I’m learning is that it’s going to be hard to lie to each other. You’re sad, so am I. It’s okay to admit it.
“Let’s give it time, Love. You’re not Skylosian.”
The swelling of his penis reduces, and he pulls out so he can turn me in his arms. He kisses my forehead as if I’m the most precious thing in the universe.
We have this, he says, this mental link. And we have each other.
He’s so right. A few months ago we were bound for a slave auction without a friend in the world and nothing in our future but misery. I’ve found a way to contribute doing something I love. I have two males who love me and whose only desire is to protect me. We have friends and love and more blessings than we can count.
I lean to kiss Bayne’s nose. Before I knew there was a Bayne, this is how I kissed WarDog. I got over the fact that it wasn’t hygienic the first day I met him. It’s our special thing. “I love you too, WarDog.”
Love.
Is that you, Wardog? Really? We can communicate?
Yes. You’re mine, Willa. My forever mate. I’ve loved you since the first moment we met.
And I you, big guy. And I you.
Epilogue
Two months later . . .
Willa
“Now that we’ve killed over a hundred tarantu-scorps, this is a pretty peaceful planet,” I tell Bayne as we tramp through the woods.
“Yes, Love.”
Have I told you lately how happy I am? I ask, a close-lipped smile stretched across my face.
I believe you mentioned it before, during, and after we made love this morning.
Am I mistaken or is there a slightly smug look on his face?
We hear a noise to our right. I’m not sure I heard correctly, but one glance at Bayne’s ears which are pricked in that direction tells me something’s out there. I grab my laser pistol more tightly as he nocks an arrow, but we both stand down when we see a little squirrel-like animal scurry across the forest floor.
We go hunting first thing almost every morning. Well, first thing after we make love. I remember being envious of Dr. Drayke and his mate Nova for how well they worked together due to their psychic connection. I never thought how handy it would be in the sex department, but being able to silently tell your partner when you want it softer or harder or a little to the right ensures maximum bedroom pleasure.
I wink at Bayne and he squinches both eyes at me in response. I don’t know how a guy can be huge and masculine yet be adorable at the same time. Somehow, he pulls it off.
Our hunting trips have become fun for me. As long as I’m armed with a laser and not a bow and arrow, I feel confident when we hunt the tarantu-scorps. Actually, I feel more than confident, I feel competent—and proud that I’m pulling my weight.
It feels great to know we’re ridding our forest of the creatures. It was a lucky break that Fairea was getting bad intergalactic press about the deadly animals—it was affecting their tourism.
It turns out Zar was correct in surmising that the tarantu-scorps, well he used their correct name, but I couldn’t possibly pronounce the word he used, were not native to this planet and have been causing havoc since Khour brought them here a year ago. They had no natural predators and their population was expanding at an alarming rate.
The selfish asshole had them brought in for his hunting pleasure, not giving a damn that it upset the ecosystem for miles around.
The bounty we collect for every kill has been a bonus for our little band of friends at Sanctuary. We even collected credits for the ones we killed at the campsite after Callista forwarded satellite pictures to the Fairean authorities.
Every single one of us has worked our asses off over the last eight weeks—those that can. So’Lan is still recuperating in the infirmary, but thankfully he’s progressing every day. One day when Bayne was visiting him, he asked if So’Lan would like to meet WarDog.
When he explained that it was actually thanks to WarDog that Bayne had discovered him barely alive in that black cell and that it was his canine that had ended Khour, So’Lan readily agreed. Now he asks for Bayne to shift every time he’s there. Turns out that my big scary four-legged warrior has the heart of an emotional assistance animal. Well, I knew that, and I’m thrilled he’s now helping someone else find comfort and strength.
Before we moved down here, I spent countless hours talking to Star, who’s in charge of the hydroponic gardens on both ships. We poured over the Intergalactic Database and found some hearty fruits, vegetables, and legumes that will grow well here on Fairea. The timing couldn’t have been better because we arrived at the perfect season to plant our crops.
Not only am I having a blast cultivating crops that I hope will get us through next winter, but I’m also working on animal husbandry, too. My ultimate goal is to raise enough arlacks to sell at the local market. For now, we’ve bought enough to begin a herd as well as feed everyone in the compound. They’re as big as cows, but not quite as docile, and their favorite grasses just happen to cover our sizable south pasture.
Their meat is delicious, and their hides are strong and supple. Dawn said she met a male in the market when she takes in the extra eggs to sell, who works with leather. Sounds promising.
With Bayne’s support, I’ve decided to achieve my dream and work toward my veterinary degree. It’s a big step, and the program doesn’t start for several months, but I’ve already been accepted.
My dyslexia was always a handicap, but this program is taught mostly by vid on the Intergalactic Database. The tests aren’t timed, and with the use of the translator function, I’ll be able to keep up with all the other students. There’s a college nearby where twice a year an instructor will provide hands-on training. Although it won’t be easy, I know I can do it. The prospect is exciting.
The wild game Bayne brings in from his hunts supplements what we’re using from the arlacks. We feel a sense of accomplishment that we’re both an important part of our group. Although he prides himself on his hunting ability, he’s been invaluable tending the arlacks as well. It turns out WarDog is an amazing herder. His size intimidates the big animals and with me being able to mind link and communicate exactly what I need him to do we can move the growing herd quickly and efficiently. WarDog loves being able to contribute, and I enjoy watching him run to his heart’s content.
I’d initially worried about group dynamics, but natural leaders have stepped forward, and our community is progressing nicely, although not without squabbles and pitfalls. A few people seem to be pairing off, and there are a few who can barely stand to be in the same room as each other. I guess that’s to be expected in a group as large and diverse as ours.
The secret offworld trips that Naomi arranges have definitely piqued my interest. They return with scads of money, but I’m told information about them is on a need-to-know basis. They’ve also informed me I’m not on the need-to-know list. Those in the inner circle reassure me we’re s
afe, so I guess I can handle being in the dark, even though my curiosity threatens to kill me.
It was a great idea to stay on Fairea, Love. I tell Bayne. As much as I liked our friends on the vessels, I never would have been this happy on the ship. Digging in the dirt, helping birth ugly arlack babies, and watching my mate get to run on all-fours.
I’m happier to have a bow in my hand and my feet on the land, he admits.
And my paws, WarDog chimes in.
Since we’ve seen no arthropods and the forest is safe, Bayne will be shifting any minute. We have a routine. When he runs off on four legs, I stand with my back against a tree, my laser in my hand, and I watch him until his tail disappears as he lopes away.