by Keira Conrad
He brought his hand to his mouth and sucked his fingers clean, hollowing his cheeks as he strained for every last drop of her sweetness.
“Oh, God,” she said. Part of her thought he might be a god. He knew what her body wanted. Anticipated her every need and fulfilled it. She dropped a hand to the crown of his head and ran her fingers through his tousled hair.
She shuddered as he pushed his hand between her thighs again, to collect more of her sweetness. This time, he painted the slabs of his chest with her silky wetness. He massaged it into his skin, marking himself with her scent. Declaring himself for her.
He stared into her eyes as he moved to his knees for better leverage. He was ready to give her what she wanted.
He slid easily into her slick tunnel. Her knees buckled in delight. She started to collapse, but he leaned forward to steady her. He pushed her thighs over his shoulders and lifted her from the ground. She braced herself against the mossy rock as he buried his face in her pussy.
He was insatiable. His tongue explored every square centimeter of her womanhood. Every time she gasped or moaned or twitched, he paused, like he was making a mental note of all her favorite spots. He teased her with his lips, the flat of his tongue, and his chin. He licked, sucked, and teased until she was a quivering mess, and then he turned all his attention to her clit.
The pleasure was so intense it was almost agony. She buried both hands in his hair and tried to squirm away, but his grip was too strong. He pumped his fingers into her faster and harder, and when he added a third finger to his invasion, her body went rigid. She saw stars and spasmed as wave after wave of orgasm rolled through her.
He lowered her to the ground, and she lay there spent, with her thighs splayed. She looked utterly wanton. Everything was gone from her mind except him. He knelt between her thighs with his cock at the ready. Aftershocks still twitched through her as he guided his thick member to her quivering lips and thrust inside. She cried out with a strangled groan.
She was spent. She had nothing to give him. She didn’t even have the strength to reach down and touch herself. He grasped her hips and pulled her onto the top of his thighs. He rocked back and forth as he knelt there, rocking their bodies together in pleasure. He ground his hips against hers with every thrust. Her clit felt electric and she could feel her pussy start to contract again.
Beads of sweat ran down his neck and muscled torso. His abs flexed with every thrust and his pecs rippled as he fucked her. His luminous skin almost glowed in the sunlight. She certainly hadn’t crossed the galaxy expecting to find the perfect mate, and part of her still didn’t believe it. But their eyes locked and she knew it was real. She was the luckiest girl alive. She summoned her last reserves of strength to prop her torso on her elbows. She wanted to watch him as he came inside her.
He tipped his head to the sky and bellowed as his balls emptied. He held her there, tight against him, while his cock pulsed and spurted. He held her there, pressed against him, until he was completely spent and had started to soften. She thought maybe he needed this encounter as much as she did. She hoped so.
“Holy shit,” she said. He collapsed onto the ground-cover next to her.
“Holy shit,” he agreed. He lay there, eyes closed to the bright sun, and ran one hand over her the length of her body. It was like he was trying to reassure himself that she was real. His hand found hers and their fingers intertwined. She let her eyes drift closed as they basked in the sun. She was almost asleep when she heard his voice.
“This place made me think of you because of these plants,” he reached above his head and touched one of the fern-like plants. Soft chimes filled the air with their music. “The day you searched for me; I saw that they made you smile.”
“So, you were watching me the entire time,” she said. She rolled onto her stomach and curled into his side.
“Every warrior knows to observe from the shadows when you encounter a new creature,” he said.
“And what did you learn about me as you watched from the shadows.” She ran her fingertips through his damp chest hair.
“You came out here alone, so I knew you were fearless.”
Her laugh echoed through the cove. “I was scared shitless,” she confessed. She wished she could be fearless. Vaka was fearless, she realized. Maybe that’s part of what attracted her to him.
“Well, it still makes you brave,” he said, “and that’s even better than being fearless.”
“What else did you notice?” She kissed his salty skin and inhaled his musky scent. He claimed she had bewitched him the other night, but she was the one under his spell. Everything about him was so strong and effortlessly masculine.
“You knew how to track someone through the forest. Only the men of our tribe are trained in those arts. Are all girls taught to track and hunt on Earth?” A breeze stirred and goosebumps rose over her skin despite the warm sun. He pulled the picnic blanket closer and covered her with it.
“Not at all,” she said. “My dad raised me, so he taught me a lot of things girls don’t usually know.” She rarely told people about her childhood. Especially other colonists. She had been an outcast her entire life. She didn’t fly millions of miles away from her troubles just to be labeled an outsider among the crew. But Vaka was different. She knew she could trust him. She wanted to trust him. Wanted this new relationship between them to grow and flourish.
“What else did he teach you? Perhaps I could make use of you in my village,” he teased.
“I can set traps and snares, create a bow and arrow from scratch, start a fire with no modern tools, build an emergency snow cave, and handle just about any type of firearm you put in front of me.” She traced an imaginary check mark on his chest as she recited each skill.
“Your mother allowed this?”
“My mother was long gone,” she said. “It’s no big deal. I was just a toddler when she left. I don’t even remember her.” She was desperate for him to act like what she just said was totally normal. If he gazed at her with tenderness or spoke with pity in his voice, she would lose it. She never wanted people to feel sorry for her. She hated it when they reacted that way. And it would crush her coming from him.
He seemed to sense her trepidation. “Do all humans learn such things in school?”
“No,” she said. “They tend to focus on the basics in school. Reading, writing, arithmetic. My father wasn’t a fan of school, so he kept me home and taught me himself.” She disentangled herself from his arms and rose to her feet. She’d tell him everything he wanted to know, but she had to distract herself while she did. She searched the undergrowth for her clothes.
“Do you have any siblings?” he asked.
“Nope.” She found her bra and tugged it on over her head. “I was an only child. What about you?” she asked.
“I have no siblings.” He dragged himself into a seated position. “They are uncommon among our kind.”
“Why’s that?” she asked as she spotted her shirt.
“The pregnancy and birth process were difficult for our women. Death in childbirth was common. If a woman successfully had one baby, she usually stopped trying for another. It was exceedingly rare for our females to carry more than one child to term during their lifetimes.”
What the hell? That would have been great information to have before they settled on the terms of their bargain. For the first time, she felt slightly less guilty about her apparent infertility. Then again, it was hard to fault him when she was hiding information of her own. She’d decided to let it slide when the memory of his healed abdomen popped into her mind. It had only taken a few hours for the wound in his side to repair itself.
“Can’t the women of your tribe just self-heal like you did?” She was genuinely curious.
“No.” He shook his head and stared at the ground, troubled by this admission. “It’s a trait present only in the males of our species.”
“I bet our doctor would find that interesting,” she said, as she pulle
d on her pants.
“You’ll say nothing about it to your doctor.” He practically spat the words out. He had never so much as raised his voice to her before, but something about her words angered him.
“I won’t say a word.” She went to him, placed a hand on his chest, and looked him plain in the eye. “I promise. It stays between us.”
“Thank you.” He shook his head like he was clearing unpleasant thoughts. “I’m sorry I raised my voice. There’s history you don’t understand.”
“Will you tell me…sometime?” She wanted him to share with her as much as she longed to share her experiences with him.
“Yes.” He smoothed her hair and kissed her forehead. “You do not need to worry,” he whispered, his lips against her skin. “You will be fine when you birth our son. You’re strong and brave and sturdy. You have doctors and medical technology. There is nothing to worry about.”
If he only knew she had so damn many things to worry about. He must have felt the tension in her body.
“Did I say something wrong, Callie?”
“I’m just worried this isn’t going to work,” she confessed. “I don’t want you to be disappointed. If I can’t have a child.”
He wrapped his arms around her in one of the most comforting hugs she had ever received. “If you can’t have a child, I’m still better off than I was before you arrived. Still immeasurably happier than I was a month ago.” He tightened his arms around her. “The red moon will rise again in the sky and the next warrior will claim an Earth woman. And we wish them luck.”
She couldn’t do this anymore. She had to tell him, but at the same time, she knew she couldn’t. She was in an impossible situation. She had to betray her people or the man she was falling for. Maybe there was a way out of things, but she sure couldn’t see it. There was no way to hide the infertility or plan of mass colonization from him. He’d find out eventually, and she didn’t see how he could ever forgive her. But if she told him now, the best-case scenario involved him backing out of their arrangement, recalling Riyad to his village, and leaving them to the mercy of the Obeday. Or maybe even a worst-case scenario that involved fire-breathing dragons and the total annihilation of her people.
There was one unavoidable truth: the longer she waited to tell him, the worse it would be. He was no stranger to difficult situations. Maybe he would understand.
“Vaka, I—“
They were far from camp, but she recognized the perimeter alarm immediately. The mechanical screams bounced between the trees and hurt her ears.
He left the basket on the ground and took her hand in his. “Let’s move,” he said as they ran for the settlement.
23
Callie struggled to keep up with him, but he didn't dare slow his pace. He was as anxious as she was to reach camp. He had as much riding on their alliance as the humans did, and he would not fail in his mandate to protect them.
"Do you think it's the Obeday?" she asked. "Would they attack us again?"
He had considered the idea himself. "Perhaps, but I would be surprised." He scanned the trees around them, looking for signs of danger. "They have eyes everywhere. I'm sure they know our dragons patrol the skies above your camp. They may even know Riyad lives among you now."
"Why would that matter?" She didn’t understand why his enemies were enemies of her people as well. She knew nothing of his history with the Obeday, and he silently chastised himself for failing to share relevant information with her. The stalemate between his people and the small beings from the dark side of the planet had gone on for years, and he was used to the situation. He'd grown complacent when he should have been vigilant.
"They know you are under our protection," he explained. "You’re not just some random new arrivals. They understand that an attack on you would be an attack on us."
"Why are you so sure they won’t attack you?"
"We have an understanding with them." He understood her need to know, but he hated talking about it just the same. "We fought them for many years. An arrangement was made to stop the carnage. Thousands died and neither side could stomach any more killing.”
"You have dragons,” she said. “Couldn’t you just roast the fuckers and be done with it?" She made it sound so simple. He wished it were that easy. But he learned long ago that decisions were never easy by the time they reached him.
"They still hold some of our villagers in their city. They shield themselves with our innocents." It pained him to admit this to her. Leaving some people was the only option at that time, but it still shamed him deeply. Sacrificing the few to save the many was a tactically sound decision, but that didn’t mean he slept any easier.
She stumbled to a halt at his admission. He appreciated her understanding, but couldn't bear to tell her more. He didn't want her eyes to be filled with pity when she looked at him. Or disappointment.
"I'll tell you everything," he said as he took her hand and hurried her along. "I promise I will. You need to understand the threat they pose. I didn’t tell you earlier because I didn't want to frighten your people with tales of Obeday depravity, but it was a mistake." He would be the one to tell her, but only when the time was right. And they had more pressing concerns right now. "We need to focus on getting back to camp," he said.
He dreaded telling her and he knew he'd put off doing so as long as possible. The sordid details filled him with shame. The Obeday had been his worst nightmare, and the tale of their interaction featured his failure on every front. His failure as a leader. His failure as a warrior. His failure as a husband. His failure as a man.
The Obeday arrived on Karilius several weeks after his father had passed, and Vaka took his place as leader of the Verakai. The mountain village had always been the jewel of their civilization, but they were not forced to retreat to it for safety until much later.
The Verakai were plentiful in those times, and their small villages dotted the landscape as far as the eye could see. Vaka could fly for hours before reaching the edge of their territory.
The Verakai had encountered people from the stars before, and often traded with them, but the Obeday were different. They dropped from the heavens and proclaimed Karilius their new home. At first, Vaka did not see the harm. The planet was large, and the Obeday presented no threat.
They were delicate creatures, smaller than most Verakai children, with icy white skin and giant, misshaped heads. Too frail to handle prolonged exposure to the elements and ill-suited for any physical labor, they relied on technology to survive.
Most of the time, they hid behind the walls of their compound and interacted via remote-controlled droids and drones. On the rare occasion when the Obeday ventured outside, they were strapped into military-grade exoskeletons and survival suits. Vaka almost pitied them.
He remembered his initial optimism upon their arrival and cursed his naiveté. The Verakai did not hide their dual nature in those days. They transformed from man to dragon at the drop of a hat and reveled in their unique physiology. They were aware how rare their skill was, but they didn’t realize how valuable it had made them. The intergalactic merchants aware of their existence talked, and the Obeday were listening.
Vaka never wondered how the new arrivals paid for their technology, or for the vast city they were building on the far side of the planet. He heard whispers of slave labor, but he dismissed it as a rumor. His lack of curiosity cost his people dearly.
The Obeday were shrewd. They played up their physical frailty and the Verakai saw no threat. Even tried to forge an alliance with them. They cemented their partnership during a three-day feast on the open plains. They drank too much and told tales of their greatest battles. They were so confident in their physical superiority that they were careless and lowered their guard.
A sleeping powder was placed in their ceremonial brew, and the warriors awoke the next morning with metal collars around their necks. Their frenzied attempts to remove them were fruitless. The first warrior who tried to assume his dragon form
vaporized before their eyes.
The Verakai were rounded up like cattle and hauled to a research facility on the far side of the planet. A windowless warehouse in the dark, snowy hell. His enemy had used the time spent pretending to befriend the Verakai to build a place to torture them.
The Obeday sorted his people. Not every Verakai male could shift. Only the most elite warriors, those with ancient blood flowing through their veins, had the gift. Those men without the talent were sent to the labor camps. They toiled day and night to build the new city. With minimal rations and no rest, they perished by the thousands.
The women and the dragon warriors were sent to the research facility. The Obeday were desperate to unlock the secret of dragons. They experimented on his men, in an effort to control their shifting, and he’d never forget the sound of their screams.
He could forgive what they had done to him and his men, but his fury over what they did to the women would burn brightly forever.
As the dragon warriors in the lab perished, the Obeday became obsessed with breeding more. They wanted to sell them to the highest bidder and keep some as their personal pets. The twenty warriors who remained were not enough. The Obeday needed more.
The women of the tribe were tortured next, as their captors attempted to increase their capacity to breed. They wanted more dragon warriors and they wanted them faster. They attempted to induce multiple births and speed up the gestation period. They attempted genetic experiments to guarantee a dragon birth.
It killed him to watch his people waste away as he searched for a way to defeat them. It had taken months of feigning disinterest and surrender while he observed their every procedure and habit, but he was ready when his chance arose.
He learned who carried the keys to their collars. The two Obeday trusted with that honor always stayed behind the impenetrable divider when observing the experiments. They never stepped into the treatment room or had any real contact with the warriors.