by Cynthia Sax
“Our bond will never be severed.” They would always have a connection. Didn’t she understand that? “I am your warrior. You are my gerel.”
“It takes time to dissolve it. I understand.” She removed one of her hand coverings, placed that palm on the control panel outside her chamber. The doors opened. She walked into her private space.
He followed her. “Our bond will never be dissolved.” She must have misunderstood his words. “It will be manageable. We can part for longer lengths of time but that duration will never be longer than a planet rotation.”
She placed her hand on the inside control panel. “Put your palm beside mine.”
He complied with her request, hooking his other arm around her waist. They both moaned, their bodies craving that physical contact.
She gave him access to her chambers. “We’ll dissolve it.” Her jaw jutted.
Her determination would have been adorable except the issue she was resolute about undoing was her link to him.
“But I can’t think about that right now.” She touched her forehead. “All I can think about is…” Her face turned red.
“All you can think about is me.” He dragged his lips along her nape and she trembled. “My lips. My hands.” He cupped her breasts through her garments. “My cock.” He pressed himself against her ass, allowing her to feel the hard length of him. “I smell your need, gerel.”
He breathed deeply. Her musk flavored the air, calling to him.
“Don’t damage my jacket.” She shrugged it over her shoulders. It fell to the floor. The objects in her pockets clunked against the surface.
“Don’t damage your jacket.” He repeated her words. “That means I can damage this.” He grasped the lapels of her flight suit and yanked.
Fabric tore. The sound excited both of them. Her breath hitched.
“Claws.” Her husky voice caressed his shaft, curling around his balls.
His gerel liked her rutting with a hint of danger. He laughed softly and extended his natural weapons. “Stay still.” He spoke those instructions into her skin.
She froze in place. The scent of her arousal escalated, making him lightheaded with need.
He skimmed his claws over her breasts, along her stomach, across her hips, navigated her curves, the lush lines of her form. Bands of fabric floated downward, revealing flawless white skin, pink puckered nipples, a triangle of fine brown hair.
He mouthed over the back of her neck as he strummed her with his deadly tips, leaving trails of the lightest pink upon her body, marking her as his. She reached back, gripped his thighs, squeezing his muscles. Erotic humming accompanied her stimulating massage, the combination driving him wild.
“Do you feel the connection between us?” He closed his teeth around the tender spot where her neck met her shoulder, biting her gently, and she jerked. “That’s rare, my doubting little medic. You’ll never experience that with anyone else.”
The thought of her with another male inflamed him. She was his. No one else would touch her like this, hold her, bond with her.
“You’re mine.” He nipped her harder. “Forever.”
“Can’t.” She squirmed, grinding her ass against his hard cock. “Medic.”
“You’re intelligent, hardworking, strong.” He licked the red mark on her skin, tasting salt and female. “You’ll do both—heal others and mate with me.”
He would never make her choose, never ask her to give up her role for him.
“Put on your other hand covering.” He scooped it off the floor with his claws, flipped it to her.
She obeyed his command, encasing her slender fingers in the enhanced leather. It would be soft against him. His cock bobbed.
“Look at your new hand coverings.” He slowly circled her breasts with his claws, tracing her curves with that part of him. “Why did I give them to you?”
“Because.” Her breathing was ragged. “You promised to find a solution.”
“And why did I make that promise?” He drifted his claws lower and she stiffened, her hum raising in pitch.
There was silence.
“Answer me, Gisella.” He slapped her mons with the heel of his right hand.
She gasped. “Because you wanted me.”
“I do want you.” He fanned her feminine folds, his control the only barrier between pleasure and harm. “I want all of you. Will I have all of you if I force you to stop healing?”
“No.” She leaned against him, spreading her thighs, his gerel generously giving him more access to her. “Medic. Is who. I am.” She panted.
She was more than a medic but healing was a huge part of her. He accepted that, appreciated it, respected her.
“I gave you the hand coverings because I value that side of you.” He teased her with his claws. “It turns me on.” He pushed his hips toward her, the hardness of his leather-clad cock proving his point. “When you doubt me, look at them.”
“Oghul.” She pulled on his ass coverings, twisting the strips.
He would have to repeat his words later. His lips curled upward. His gerel sounded as though she was past the point of rational thought.
“Barbarian.” She yanked on his garment.
His little human knew what she wanted. He grinned against the back of her neck. “Patience.” He traced around her clit with his claws and her humming morphed into a menacing rumble.
“Fuck patience. Need—”
He tapped that sensitive bundle of nerves and she bucked against him, driving her skull against his chin. Stars detonated in his brain.
His gerel exploded with movement, writhing in his arms, fighting to be free. He retracted his claws and clutched her, caging her with his body, holding her still, ensuring she didn’t hurt herself.
Zondoo. He needed to be inside her.
“Grip the wall.” He bent her over, positioning her with her lush ass in the air. She splayed her leather-covered fingers over the wall. He kicked her booted feet farther apart.
Wetness glistened on her inner thighs, sparkled on her pussy lips. Her body continued to vibrate. Her pale curves jiggled.
He could come from that beautiful sight alone. Fortunately, his ass coverings were designed for urgent encounters like these.
“I need to have you. Now.” He flipped the leather strips upward and positioned himself at her entrance. Her flesh rubbed against his cockhead, stimulating him to the edge of agony.
He held onto her hips, drew back, and then thrust. Wet warmth rushed up his shaft, the sensation clawing at his control.
He buried himself up to his base and gritted his teeth. She gyrated around him, her inner walls brushing along his shaft.
He would happily take orders from the universe’s rudest, most incompetent warrior if it meant ending each planet rotation inside Gisella. She was half of him, the light to his darkness, the life to his death.
He drew back and thrust deep, drew back and thrust deep, riding her hard, his hips smacking against her ass. She swayed into him, her panting joining his grunts.
A strand of her hair had escaped the tight coil. Gold was hidden between the brown tendrils, catching the light. He freed the rest, wrapped her straight tresses around one of his fists, forced her to lift her head. Her back arched.
He had complete control over his powerful female and that titillated both of them, her pussy juices flowing between his balls.
“You’re mine, Gisella.” His voice lowered. “And I’m yours.” Their bodies collided again and again. “There’s no dissolving this.” He took her with increased urgency. “I’m now a part of you.” Their joining was more than physical. “As healing is a part of you.”
“Oghul.” Her lean biceps flexed.
“Say it.” He tugged on her hair, needing to hear the words. “Say I’m a part of you.”
“Part. Of me.” Her response cupped his balls. “Part. Of me.”
She repeated that as though it was her new mantra while he pounded into her, spanking her with as much of hi
s form as possible. Her ass heated to a pleasing pink. Her pussy constricted around him.
He wouldn’t last long. She felt too good and he’d been wanting her since sunrise, since their previous bonding.
But they had all rest cycle to reconnect. He would take her slower the next time. Oghul made that silent vow. He’d savor her, please her, sate desires she hadn’t yet realized she had.
Then she would voluntarily give him the reassurance he required. She would commit to him fully, no longer deny their connection, stop seeking to break it.
Pressure formed low on his spine. His base swelled. She reverted to humming once more, her sweet song enthralling him. It was a soft, feminine side of his strong female he wagered no one else saw.
He was the sole being she trusted with that knowledge. That realization snipped more of his restraint. He clenched his jaw. He couldn’t hold back. He—
Her humming stopped, the silence giving him the briefest of warnings before her inner walls constricted around him. Pleasure blasted him, tilting his world, rousing his soul.
He roared, driving into her as deeply as he could. Cum shot from his tip with a ferocity that shook his entire form. Gisella clenched down on him again. More of him flowed into her.
He braced himself as she took everything from him, his essence, his energy, his thoughts, replacing them with the most exquisite bliss, an ecstasy that made his teeth ache and his eyes water.
His legs trembled, his body shamefully weak. He wouldn’t remain standing, not for long, and when he fell, he’d take his gerel down with him. They were one unit, his cock and her pussy locked together.
He wrapped his arms around her and toppled backward. She shrieked.
His skull, back, ass smacked against the floor tiles. The impact pushed him deeper inside her, that pleasure offset by the pain coursing along his form.
“Are you determined to kill yourself?” His gerel was now perched on top of him, facing his feet. She looked over her shoulder. “You could have been hurt.” A frown darkened her beautiful face. “Are you hurt?”
“Not life-threatening.” He struggled for breath.
“You and your not life-threatening.” She crossed her arms under her breasts, her angry stance more sexy than fearsome. “I suppose it makes no sense for me to derive a way to break our bond. You likely won’t live long enough to implement that solution.”
“Then you’re accepting our bond?” He blinked, unable to trust his hearing. His ears buzzed from the crack to his head.
Her bottom lip curled. “Do I have a choice?”
“No.” He grinned.
If he had known extreme agony was all it would take for her to embrace their connection, he would have been more adventurous during their first bonding.
Chapter Nine
Two planet rotations later, Gisella gazed down at the hand coverings she wore. Her barbarian wasn’t physically in the medic bay with her. He was likely in a fighting ring somewhere, challenging warriors he shouldn’t be battling, collecting wounds she’d have to heal. She released a sigh.
But he remained in her thoughts. She needed him.
Her hands no longer shook when they were apart, yet their connection had strengthened. The desperate craving inside of her had been replaced by a soul-deep yearning for all of Oghul, not merely his body.
She longed to hear his opinions on even the most trivial matters, lived to see the gleam in his eyes, ached to feel his hot breath blowing over her nape.
Her gaze lowered to the Palavian stretched out on the sleeping support. He had been prepped and was ready to be operated upon.
That should have excited her. Her role as a medic had previously been everything, her obsession, her one love, the focus of her every waking moment.
Then she had met that damn barbarian. Healing was still essential to her happiness. That would always remain true.
But it no longer felt like it was enough for her. Her lips twisted. She wanted more. She wanted her warrior.
“You deserve my full focus.” Gisella scanned her patient. “You’re counting on me to cure you.” The disease had spread. “I won’t fail you.”
The Palavian remained unconscious. His systems were functioning well, his breathing level. The pain inhibitors would ensure he didn’t feel anything.
“You’re ready for this.” She told him even though he couldn’t hear the words. Her patient was strong enough for the procedure.
She glided the Balazoid Radiation Targeter over the male’s stomach. The screen on that specialized piece of equipment displayed the growth.
“I see it.” Locking onto a piece of the black mass, she tapped the trigger.
The device directed the Balazoid Radiation through the male’s body. The emission of specialized energy avoided his organs and major arteries and veins, hit the growth. The black mass instantly shrank.
“It’s working.” Her excitement was mixed with frustration and regret.
This machine would have saved her mother’s lifespan. Living on a primitive planet, not having access to that technology, had killed her beloved parent.
“This is why I can’t follow that damn barbarian to his home.” She quelled that wild idea she’d been entertaining.
Chamele 2 wasn’t advanced. It lacked the machines she needed to properly perform her role. She would have been watching her patient die, not healing him.
Gisella moved the device a hair to the right, locked onto the growth, tapped the trigger again. Some spots required multiple treatments, the process slow and tedious, demanding her entire attention and all of her experience.
Sweat dripped down the back of her neck. Her shoulders and arms ached. She flexed her leather-clad fingers, targeted another spot.
Moments passed. She didn’t know how many.
“Let us in, medic.” Flesh pounded against metal. She’d locked the door to the chamber.
The idiot brothers had arrived. She ignored them. Her patient was her priority. She had to eliminate the smallest speck of the growth or it might return.
The racket outside the chamber eventually stopped. The brothers must have gotten bored, wandered away. She was glad for that. The noise strained her concentration.
It took many more moments, but finally, she eradicated all of the growth. She scanned her patient’s body once, twice, three times, and saw nothing.
“That’s it.” She plunked her weary ass on a chair, rolled her head back. Her neck cracked, the sound loud in the quiet space. “I got it all.”
She closed her eyes and rested. The stress of the operation dissipated, the tension in her shoulders easing.
Once her energy was restored, she cleaned herself, her machine, and her patient, draping a covering cloth over his naked form. His breathing was steady, even. Another scan verified he was in stable condition.
There was no more she could do for him. Not at the moment.
She opened the door.
Her barbarian was blocking the entrance, his back to her, his booted feet braced apart, his claws extended. His long black hair covered most of his golden skin. He wore his flimsy ass coverings again, much of his legs exposed.
The two Palavians faced him, their faces dark. All eight of their fists, four belonging to each male, were clenched. They were angry, appeared on the verge of violence.
Their reaction was no longer her concern. If they lost their tempers, Oghul would deal with them.
She trusted him to protect her.
“The operation on Egor was a success.” She stepped around her barbarian. “I’ve removed the growth. Your brother will be under observation for two more planet rotations. He needs to heal and to rest.”
“Palavians don’t require rest,” the shorter brother mumbled.
That attitude was why her patient was staying in the medic bay for two planet rotations, not one. “You can see him if you wish. But”—she held up her right index finger—“don’t touch him and don’t wake him.”
The brothers shifted their weight
and exchanged awkward glances.
“We’re coming back in a planet rotation.” The tall one spoke for both of them. “We expect him to be fully healed then.”
“He requires two planet rotations of rest.” She wouldn’t move on that decision.
The tall Palavian huffed. The two of them looked at each other, turned and strode away.
Gisella didn’t take her gaze off them until they disappeared from her view. “They must now trust me. They didn’t peek in the chamber this time, ensure I didn’t harm their brother.”
“Palavians view recovery time as weakness.” Oghul retracted his claws. “Wounds and illnesses are tolerated, as long as they don’t interfere with fighting and raiding.”
Warriors made no damn sense. She closed the door to the Palavian’s chamber, locking it.
“They will have to wait to fight and raid.” She deliberately brushed against her barbarian as she passed him, needing that physical contact. “My patient requires rest.”
“He’ll live?” Oghul followed her.
“The Palavian will survive.” She entered an unoccupied chamber. “I had the machines I needed to save him.”
Her barbarian gazed at her for a moment. “You didn’t have the machines you needed to save your mother.”
She darted a glance at him. Her warrior was scarily observant.
“I didn’t have the machines I needed to save her.” She leaned against him.
He wrapped his arms around her, his touch soothing her, giving her the strength she required to share the painful memories.
“She had the same disease.” Her mother had gifted her a handheld a solar cycle previous and Gisella utilized it constantly, scanning everyone and everything. It developed into a joke in their domicile.
Then she discovered the growth in her mother’s stomach and the humor evaporated. The device became a source of information…and misgivings.
“You were young.” Her barbarian prompted her.
“I was younger than Pono, the medic-in-training you met.” Her lips hitched upward. “I was ignorant and inexperienced, but I learned quickly.”