Passionate by Moonbeam
Page 9
The doors slid open, revealing chaos. A Fixer tossed his laughing druzka in the air, her dark face flushed. Warriors bumped their black-and-green chests together, rattling their ridges. A Fixer ran through the space, a blue banner flowing behind him.
“What’s going on?” Win asked, having never seen the Silans so happy. “Has the treaty been signed?”
“This is better than the treaty being signed.” Gladys, the elderly schoolteacher Vern had healed, hobbled toward Win. She’d refused to return to her home after it had been rebuilt, claiming she felt safer with them. “This is a miracle.” She took Win’s hands, her wrinkled skin soft. “That nice Fixer and his clumsy wife had their baby.” She smiled. “It’s a girl.”
“Female offspring,” a Breaker yelled as he passed. He stumbled and knocked into the wall, bending a metal panel. Warriors laughed. The Breaker flicked his fingers at them and resumed running, unfazed by his clumsiness.
“Ruler Gladys, druzka of my dreams, I have found you.” Talker Mowca Bawic draped one of his purple-and-green arms around the older woman’s shoulders.
“You should be looking for a female your own age, you flattering fool.” Gladys batted his hand, her eyes sparkling. Many of the single Silan males practiced their flirting with her and, although Gladys grumbled, Win knew she secretly loved the attention. “And I’m not one of your hoity toity Rulers. How many times have I told you that?”
“Only a Ruler would dare to tell me that.” Talker Mowca grinned, displaying sharp white teeth. “I am taking Ruler Gladys to the sustenance consumption sector where we will partake of the beverage you call champagne and listen to more Rulers tell us things we already know.” Gladys pinched his arm and Talker Mowca laughed. “Will you accompany us, Dr. Winona Zajac?”
Win waved her hands. “I’ll wait for my Vern, Talker Mowca Bawic.”
“Fixer Vern Zajac is a lucky Silan.” Talker Mowca walked with Gladys, matching her slower pace. “We will save you some cake.” He bent his head toward his friend and whispered something in her ear. She giggled, sounding far younger than her seventy-two years.
Win leaned against the wall and watched them as the older woman and the young alien male walked together, both of them thrilled about the birth of the half-Silan, half-human baby girl.
Not all humans were as tolerant about the proposed Silan treaty. Win swept her fingers over her stomach. There had been protests. That had been expected. Vern had explained that, at first, not all Silans had welcomed the Earth solution. They had grown to accept the future. The humans would also.
“Waiting for me, my Win,” Vern rumbled into her right ear, his lips brushing her skin, causing tremors to roll down her neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist, encircling her in his seductive body heat
“I’m waiting to celebrate, my Vern.” Win turned to face him. He wore a sky-blue long-sleeved dress shirt and navy-blue pants, the custom-made garments copying human styles, yet respecting the colors of his status. “Fixer Veterellec Lorenski and Breaker Cathy Lorenski had a baby girl. Gladys says it is a miracle.”
“Gladys calls many explainable events miracles.” Vern skimmed his mouth over Win’s, the fleeting touch tender. “With this event, she is correct.” He cupped Win’s pant-covered ass with his palms, holding her to him. “Sila has not had a birth of female offspring in many solar cycles.”
“A Fixer fixed that female-male imbalance.” Will we fix that imbalance also? Win gazed up at her own Fixer. “Do you want to celebrate?” She’d tell him their news after their private celebration.
Vern glanced toward the dining hall and frowned, his grip on Win’s ass tightening.
“Alone?” she added, suggestively swiveling her hips against the bulge in his pants.
Vern’s eyes turned blue. “You wish to fuck,” he baldly stated. She grinned, not hiding her need for him. “We will celebrate in our chambers.” He grabbed her waist and lifted her over his shoulders, his ridges pushing all of the air from her lungs.
“Let me down, my Vern.” Win wiggled. “I’m too big. You’ll hurt yourself.”
“Too big?” Vern carried her into their chambers, the doors sliding closed behind them. “You are tiny.” He moved quickly through the space.
“You said that to me at Moonbeam.” She stroked her hands over his back, savoring the contact. His shirt was almost as soft as his skin. “Do you remember?”
“I remember.” He set her down on the silver bedspread, the mattress dipping under her body.
Cameras pointed toward the specially fabricated Silan-sized mattress, recording every private moment. Their encounter would be studied by both humans and Silans, the findings easing the transition for other couples.
Their bedroom was simply furnished, two black nightstands positioned beside the big bed and an armoire dominating one corner of the room. Moving images decorated the walls. The greens and blues of the Northern Lights streamed across familiar constellations. Two bull moose battled for dominance, fighting to prove their worth. A ruby-throated hummingbird sipped nectar from a yellow snapdragon.
The source of the footage seamlessly changed to Sila. Lizard-like blue fish swam in clear water. The planet’s two suns lowered over floating buildings, the sunset painting the sky brilliant yellows and reds. A krowa, a large green hairy mammal, lumbered across a field of tall grass.
Win stretched her arms to the side, reaching toward the images with her fingertips. Someday I’ll visit Sila.
Vern yanked on his shirt. Fabric ripped and buttons bounced across the hardwood floor. Green-and-blue-colored skin rippled over firm muscle.
But I won’t visit there today. Win swallowed hard. “Other races want access to human females.” She shrugged out of her lab coat. “But they’re wasting their time.” She pulled her T-shirt over her head. “What female would choose them when she could have a big strong Silan male?” She kicked off her boots and removed her pants.
“You will only have this big strong Silan male.” Vern stood in front of her, proudly naked, his spicka fully erect and vibrating. Professor Roberta was right. He was magnificent, his body primitively powerful, his mind keenly intelligent, his heart large and generous.
“I will only have you.” Win’s pussy moistened, her nipples tightening. After many wonderful months of being together, she still couldn’t get enough of him, of his touch, his wit, his love. “Come to me, my Vern.” She opened her arms to him.
“My Win.” He covered her with his fit physique, capturing her lips, and she cradled him between her thighs, caressed his skin.
Vern filled her mouth, claiming her as his, the urgency in his touch thrilling Win. She submitted to his unspoken demands, allowing him access to all of her, not holding anything back. Their mouths meshed and their tongues slid together, twirling, entwining, testing, tasting.
Win arched her back, rubbing her breasts against his chest, teasing her already aching nipples. Where she was soft, he was hard, and the contrast aroused her. Vern slid his warm Fixer hands down her side, leaving a trail of stimulation, her skin humming with awareness, and he curved his palms around her ass, raising her mons.
One of his shaft ridges grazed her clit, setting off a cosmic explosion within Win. She moaned into his mouth, the sound muffled by his throat. He rolled his hips, grinding into her pussy lips, increasing her sexual torment.
After months of multiple daily encounters and a lifetime of mating training, Vern knew how to touch her, how to make her crazed with desire, and he ruthlessly used that knowledge now, pressing his vibrating cock into her folds and her clit, alternating mind-blowing pressure with a too-brief relief.
Win clawed at his shoulders, raking his blue-and-green skin with her short blunt fingernails, and she turned her head, trying to break free of his mouth, seeking more air, more control. He nipped her bottom lip with his pointed teeth, punishing her for her retreat, the ping of pain pushing her closer to the edge.
“Please, my Vern,” she panted, needing him inside her, filling he
r as no other being could. “Take me now.”
“I will take you always,” Vern growled, his eyes glowing blue. He pulled his hips back, nudged her entrance with his cock head. Win spread her legs wider and pushed upward, taking his tip into her pussy.
Vern chuckled. “You are impatient, druzka.” He eased into her, moving frustratingly slowly, his spicka stretching her. Each crest on his shaft set off a ripple of pleasure, the sensation radiating from her pussy to her limbs.
“Yes.” She sucked on his right shoulder, the salt of his skin grounding her. “This is what I need. This is what I want.”
“You want me.” He jerked and she gasped, flooded with feeling. “Only me.” He sank deeper and deeper, the slide of cock in pussy seeming to be endless. “When I sit at the big table and listen to the Rulers talk and talk and talk about what they think matter, I know they are damaged.” His base touched her pussy lips. “This is what matters.”
“Sex?” Win teased, clinging to a thread of rational thought.
Vern’s chest rumbled. “No, my foolish female.” He pulled out two ridges. “You.” He thrust and she inhaled sharply, a tremor rocking her body. “And.” Raised flesh dragged along her inner walls. “Me.” He drove into her, setting off another ripple of emotion.
“Lejno.” She uttered one of his favorite profanities.
“Yes, lejno.” He laughed again. “You are mine, my Win.” Vern dipped his head, teasing her neck with his sharp teeth as he rode her, owning her smaller form with hard, punishing strokes. The bed skidded across the hardwood, the black enamel headboard slamming against the wall.
Win grasped Vern’s shoulders, holding on to him, her gasps of air punctuating his thrusts. Her skin hummed, heating at the points of contact. His ridges mashed against her breasts, her stomach, her thighs.
He demanded her submission. She gave him much more, locking her heels behind his ass, hitching her hips up to meet his, digging her fingernails into his skin. They weren’t having sexual intercourse. This wasn’t a speedy and efficient fertilization. They were fucking, the two of them resembling wild savage creatures, intent on bonding today, tomorrow, for all time.
Vern grunted and Win called his name again and again, uncaring who heard her. Tremors swept over her faster and faster, each quake being fiercer than the previous one. She gritted her teeth, determined to wait, to come with him, her alien male, the love of her life.
“My Win,” Vern groaned, his voice as deep as an underground cavern. A sheen of perspiration slicked his skin, his form hot, his coloring completely blue. “I cannot hold on.”
“Don’t hold on.” Win cupped his cheek and gazed into his beautiful eyes. “Let go, my Vern.” She pushed her heels into his ass cheeks. “We’ll fall together.”
“Together.” He thrust hard, filling her pussy with his hard cock. “Now, my Win.” He swiveled his hips, grinding against her clit.
“My Vern,” she screamed, bucking upward, breaking. He roared her name, pushing her backward, pinning her hips to the mattress. His cum washed over her, the liquid heat soothing her battered inner walls, numbing her with ecstasy.
Win writhed and wiggled and twisted under him, seeking to be free, not wanting to be successful. She was where she wished to be, under her alien lover, her Fixer, her Vern. He thrust once more and toppled, flattening her, his weight comfortingly heavy.
Vern rolled, taking his Win with him. She sprawled on top of him, using his body as her sleeping support. Her scent filled his nostrils. Her breath caressed his skin.
She is mine. He brushed the wondrous curls away from his Win’s beautiful face, marveling that he had been proven worthy of such a breathtaking female.
He had temporarily suffered damage after viewing Fixer Veterellec Lorenski and Breaker Cathy Lorenski’s female offspring. The offspring had adorably small ridges and green-and-pink skin, a pigment combination never before seen on Sila. When she had grabbed Fixer Veterellec’s big thumb and her mouth had moved, Vern’s heart had squeezed.
He had left the Ruler chambers, needing to be with his druzka. She had been waiting for him, watching for him. The love in her exotic brown eyes had fixed all of his damage.
“I love you, my Win.” Heat blossomed in his chest.
“I love you too, my Vern.” She smiled up at him and the heat spread. “I like the way you celebrate.” She shifted onto her back. “We should celebrate again later.”
Vern’s spicka hardened once more. “It is an event worth celebrating.” He wrapped his arms around his Win, savoring her roundness. “This is the first female offspring in many solar cycles.”
“We have another event to celebrate.” She placed his hands on her stomach.
Vern frowned. Her stomach was not as soft as he recalled. “Have you been damaged?” He sat up, alarm sharpening his senses. “Tell me where, how. I will fix you.”
“I will be fixed in nine months or longer, depending on whether he or she is more Silan or more human.” His Win beamed, her skin glowing.
Nine months…he or she… Vern splayed his fingers over his Win’s stomach. “You are not damaged?”
“No.” She turned to face him. “I am not damaged. You will be a sire, my Vern.”
I will be a sire. Vern stared at her, unable to breathe, to reason, to talk, the thought of them having fabricated an offspring too marvelous to comprehend.
His Win touched his face, the contact achingly real, reconnecting him to reality. “We are having a baby.”
“We are having a baby,” Vern repeated. “We are having a baby.” He jumped off the sleeping support. He threw back his head. “We are having a baby,” he yelled at his top volume.
“We are.” His Win laughed, her hands returning to her stomach.
Horror filled Vern. “Is there damage?” He kneeled beside her on the sleeping support and carefully touched her skin. “Did we damage our offspring by fucking?” His stomach twisted. “I will try to fix her.”
His Win groaned, the sound adding to Vern’s alarm. “We can’t damage our offspring by fucking, not during these early stages. Later, when I’m closer to delivery, we’ll have to be more gentle.”
“There will be no later.” Vern shook his head, not taking any chances with his druzka and with his offspring. “We will not fuck again,” he decided. “I will fabricate ketchup chips.” He sprang to his feet, eager to perform tasks, to prepare for their offspring.
“Wait, my Vern.” His Win clasped his hand. “Why do we need ketchup chips?”
“Breaker Cathy Lorenski required ketchup chips. Talker Storm Nazwisko damages herself if she smells jaggodda juice.” He inhaled. Only the scent of his Win and sex flavored the air. “She requires numerous pillows.” He gazed around him. They only had two pillows. That wasn’t enough. “I will fabricate more pillows.”
Vern tugged on his hand. His Win didn’t release him.
Is she concerned I am not worthy? Vern lowered to the sleeping support. “I have trained for offspring fabrication. I will provide all that you require,” he vowed.
“I know you will, my Vern.” His Win smiled, a wet sheen covering her wondrous eyes. “But right now, all that I require is you.” She gripped his neck, pulling him closer.
“You have me, druzka.” He pressed his lips to hers, careful not to touch her stomach. “You will always have me. I love you. I…” Vern couldn’t say anything more, overcome with emotion.
“I know. I know.” His Win petted his skull. “I love you too.”
About Cynthia Sax
Cynthia Sax lives in a world where demons aren’t all bad, angels aren’t all good and magic happens every single day. Although her heroes may not always say, “I love you”, they will do anything for the women they love. They live passionately. They fight fiercely. They love the same women forever.
Cynthia has loved the same wonderful man forever. Her supportive hubby offers himself up to the joys and pains of research while they travel the world together, meeting fascinating people and finding i
nspiration in exotic places such as Istanbul, Bali and Chicago.
Cynthia welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
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Barbarian Claims 2: Warlord Unarmed
Barbarian Claims 3: Warlord Reunited
Barbarian Claims 4: Warlord’s Mercy
Operation Erotic: Assassin Mine
Operation Erotic: Menage Lost
Operation Erotic 1: Mission Menage
Operation Erotic 2: Savage Menage
Operation Erotic 3: Unleashed Menage
Tattooed Tryst
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Passionate by Moonbeam
ISBN 9781419949128
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Passionate by Moonbeam Copyright © 2013 Cynthia Sax
Edited by Briana St. James
Cover design by Fiona Jayde
Cover photography by Viktar Malyshchyts, Martin Valigursky/shutterstock.com
Electronic book publication December 2013
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