by Candro, Ria
Bannor lifted his mouth from hers, raking her with his glittering gaze. His fingers still buried deep inside her, he smiled. “What do you think, Cindra? Can your farmer give you that?”
His words sparked the return of sanity. She stared at him with growing horror. Heavens, what was she doing? She was in her fiancée’s house, for goodness’ sake. He was good to her, as was his family. He loved her. And she’d allowed a virtual stranger to suckle her breasts, to bury his fingers inside her body.
“I…I can’t do this,” she choked out.
Bannor stilled, uttering a muffled curse. “Cindra, it’s not wrong to feel this way. We are meant to be—“
“No,” she cried out. “No, we aren’t. You’re just a stranger. I can’t.”
He started to say something else, but sudden footsteps sounded along the floorboards in the hallway. Stiffening, Cindra pushed up against Bannor’s chest.
“Someone’s coming,” she whispered. “You have to leave. Now!”
Bannor let out a curse, but he obeyed, sliding his fingers from her body and rising from the bed. She tried not to cry out at the feeling of abandonment she felt when he strode to the window and grabbed onto the thick branch of the beladora tree. Within an instant, he was gone.
Cindra hurriedly tugged her nightgown down over her body, then threw the sheet back over her. A second later, the door opened. Nadine, the household cook and maid who slept just down the hall, peered inside, her stringy white braid glimmering in the twilight.
“I heard you cry out, child,” she whispered. “Are you okay?”
“Just a bad dream, Nadine,” Cindra replied, feeling guilty for lying to the sweet old woman who’d been like a grandmother to her since she’d arrived. “Go back to bed.”
Nadine left and Cindra was once again alone.
What have I done?
She’d allowed one of the Spygians to take liberties with her body, to bring her to pleasure. And despite the fact that she knew she should, she couldn’t bring herself to truly regret it.
Worse, she couldn’t stop wondering what it’d be like to be with the rest of the Spygians.
Chapter Three
Devan glanced out the window of their rented second-story lodgings. It looked right out into the main square. Dust balls kicked across the field and passersby dodged to the left or right to avoid them.
“We’re in hell,” he muttered.
“Not hell,” Bannor replied, striding next to him and staring out the window as well. “Just a foreign land.”
Devan didn’t bother stating that it wasn’t the locale that made this hell, but the fact that their mate was here and they hadn’t yet claimed her. Bannor, Stefon and Tempos knew it just as well as he.
Stefon paced through the room, his heavy footsteps pounding on the thin wooden floor. “How do Keulots wear these clothes every day? My skin feels as if I’d slept in a brambly bush.”
Devan glanced back to see Stefon irritably scratching at his shirt. He couldn’t blame him. Compared to the lightweight cotton loincloths they normally wore, these heavy cotton clothes were like burlap.
“And I miss our ship,” Tempos growled from where he lounged on one of the narrow chairs in the common room they shared. “I cannot wait to get back.”
Neither could Devan. He’d become accustomed to sleeping on the ship when they weren’t in Spygia, and all of them had lush quarters there. Compared to that, this was hell, and he rued the fact that they’d been forced to keep it floating in space outside this planet. Mindful of their mate, Bannor had commanded they all sleep here rather than transporting back to their ship at night. He understood Bannor’s desire for them to keep an eye on Cindra, but still he looked forward to the moment when they were able to collect their mate and go back to their ship.
He returned his gaze to Bannor, shooting him a death look. “I can’t believe you told our mate you wouldn’t object if she still wished to marry Adamon.”
Bannor shrugged. “It was the only way she’d allow me to touch her body. Besides, I only said I wouldn’t push her. I said nothing about the three of you.”
“That’s good,” Devan muttered darkly. “Because I have no intent of staying away from her.”
“Nor should you.” Bannor’s hand tightened on the windowsill and his voice took on a reverent tone. “You should have seen her last night. She is beyond beautiful. Her breasts are full and round, and her stomach flat and narrow.”
Behind them, Tempos let out a low growl. “What else? What of the rest of her?”
Bannor’s throat worked, as if he was reliving the entire moment, and the hunger in his gaze made Devan’s rod go tight with envy and longing. How he wanted to get a taste of what Bannor had gotten the night before. And he would have it, he vowed. Soon.
“What they say of Chivean women is true,” Bannor continued. “No hair anywhere on her body, other than her head. Her cunt was bare and glistening with her juices. And tighter than anything I’ve ever felt.”
Devan’s cock went even harder. His unfocused gaze wandered through the square. “A virgin. I cannot believe our mate is a virgin.”
Such a creature was rare in these times, unless she was a child, and of course they had no interest in those.
“Think you she’ll be able to handle all four of us?” Stefon asked, his voice low. “With her virgin sensibilities, she might balk at that.”
Bannor let out a soft chuckle. “Oh, she will. Our little Cindra may not realize it yet, but she was custom-built for Spygian men. She will be able to take us all and she will do so without restraint. Mark my words.”
A sudden flutter of powder-blue skirts drew Devan’s sight to a figure below, who’d just emerged from the store beneath these lodgings. She carried a bucket and instead of heading toward the farm as she’d done the day before, she turned and headed toward the stream on the outskirts of town, the one they’d spotted yesterday.
“Look,” he croaked, the muscles in his body growing tight with hunger. “Cindra goes to the stream.”
The rapid beat of Stefon’s feet preceded his body. He shoved in between Devan and Bannor, uncaring that he jostled them aside. “Alone?”
Bannor snorted, but his gaze was trained on their mate. “That is odd indeed. She can barely travel anywhere without that boy trailing her.”
“It appears she’s going to collect some more water,” Devan noted, doing his best to keep his voice calm despite the fact that his pulse had quadrupled in speed. Just the sight of their mate was pure heaven. What would it be like to touch her? To have her touch him?
“We aren’t going to waste this opportunity, are we?” Stefon rumbled.
“No.” Bannor turned his gaze toward Devan, and when Devan met his eyes, he nodded. “Go down, Devan. See if you can speak with her alone.”
Sway her to our side, was the unspoken command and Devan squandered no time heeding it. With a curt nod, he turned and strode from the room, knowing that Stefon and Tempos most likely cursed him in their heads for getting the chance they wished they had. Yet they knew their place. Bannor willed that his second-in-command take his turn at wooing Cindra, and Devan was going to give it all he had.
* * * * *
Cindra cut through the town square, taking the worn path at the edge of town into the rare copse of trees that lined the narrow stream. The trees were tall and spindly, barely surviving in this harsh climate, but the underground seepage from the nearby stream fed them and kept them clinging to life.
Sometimes she really missed her home. It had been lush and bountiful. Full of excess, really. Chivea had seen a great many technological advancements, but its people had been a peaceful race. Ultimately that had made them perfect prey for the Malucons, a barbaric race of beings who delighted in killing off the inhabitants of other worlds and stealing their technology and resources.
Which is why Keulot is perfect for you.
There was little here to draw the Malucons, and therefore good chance that she’d live to see the e
nd of her days. For if a Malucon spotted her, she would be hunted down and killed on the spot. It was the Malucon way. Once they invaded a planet, they left no survivors, and they wanted all the other worlds to know about it and fear them.
Bucket in hand, she wound through the trees. The shop owner, Deirdre, had come to relieve her of her day’s duties, but the water supply in the shop had run low. Once she returned with some water for Deirdre, she could go home. To Adamon.
Where she would proceed to spend the rest of the day dreaming about the Spygians.
“Be content, Cindra,” she admonished herself with a sigh. She shouldn’t be dreaming about Bannor, about the glorious feeling of his long, thick fingers inside her body. She shouldn’t—
A branch crackled, breaking her from her thoughts. Jumping, she whirled around.
No one was there.
Strange.
She turned back to the stream…and that was when she saw the form in front of her. Her heart clenched, immediate thoughts of the Malucons racing through her mind.
“No! Help,” she screamed, throwing the bucket at the figure.
It was only when he caught it, one of his thick, perfect brows arching, that she realized who it was. Most certainly not a Malucon.
“My apologies,” the Spygian with the crystalline blue eyes murmured as he took a step back. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She gasped for breath, willing her heart to stop racing. “Well, you did,” she finally snapped. ”What are you doing out here, anyway?”
The Spygian gave her a wicked grin that caused her whole lower body to clench. “I was thirsty.”
Yeah, right.
Cindra snatched the bucket from his grasp. “There’s plenty of water at your lodgings.”
His eyes hot and heavy on her, he swept a lock of his long, dark hair behind his ear. “I prefer it directly from the source.”
Whatever.
“What’s your name again?” she asked him irritably.
“Pardon.” He inclined his head. “It’s Devan.”
“Devan.” Gods, even his name was gorgeous, and that pissed her off even more. Glowering at him, she said, “If you’ll excuse me.”
She attempted to stalk by him, but at the last minute he stepped into her path, and the bucket bounced off his stomach. His rock-hard stomach, if the force of her bounce was any indication.
Her breath hitched at the intense look he speared her with. His gaze traveled down to her parted lips, and something curled low in her belly. Heavens, how could she want someone she’d just met? How could she want anyone, when she was engaged to Adamon?
“I wished to speak with you,” he murmured.
His silky tone caused her nipples to bead under her dress, stealing the breath from her lungs. “Wha-what about?”
Devan’s lips twisted into a grin. “You know what.”
“I…” She slowly retreated, until her back hit a slender tree. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Chuckling, he drew closer. “Liar.”
Cindra licked her suddenly dry lips. “What do you want?”
One brow arched. “You.”
When she gasped, he leaned his head down further, his voice lowering. “We all do, Cindra. You are our mate, whether you choose to believe it or not.”
“I…I cannot. Adamon…”
His eyes darkened, but he didn’t respond to her mention of her fiancée. “Can you really see yourself living in this backward town the rest of your days, Cindra? You’re Chivean. Your world was highly advanced. This must be difficult for you to deal with on an everyday basis.”
His words, so close to what she herself had been thinking, roused her ire. “I’m not so shallow as to—”
“I’m not saying you’re shallow,” he interrupted smoothly. His blue eyes darkened, flashing down at her. “I’m saying you deserve to be wearing the finest of silks, not this rough cotton.”
When his gaze trailed down her body, pausing markedly at her breasts, she began to pant, unable to help herself.
“You deserve to be treated like a princess, Cindra.”
His words hit home, because she’d once been a princess.
“I…” She trailed off, at a loss for words. When he took a deep breath, her gaze wandered to the pulse at his throat. Gods, his neck was so thick, his body so muscular. She’d never seen its like.
His eyes locked on her and he must have read her thoughts, because his very next words shocked her to her core.
“Do you like what you see?”
Shocked, she met his gaze. “What?”
His lips curved into a smile. “There’s no harm in that, Cindra.”
When her eyes betrayed her by drawing back to his luscious chest, he murmured, “Would you like to touch me?”
“What?” she squeaked.
“It’s okay,” he whispered. “There’s no shame in touch. In allowing yourself to feel.” His fingers crawled up her arm, tickling both her body and her heart.
“Have you ever seen a man unclothed?” he asked her.
Oh, goodness. She slowly shook her head. Nudity was not looked on kindly here on Keulot, and her strict father had kept her from the opposite sex as much as possible back on Chivea, insisting she would be pure and untouched on her wedding day. A day that had never come.
The thought spurred some deep-seated anger within her. She’d obeyed her father’s will, had been the good girl he’d wanted her to be, and what for? Ultimately he and everyone else she’d loved had died.
Why not live for once, even if just a little bit?
“Touch me,” he whispered, his gaze dark and enticing. “Satisfy your curiosity. I will not return the favor unless you wish it. This I vow to you.”
Like the mythical djinns of her world, his words lured her, beckoning her to him with their lurid promise. She found herself helpless to resist.
Slowly, her free hand reached out, closing the distance between them, until her fingers grazed his masculine chest. He said nothing, but his eyes lowered to half-mast and the muscles of his chest went taut as a bow. Building up her courage, she put her palm on his chest.
Heavens, he was so warm, so…so large. Just as Bannor had been last eve, as he lay over her body. These Spygians felt nothing like Adamon, with his smooth, cool flesh and his wiry frame. They were heat and silk over steel. They were amazing.
Her hand wandered over his body, from the top of his broad shoulder down to his washboard stomach, even around his hip toward his lower back. He allowed her curious movement, standing still as a statue, no doubt so as not to scare her away. It worked.
Cindra’s body flushed with heat, so pure and intense she wondered if it had flowed from his body onto hers. She couldn’t help it. She had to see more.
Fear fled, leaving behind only passion and excitement. When the bucket dropped from her numb fingers, landing on the ground with a soft plunk, she used the opportunity to bring her other hand to his chest. Her heart pumped rapidly, sending blood streaming through her flushed body. She peeked up at Devan, searching for a sign that she should stop, that she was proceeding into dangerous territory, but his expression was impassive. The tense set of his jaw let her know he wasn’t unaffected by her touch, however.
She couldn’t help but appreciate his tight rein on himself, and she used that to her advantage, moving her trembling fingers to the rough buttons of his shirt and undoing them until his chest was bared to her.
“Your skin is so dark,” she whispered.
“From the Spygian sun,” he replied, his deep voice a trifle hoarse.
Which meant every Spygian must have skin that shade. The thought brought a lustful ache to her loins. Her gaze drew up to his. “I think I’d like to see your Spygia.”
A shadow of a smile crossed his face. “You’d like it.”
When she brought her gaze back to his chest and allowed her palms to rest on his bare skin, he let out a hiss, sucking his breath in tight. The movement caused his abdominal muscles to f
lex, and she bit back a moan of her own. Heavens, but he was magnificent. Knowing what lay under his shirt, and that the other three Spygians were very much the same underneath their clothes, made her warm in ways she couldn’t even interpret.
“You are stunning,” she confessed in a shaky voice.
“And you’ve only seen half of me.”
When her startled gaze met his, he grinned and once again did something that shocked her to her core. One of his hands closed over hers, slowly guiding it down his stomach, until he’d placed her hand at the crotch of his breeches…right over his hard-as-steel rod.
“Oh gods,” she gasped, but when she tried to snatch her hand away, he pressed down on her palm, keeping her imprisoned there.
“I won’t bite, I promise.” His voice had a distinct amused edge to it. “And I would never force myself on you. But if you’re going to see how Spygians differ from Keulot men, you need to see all of it.”
Biting the inside of her cheek, she kept her gaze down, in the general vicinity of his chest. When it became certain he wasn’t going to allow her to pull away, and that he wasn’t going to accost her either, she slowly allowed herself to relax, to actually feel what she was feeling. It was…
Nice. His turgid rod was larger than she’d expected, and his width almost fit her entire palm. Heavens, what would it be like to have that inside her? Just the thought made her loins clench with desire.
“Feel all of me,” he urged.
When she didn’t reply, didn’t move, he took his hand from hers. His fingers moved to the button on his breeches, and she drew away with a gasp as he undid it, and then slid the metal zipper down.
“What are you doing?”
He snickered. “I think you know full well.”
Don’t look. Don’t look down, she admonished herself. But that was like trying not to gaze upon a full, glorious moon. Impossible, when she could very well imagine what a wondrous sight awaited her.
Her breath caught as her gaze wandered down his body, to the member he’d freed. It was, for lack of a better word, beautiful. The flesh of his large rod appeared smooth as silk, and it had a bulbous, mushroom tip. Nothing like the disgusting appendages she’d spotted on the farm animals.