Beth and the Barbarian

by Honey Phillips

  Obediently, she followed his instructions, moving her legs further apart and finally giving him a full view of the delicate pink folds. She was so perfect and so tiny. His nails were starting to draw blood from his palms.

  “I stroke you.” He barely managed to get the words out but she responded, keeping her labia spread and circling her clit with her other hand. He could see the small, pink pearl swelling at her touch and hear her panting as she moved her finger faster and faster. “Now, little one. Come for me.”

  Her body convulsed and he could see the tremors shaking her delicate frame. With an anguished moan his control snapped and he pushed her back against the bed, burying his face between her thighs and lapping up every drop of her sweet fluids as she shuddered against his mouth. He gentled his tongue and let her calm until only an occasional quiver remained.

  Beth opened dazed eyes and looked at him and despite his best intentions, a smile curved his mouth. “Hang on, little one. We’re not finished yet.”

  Succumbing to temptation, he kissed his way up her body until he could plunge into the honeyed depths of her mouth. He knew that she could taste herself on his tongue but she only moaned a little and returned his kiss more fiercely. After he had kissed her almost long enough to satisfy his craving for her sweet taste, he started kissing his way back down her body. Her nipples were still long and full and he lingered there, pulling them into his mouth over and over until she was arching her back and clutching his head. With a satisfied growl, he moved lower. Her cleft was swollen and wet and he licked it with long, gentle strokes, sending the tiniest of flicks across her engorged clit.

  Beth moaned, grasping his head, and he pressed one thick finger into her tiny opening. Goddess, she was tight. Despite the slick fluids bathing his finger, the snug passage resisted the intrusion. His heart sank; he had been right—she was too small. He started to pull back but she moaned again and thrust against his finger. Her body relaxed the tiniest fraction and his finger slipped completely inside her body. She felt incredible, like hot, wet silk wrapped around him. Keeping up the long gentle strokes of his tongue, he slid his finger in and out of her body until she squirmed against him. Wanting to prolong her pleasure, he slid his finger out and explored lower, to the even tinier pink opening between her buttocks. The perfect rosette tempted him and he let his finger glide back and forth across the delicate flesh, enjoying her response as she trembled. He teased the small opening and was just about to pull back when she thrust against him and the tip of his finger slid past the tight ring of muscle.

  He froze, scared to move and hurt her, but she pressed up impatiently and his finger slid deeper as she writhed against his mouth. Very gently, he slid his thumb into her pussy, hardly daring to believe that her fragile body accepted his intrusion. She bucked against him again and his doubts disappeared. He set a demanding rhythm with his finger and thumb and drew her swollen clit into his mouth, sucking it with equal intensity. She came almost immediately, crying his name, and satisfaction roared through him. Both channels spasmed around his embedded digits and the thought that he might eventually sink his cock into those hot, wet depths almost sent him over the edge. He licked her softly until her breathing slowed and then gently withdrew from her body.

  Beth could barely open her eyes but she wanted to see Dragar’s face. She had never felt anything so intense—or satisfying. Her body was still quivering with pleasure. His face appeared above her and she reached for him as he kissed her so slowly and sweetly she almost cried. Her hand cupped his face and she trailed her fingers down the twin scars. This time he didn’t pull away, but smiled down at her.

  “Go to sleep, little one.”

  Something nagged at her and she forced her sleepy brain to concentrate. “But you didn’t…What about you?”

  An amused growl rumbled against her chest. “I’m very satisfied. Go to sleep.”

  He tucked her against him and she snuggled close and drifted off.

  She woke during the night, unable to remember her dream but with tears streaming down her face. Dragar immediately pulled her closer and held her, stroking her hair until the rending sorrow eased and she could sleep again.

  Chapter Six

  Once again, Beth woke up surrounded by a warm male body. This time she didn’t hesitate to wiggle closer, pressing kisses into Dragar’s warm neck. He growled and she knew that he was awake. He rolled over her and she smiled up at him. Something had changed in his face, and his eyes flared silver as he reached down to kiss her. His mouth was hard and demanding and she arched up against him. He thrust his tongue harder into her mouth and she moaned a little and pressed closer, her nipples hard, hot points against his chest. They were both panting by the time he pulled away.

  “Enough, little one, before I forget my good intentions. I need to check our position. A captain does have some duties, you know.”

  She couldn’t help pouting as he started to remove his warm body and he lowered his head back down and nibbled on her plump lower lip before whispering in her ear.

  “But if you’re a good girl, maybe we can have story time again tonight.”

  A shiver rippled through her and she arched against him, but he laughed and stood up. She watched him disappear into the san, enjoying the view every step of the way, and wishing she could join him. Unfortunately, his massive body filled the tiny compartment and wouldn’t leave much room for her.

  She was trying to decide if that might be fun anyway when a beeping noise sounded from the instrument panel and a light started flashing. That couldn’t be good. She turned to the san door but Dragar was already out and on his way to the controls.

  “What is it?” she whispered.

  “Another ship. Too far for me to detect the signature yet.”

  Not quite sure why she was frightened, Beth crept closer and pressed against his side. He threw her a quick glance and slid an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t worry, little one. We’re not exactly the only ship in the galaxy.”

  Nonetheless, they both relaxed as the ship moved further away and the alarms ceased.

  “Was it those creatures?”

  “The Serigali?” He studied the now silent panel. “I can’t eliminate the possibility, but I don’t know why or how they would have tracked us. I need to spend more time analyzing their log.”

  He leaned against the back of the command chair and frowned at the long-range scanner. Beth suddenly realized that the enormous expanse of hard flesh pressed against her side was completely naked. He had rushed out of the shower without stopping to dry off or put on clothes. Little droplets of liquid were sliding down the sculpted muscles of his back. She followed their path with her eyes as they highlighted each impressive ridge before reaching the even more impressive curve of his ass. Unable to resist, she traced the tracks with her fingers, cupping his buttock and squeezing the taut flesh.

  He responded instantly, eyes turning silver, and she tightened her grip. “Do you have to do it right now?”

  Clearly undecided, he hesitated. She wiggled her fingers a little further and teased the sensitive cleft. Her nipples had beaded and she rubbed them against his side. He growled and she gave him an innocent look.

  “Log first,” he said reluctantly. “I have to know if you are in danger.”

  She sighed and removed her hand from his ass. “Fine. Is nudity the uniform of the day?” Her fingers reached for the bottom of her tank but he grabbed them.

  “No, it’s not. I’m going to finish my shower and start on the log.”

  “Are you sure? I would really like to wash these clothes—and not on my body this time. It’s too warm in here to wear much.” His jaw clenched and she knew that he was thinking about her running around the small cabin naked. She loved teasing him. “Next time you abduct someone, you should let them pack a bag.”

  “I did not abduct you,” he ground out. “And there will not be a next time.”

  Not sure why the comment had bothered him, she backed away.


  “There are clothes in that locker,” he said curtly, and headed for the san, turning away too quickly for her to catch more than a brief glimpse of a truly impressive erection. Not that she had much experience in that department but she was willing to learn. And she really wanted him to be the subject of that study. Damn the man, why wouldn’t he let her really look at him?

  Biting her lip, she searched the locker. On first glance it appeared that everything he owned was leather and enormous but she finally found some shirts made out of a soft, cotton-like cloth. They were cut like sleeveless tee shirts with a deep V-neck. The fabric felt wonderful and she slipped out of her pink set and pulled a black shirt over her head. His wild musky scent wrapped around her along with the soft fabric. The shirt reached to mid-thigh and the neck dipped halfway down her chest, exposing a considerable amount of cleavage. The shoulders fell almost to her elbows and with a little judicious shrugging would slide right off of her much narrower frame. This would work.

  Dragar stepped out of the san while she was experimenting. His eyes immediately flared to molten silver but he only pulled on his loincloth and walked to the command chair. Pleased with his initial reaction, she made them both mugs of cafir, a bitter drink that was the only alternative to water on the ship. She brought him the drink and lingered, standing at his elbow until he sighed and pulled her into his lap.

  “I like seeing you in my shirt, little one,” he said, and gave her a long, slow kiss. By the time he lifted his head, she was breathless and her pussy was pulsing. She could feel the long, hard length of his cock beneath her butt but when she wiggled against him, he clamped her in place. “I’m looking at the log. You can stay if you keep still.”

  Beth nodded. His strong body surrounded her and she was…happy right where she was. She watched curiously as he turned to the controls. After a manipulating some buttons, a holographic image appeared in front of them. The image consisted of various colors lights and some odd symbols in a three dimensional grid. He rotated it slowly, occasionally expanding one of the lights or retrieving more of the symbols, and she studied it with him. Almost an hour passed while he made two slow rotations and then he paused, leaning back and tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the chair arm.

  “There’s a pattern, isn’t there?”

  “You can see that?” He sounded surprised and Beth poked him.

  “I’m an artist. Of course, I can see patterns. It doesn’t mean I understand what it signifies.”

  “Tell me what you see.”

  “They are making a circuit. Those seven lights…” She pointed at them. “They appear over and over in the same frequency and the same distribution. The others appear to be random, either deliberately or accidentally obscuring the pattern.”

  He nodded. “My assumption would be that it is deliberate. But why?”

  “What are the lights?”

  “Places where the ship stopped—space stations and planets. They don’t seem to have a lot in common but they are all standard destinations. Except those two…” He gestured at two of the lights. “The green one is an Imperial pleasure world. The Serigali are primarily hunters and small traders. I’m not sure why they would have been invited, or welcome on a world populated by rich aristocrats.”

  “Maybe they’re bored,” she suggested, and he gave an amused growl. “And that one?”

  She pointed at the other light and felt him tense around her.

  “That’s Trillium, a claim world.” His voice was as tense as his body. She waited for him to continue but he didn’t say anything else. She started to ask him what a claim world was, but before she could get the words out, he had lifted her gently out of his lap. “I’m going to research some of these random worlds.”

  It was clearly a dismissal. Feeling unexpectedly hurt, Beth retreated to the bunk and sought refuge in her sketchbook. As always, drawing soothed her and she didn’t notice time passing until her stomach rumbled. Laying her work away, she prepared a meal. Dragar joined her, looking grim and distracted, and ate without speaking. She expected him to return the controls immediately, but instead he sighed and sat back. Some of the tension seemed to leave his body and he pulled her into his arms, resting his head against hers.

  Dragar cradled Beth’s small body in his arms and tried to makes sense of his conflicting emotions. The day had started so well. He liked sleeping with her, liked feeling her nestled into his arms, and he definitely liked waking up with her. Her sweet scent tantalized him until he wanted to bury himself inside her. Last night had been unexpectedly promising. Despite her tiny frame, she responded so openly to his touch. He began to consider that with time and training, she might be able to accommodate him after all. His cock stiffened as he considered how he would train her. He was willing to take all the time she needed—and he would enjoy every moment.

  But seeing Trillium had reminded him of his other limitation. No matter how much he wanted her—or how much she seemed to want him—was it really fair to her? He had no wealth, no holdings, and an uncertain place in his clan. He could not form a mating bond with her.

  Forcing his attention back to their current situation, he decided it was time to return to the subject of her paintings.

  “Now, little one, we need to talk about these images of yours.”

  This time he could feel her tense but he merely cuddled her closer and waited. Beth took a deep breath. When she finally spoke, her voice was so low he could barely hear it.

  “My parents died when I was very little. My foster parents were too old to adopt but they took me in anyway. They were very kind to me.” She paused. “I always felt a little different. School was hard for me.”

  “Why?” he asked. She was obviously intelligent, as well as sweet and beautiful. He couldn’t imagine why she would have had problems.

  “I’m…sensitive to other people. Sometimes I pick up their feelings. And when I’m around a lot of people, it feels as if there is something pressing at me all the time. It’s why I live where I do.”

  “You’re an empath?” He was surprised but not shocked. It was a rare talent but not unheard of, especially for artists. She relaxed a little and he wondered what reaction she had expected from him.

  “I don’t really know. It doesn’t happen all the time or with everyone.”

  He hesitated but he really wanted to know. “What do you feel from me?”

  “Warmth. Strength. Security.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “You make me feel safe and happy, like I’m home.”

  The words shocked him. How could he provide a home for her when he didn’t have one? And yet, he knew what she meant. When she was in his arms, he felt…complete in a way he had never experienced before. She leaned back a little to look into his face. Her hand reached up to stroke his face and he felt her fingers touch his scars. He didn’t think she had done it intentionally but it reminded him yet again of why he was not suited to her. He pulled her hand away.

  “Your faith in me is misplaced, Beth.” But he couldn’t make himself release her. “And the images?”

  She hesitated. “Sometimes I just pick up images. Usually they are from people who are close to me and they represent places or things that are important to them.” She peeped up at him but he kept his gaze neutral. “When I was in high school I didn’t have many friends but I was close to one girl. I knew she vacationed at the beach every summer and I decided to paint her a picture. I had this vision of a beach cottage and it seemed appropriate. When I gave it to her, she just stared at it.”

  She twisted her fingers together, and he covered them gently with his own. “When she asked me where I got the photograph, I had no idea what she was talking about and made the mistake of telling her so. It turned out to be an exact painting of the place where she stayed every summer, right down to the cracked flowerpot next to the door. She…didn’t react well.”

  Her words were mild but he could hear the pain in her voice. Dragar’s arms tightened around her and she buried her face in his s
houlder, breathing in his scent while she trembled. He turned over the possibilities in his mind. The ability to pick up images from those around you was an even rarer talent but some of the priests of the Goddess made similar claims.

  She tried for a casual shrug but couldn’t hide the tension in her slender shoulders. “I didn’t make that mistake again. I buried myself in my art and avoided people as much as possible. When my foster parents died, they left me a small amount of money—enough to buy the cabin and let me concentrate on painting. Now I sell enough to support myself. I only go into the city occasionally for openings. It’s a peaceful life but sometimes…I get lonely.”

  She fell silent, nestling into his shoulder again. He was astounded by her strength because he knew only too well the price of that kind of life. He had forced his past away and managed to create a life that worked. It wasn’t as restricted as hers but he was always conscious of that sense of distance. Of that same sense of loneliness.

  “It still happens,” she continued finally. “But only when I’m close to someone, and I’m not close to many people. Also, now I can usually tell if what I’m painting is coming from my head or someone else’s.”

  “But you weren’t close to me. We were light years apart.” He kept his voice calm, even though his heart had started to pound. She had sensed him long before they met. What was the connection between them?

  “I hadn’t met you so I didn’t recognize the source—but somehow, I knew you.” She took a deep breath. “Look at the sketch I did this morning.”

  The image was stark, the charcoal strokes dark and harsh, and the scene rendered with minimal detail. Tall blocks, houses perhaps, surrounded a central space with a tall column in the middle. A small figure, almost invisible among the buildings, stood to one side.

  He could feel her watching him as he surveyed the sketch. He started talking quietly, his fingers playing with the edge of the paper.