The Blarmling Dilemma (Hearts in Orbit Book 1)

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The Blarmling Dilemma (Hearts in Orbit Book 1) Page 15

by S. C. Mitchell


  “Why not? Who knows if you’d ever get another chance? Sure you took a risk, but you did rescue Miss Stuffy Pants.”

  Phoebe giggled, her bright eyes rising to meet his. “Miss Snotty Pants,” she corrected.

  A smile crinkled the corners of her luscious mouth. Moving his hand to the nape of her neck he pulled her mouth toward his. Sweet and sensuous, he savored her lips and probed with his tongue. Phoebe raked a hand into his hair and deepened the kiss.

  Rigel rolled, trying to move Phoebe beneath him, but the large stuffed toy impeded his progress. Breaking the kiss, he scooped up the animal. “Sorry Miss Snotty Pants, but you’ve got to go.”

  Placing the toy behind him he moved in again on Phoebe’s lips but she put a hand to his chest.

  “Rigel, you’re not well enough. The pain . . .”

  Yes, there was pain. He’d been ignoring it, but it was most definitely there. Still, his need for her drove him. His cock was hard, demanding.

  He needed her so badly, he was willing to pay any price.

  “I can assure you, the pain of not having you will be much greater than any discomfort I experience in your arms.”

  He was used to ignoring the aching in his leg. He just had to extend that to the rest of his body. He rolled to take a top position, silencing Phoebe’s protests with another kiss. His upper arm pounded as he propped himself up, protesting the weight he put on it.

  Pounding agony fought with throbbing need, as his tongue tangled with hers. As he drank her in, an idea struck.

  Lart, I know you’re listening in, you little voyeur. Do it!

  We should wait. He’s not ready for this.

  But she was oh so ready. He was back with her. She was in his arms. How she’d dreamed of this, thought it had been taken from her. Her tongue played over and around his, as she felt his arms wrap around her.

  Phoebe relished Rigel’s kiss. Her head spun. She felt as if she were floating.

  Then she realized she was floating.

  Rigel broke off the kiss and gave her a mischievous smirk. “This will be much easier on my poor, aching body.”

  Rigel’s poor aching body was a sight to behold. The cover had drifted up and off, and he was beautifully naked. He held her loosely and she took the opportunity to run fingers down his chest and abdominals.

  “I’ve heard it can’t be done. The physics, no friction . . . bodies tend to drift away.”

  Rigel’s eyes widened. “Come on. You’ve really never tried it?”

  Her one bungling attempt had been a disaster.

  One of her old flames, Flavian Markum, had taken her on a date in his shiny new LZ-25E. They’d dined at the posh Flaxron Ritz Orbiting Restaurant, then gone to a 4D Holotron amusement park. On the way home, he’d parked his starship in orbit and switched off the internal gravity. It had all seemed very romantic at the time, but they’d ended up flying apart, bumping heads and bruising various body parts, before they’d finally given up in frustration.

  “Tried it, sure,” she sighed. “Who hasn’t? Once was enough to convince me it can’t be done.”

  Rigel chuckled as he worked the fasteners on her blouse. “Oh, it can be done, trust me.”

  Spinning her so that her back rested against his chest, he wrapped one arm around her waist, and slid his free hand inside her blouse to cup her breast. He nibbled her earlobe, then whispered, “Phoebe Callista, you are about to join the Zero-G Club.”

  Chapter 21

  Phoebe melted to Rigel’s touch as the heat of passion swiftly built within her. He never lost his grip on her waist as he manipulated her achingly erect nipple through the thin fabric of her bra. At the same time, his lips caressed her ear and the back of her neck.

  “Slow and easy, at least at first, is the real key,” he said.

  His hand moved up to her shoulder, easing the blouse down her arm. As she pulled her hand from the sleeve, Rigel took it and guided her back around to face him. The loose side of the garment stayed where it was as she spun, in effect stripping itself away from her. She slid her other arm out and her blouse floated away.

  Rigel’s eyes lit as his gaze burned a path down her torso. She’d chosen to wear a black and gold, synthsilk lace bra that revealed more than it hid. She’d put it on thinking of him, hoping . . .

  “Please tell me the panties match the bra.” His voice was husky, dripping with raw sexual energy. Passionate fires blazed inside her.

  “Now, you’ll just have to find that out for yourself,” she teased.

  His erect cock jerked in response.

  She slid her hand once again down the ripples of his abs, reaching lower to wrap hungry fingers around his erection. “So it’s important we hold on to each other?” Two could play this game.

  He growled as his eyes widened. Still, his deft fingers found the magna-catch on her slacks, opening the fly. She toed off her boots and he ran his hands between the material and the side of her bare thigh, one at a time, pushing her slacks down while retaining contact.

  “Matching and magnificent.” He nibbled at her hip, clutching the elastoid banding of her panties between his teeth and tugging, before letting it snap back.

  Of course her bra and panties matched. Phoebe had some fashion sense.

  He worked the slacks off her ankles, then spun her slowly in the weightlessness of zero-G.

  She had to turn her head to watch the intensity in his eyes as they blazed a trail up and down her body as she twirled. She felt beautiful, sexy, desired.

  “You are so beautiful.” He’d floated back away from her as he watched her spin, and had to kick off a wall to rejoin her in the center of the room.

  “I thought you said we needed to keep in contact?” Phoebe purred.

  His smile was mischievous. “Couldn’t help it. I got distracted.”

  She was amazed at how deftly he moved in the weightless conditions. As he approached he held out his arms and gathered her back in, kissing her passionately. Triggering the catch on her bra, he freed her breasts. Without gravity, she realized, she had no need of the garment’s support. The girls floated as freely as she did.

  She’d always felt her breasts a bit too large, but Rigel didn’t seem to be complaining as he adjusted his hold on her to cradle one in the palm of his hand. His thumb flicked over her puckering nipple, sending sparks flying straight to her core. Fires of passion blazed hot and moisture pooled below.

  Rigel broke the kiss and lowered his mouth to suckle her nipple. His rough tongue dragged over the sensitive bud, as his teeth lightly nibbled. She arched her back in response as hot passion rippled through her.

  His left hand, the one holding her to him, glided down her back and sank beneath the lacy fabric of her panties to cup her butt. Sliding lower, between her thighs, he found the moist pooling of her passion and pushed a probing finger inside.

  Phoebe positioned her right hand at the small of his back, to keep from drifting away, then reached down to gently cradle his balls. The loose flesh drew tight, and Rigel groaned. His fingers plunged and explored, his mouth ravished her breast. She circled his cock with her fingers and slid them along his pulsing shaft.

  “I need you so bad.” His voice was raspy, full of desire.

  Moving to slide the scrap of lace down her legs, divesting her of her panties, Rigel then slid an eager hand up her inner thigh. Her skin sizzled, alive with sensation, as his hand reached the apex and he skidded his thumb across her clit.

  “Ohhh!” Her core clenched. The ecstatic feel of his fingers caressing her most intimate area sent waves of erotic electricity shooting throughout her body. Her seeping moisture coated his ready digits. He caressed her folds then drove two ready fingers into her.

  Probing, he found every erogenous point, and attacked them all with blissful torture. S
hock waves rippled through her and hot tides rose in molten response to his caresses.

  Rigel’s cock pulsed and jerked in her hand. Ready, so ready, for her. “Gods, Rigel, I need you now.”

  He spun her then, pulling her ankles up over his shoulders, so she was floating on her back. Locking his hands on the fronts of her thighs, he impaled her on his shaft. Long, thick, and oh so filling, he plunged into her as she arched with pleasure. Somewhere in the back of her mind she appreciated the deft positioning, allowing him close, deep penetration and complete control, as they drifted above the bed.

  Phoebe looked up into Rigel’s dark gaze. Sweat beaded on his brow, but something deep and erotic smoldered within his piercing blue depths. Staring into her eyes, he cocked a crooked smile. Was he smirking . . . or trying to cover the pain he had to be in?

  Certainly the zero-G had made everything easier on his body. Still, he was driving himself harder than he should, she knew that. Had she let things go too far, too fast?

  His hands slid under her legs tugging her closer as he drove into her again. The intensity of his lovemaking caused her concentration to slip. An orgasmic swell flooded through her core as the passionate tide rose within. His grip tightened, his body arching, as he slammed into her again. The ripples of an orgasm washed over her, driving all thought from her.

  Gods, the way he makes me feel. He was close, she could tell from the dark, sensual gleam in his eyes and the intensity of his concentration.

  With a final plunge, he yelled her name and ground against her center as he emptied inside her. Pulse after wild pulse, sending tingles of pleasure through her again, as his orgasm spent itself. Then he collapsed over her, releasing her legs and gathering her against his chest.

  Lips, soft yet firm, captured her mouth, as they spun slowly, floating in the center of the room. Their momentum took them toward the ceiling, but as they approached, Rigel kicked out softly, propelling them in the direction of the bed.

  “Lart, bring the gravity to point-one,” he called out as they centered over the bed. He spun her one last time, so she ended up on top of him. The gravity kicked in and they slowly floated down to the soft mattress.

  Rigel looked spent. Smug, but spent.

  His smirk returned. “And that, my dear, is how you make love in zero-G.”

  Phoebe pulled the covering over Rigel’s dozing body, his lips still curled in a smile as he slept.

  Smirk all you want, circus man. You’ve certainly earned the right.

  He’d fallen right off to sleep. She prayed he hadn’t overtaxed himself yet again. Smiling at him from the edge of the bed, she ran her hand down the side of his face. Warmth filled her. The encounter had been nothing short of magical.

  There was something here, beyond anything she’d ever felt. Why did her life have to be so messed up right now? Still, if she hadn’t helped the Blarmlings escape and gotten into such trouble, she’d never have met Rigel.

  She used the cleansing chamber, setting the cycle for long, warm, and wonderful. Then she dressed, and went to check on the ship and their course. They were still days from Tanis Yarbia, and everything looked okay, but with this ship, Phoebe could never be sure. The Blarmlings’ Hope still needed a lot of repair and maintenance, and some systems seemed to be only running on what her father referred to as ‘a lick and a promise.’

  Soft twittering came from the cell that Oolo and Lart had taken up as their room. Oolo’s trill had an amused overtone. Phoebe’d long given up trying to keep the Blarmlings out of her head. The creatures were curious and inquisitive. In some ways . . . very human.

  Oolo and Lart peered out at her from the cell’s doorway, then tottered over, delightedly jabbering at her.

  “So, I take it you guys enjoyed the show?”

  Chapter 22

  Rigel woke to a host of aches and pains. His body complained with each movement, and also when he tried to lay still. Yeah, he’d overdone it a bit. Still, if given a choice, he’d do it all again. Warmth coursed through him. What was it about Phoebe that seemed so right?

  They were in no position for him to even think about something long-term. Still, he couldn’t help wondering what his life would be like with Phoebe in it. The woman just did something to him. Something good.

  She made him feel like no one ever had. Like he was a real person . . . not a spacer.

  As for the aches and pains, well he had a solution for those as well. Gritting his teeth he rolled over and pulled open one of the drawers next to the bed. Taped to the bottom, well hidden from O’Callaghan’s constant harassment, was his most expensive investment: A Zortol Micobot Medic.

  The Z.M.M. could repair his body from the inside and, unlike the med-blanket, would continue working while he was up and moving about.

  The technology was expensive. Rigel had picked it up a year ago, after beating O’Callaghan to a turn-in of a high-paying bounty. He knew there was a high probability that someday he’d be badly injured in his line of work. With no one to look after him, he needed a way to medicate and keep moving. As much as he hated the thought of putting a robot inside his body, he loathed the thought of being helpless.

  He looked at the gel-encased Microbot and sighed. Phoebe needed him whole and healthy. “You damn well better work, and work fast.”

  As he swallowed the pill, Phoebe’s cry filled the ship.

  “Rigel?” He couldn’t miss the fear and concern in Phoebe’s tone. “I think something’s wrong with Oolo.”

  Forcing his aching body into motion, Rigel slipped on a pair of sleep shorts and padded out to the control room.

  Phoebe was sitting on the floor, holding Oolo in her lap. The Blarmling had her paws wrapped around her stomach and was rocking rhythmically. Her eyes shut tight, Oolo was panting heavily.

  Lart was hovering close, motioning to Phoebe with his hands.

  I have tried to tell Phoebe that this is the way. Lart’s tone was filled with frustration. I need to be with Oolo now. The transfer is ready. At last I am to know how big I am as a man.

  Rigel may not have gotten all the words translated right, but the meaning was crystal clear.

  “Phoebe, give Oolo to me. She’s fine.”

  Phoebe looked his way. There was fear in her eyes, but trust also. Rigel lifted Oolo from her arms and carried the Blarmling into the cell, laying her on the cot. “Okay, big man, she’s all yours.”

  Phoebe came to stand in the doorway as Lart climbed onto the cot next to Oolo. From the slit between his legs, Lart extended his mating tube. The Blarmling’s ‘cock’ snaked its way toward Oolo’s slit.

  “Certainly they’re not going to . . .” Phoebe’s hand went to her mouth.

  “It’s time to transfer the embryos into Lart, for final gestation,” Rigel explained. “Lart will now find out how many young were conceived. The average litter is three, and anything over that will confirm that Lart is a ‘big man’ among the Blarmlings.

  Lart is strong, brave. Oolo is best mate ever. I will be big man. Maybe even biggest man.

  Very few Blarmling couples conceived five or more in a litter, yet it was the dream of every Blarmling male. Lart was all but thumping his chest as the mating tube entered Oolo’s slit.

  Come my child. You are the first.

  Lart’s running commentary made Rigel chuckle. He could see the skin of the tube expand around the fetus as it moved down the tube, out of Oolo toward Lart.

  Lart’s eyes went wide as the first fetus entered him and the second started down the tube. Oh! They did not tell me it would feel like this.

  “Should we be watching?” Phoebe asked. Her cheeks were red, but her eyes took it all in.

  “Don’t worry,” Rigel assured her. “Blarmlings are very public with their sexual activities and birthing. If we were on Blarm, the entire village would be
standing around them, cheering them on.”

  A third fetus entered the tube. Oh my. Is there room for three in there?

  Lart’s exclamation elicited a giggle from Oolo. There was room in me, and you are much bigger.

  Rigel could already see Lart’s stomach starting to stretch to accommodate the new life as the third entered him and a fourth started down the tube.

  “Four, Lart. Congratulations. You are a big man.” Rigel beamed down at his friend. He knew how much it meant to any Blarmling male to conceive a litter of four.

  Concentration registered in Lart’s eyes as the fourth made its way through the tube.

  No! The surprised exclamation came from Oolo. Lart not big man. Lart biggest man!

  Any discomfort in Lart’s eyes disappeared as he looked down to see a fifth fetus entering the tube from Oolo.

  “Well, there’ll be no living with you now, biggest man,” Rigel chided.

  Lart sniffed. Knew it all along.

  Both Blarmlings fell into a deep slumber after the transfer. Phoebe tucked them in, and couldn’t help giving each of them a kiss on their furry foreheads. They seemed so courageous.

  What must it be like to be forced into a different world, held captive against your will, and pregnant on top of everything? She knew they were totally dependent on her and Rigel to protect them. But she would protect them, she vowed, and get them home. Whatever it took.

  She entered the control room to find Rigel in the command chair. His head and broad shoulders showed over the back of the seat. He’d put a shirt on.

 

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