Taken to Voraxia

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Taken to Voraxia Page 19

by Elizabeth Stephens


  Boldly and violently, Krisxox charges forward and sweeps Rhorkanterannu’s legs. The Niahhorru king bites out a curse in the Niahhorru language and bucks to free himself. His body is built for fighting. Purely this. They are a warrior species to the bone and there is not a part of the Niahhorru skeleton that is not lethal, so when he swipes backwards with his free arms, a spike in his lower left forearm catches Krisxox’s chest.

  Blood flows, but it does not slow Krisxox. He wraps a fist around Rhorkanterannu’s upper arm, jerking him upright before he thrusts his heel into the center of Rhorkanterannu’s chest. Rhorkanterannu flies backwards and lands in a crouch.

  The skein that guards his eyes drops into place so that his face is rendered eyeless. Against pale grey skin, there is now only a mottled silver swirling where glossy eyes once were. He shakes his head, opens his too-large mouth and roars out his challenge.

  Krisxox surges forward but I bark an order for him to calm himself, which he only moves to obey after he has been pinned by three of the xcleranx. It takes several more moments of brutal tension before both warriors straighten and Krisxox and a team of six xcleranx escort Rhorkanterannu out.

  Rhorkanterannu looks back over his shoulder at the human female and then at my own and I feel unease shift through my gut. His warning — nox, his decree — weighs heavily on my mind and I look down at my Rakukanna and wonder if there is nothing that Rhorkanterannu would not do to feel the weight of a delicate, compatible female in his arms as I do now. Nothing.

  16

  Miari

  I’m still rattled by the altercation that took place between the big guy and the Voraxians. And I do mean the big guy. I’d heard talk of the pirates that operate the trading planet called Kor before, but any pictures I’d tried to paint in my mind about them were off. Way off.

  Somehow I’d thought they’d look more like the Dra’Kesh who, up until a rotation ago, were my only experience dealing with non-human life forms. But they don’t. And I’m suddenly eerily, horrifyingly grateful that — despite the destruction they’ve caused — it was the Dra’Kesh who stumbled upon our little rock and not the Niahhorru.

  Even though they have two legs and walk upright — unlike the smushy bodies of the Oosa — the Niahhorru king stood half a head taller than even the tallest of the Voraxians and had few extra inches on either side too. His matte grey skin, dusted in silver where it hardened, was almost all plates, shifting and overlapping with one another whenever he moved. Thick dark spikes in his back… Teeth that looked like shards of glass… No eyes at all when the protective shield came down to cover them… And did I mention he had four arms?

  So yes, though it pains me to even think it, I’m glad for something that I never in all my cycles thought I’d be grateful for — that it wasn’t a worse species that found us.

  “You will tell me what it is that you are thinking of, my Rakukanna,” Raku says to me with his gravelly pitch low enough to make me shudder.

  A surge of heat makes me forget all about the Niahhorru king and look up. Our werro is in sight now. I grin. “Hopefully the same thing you are.”

  I yelp as he sweeps my legs in a rush and starts to run towards our home. Our home. I laugh hard and we don’t even make it across the threshold.

  Against the outside of our werro, Xoran’s body slams into mine. He presses me back against the bark and I straddle his hips with my thights. My arms hook over his neck and I feel fully invaded when he presses his lips to mine.

  Movement. Heat. Need. Darkness closes around us and I open my eyes to find us inside, the werro doors sliding closed and wreathing us in a muted light.

  His hand cups my cheek, runs over my hair. “My Miari,” he purrs and I can feel the rumbling in his chest that says so much more than those two little words do.

  I smile and my stress at meeting the King of the Kor planet, and the leaders of the other eight quadrants, and giving him my little gift and explaining to him how I feel now and how things have changed for me, melts away. I sigh and let myself just…be.

  Xoran utters an order and a fire lights in the sunken floor pit, surrounded by plush pillows and furs. He takes me there now and lays me down gently across them.

  My back melts against the fur and I let him unbuckle the belt around my shoulders and spread the fur cloak and hide so that he can see my breasts fully and then, when he tears my skirt apart with a single slice of his claws, my whole body.

  “My Xoran,” I whisper back. He shudders, and smiles at me and I can’t help but wonder if he even knows that his ridges are sparkling in a whole host of colors. I reach up and touch his cheek and with nothing more than the pressure of my fingertips on his face, guide him down to me.

  “I think I might…be starting to love you,” I whisper against his lips seconds before lifting up and pressing my mouth to his.

  He tastes like spice and like the fermented drink we had during the celebration. I love the taste so much it hurts. The only thing that hurts worse is when he severs our connection. Drawing back, breathing hard, he nuzzles my cheek with his broad, flat nose.

  “What is this love word you say?” He whispers.

  I smile. “It is the greatest term of affection. It means…” I scramble, quickly searching for an appropriate comparison. “It means that you are the center of my whole universe.”

  Color pops across his ridges and travels down the backs of his arms. He quickly unbuckles his belt and drops his own heavy, black loincloth. Positioning himself at my entrance, I’m surrounded by his body and his heat.

  Looking down at me as he is, I’m caught in the way the fire casts orange shadows across the hard planes of his face and I am left wondering if I have ever seen a male so beautiful.

  “You are the center of my whole universe, Miari. I have this love for you too.” He thrusts forward, entering me in one sweeping motion that sends liquid exploding out of my core. We moan in unison, both surprised by it. My eyes roll back into my skull and I bite my bottom lip, but he frees that lip with his thumb and then devours it.

  His tongue slips against mine as he gently thrusts in and out of me, moving with a slowness that makes it hard for me to think. To breathe.

  My core squeezes around him and the slickness coating my clit creates the most delicious friction every time his hips piston to meet mine. His tail twists with my tail and when he reaches behind me to cup its base, I black out. The orgasm hits me like steel to the skull and I shout Xoran’s name to the werro root ceiling as my insides clench and spasm and tremors rip through my legs. My back arches and Xoran kisses his way down my neck.

  The moment lasts for breaths of spans. The experience lasts for spans itself.

  In and out of sleep. Thrusting in and out of me. I come a thousand times more and when I next blink awake, it’s to the sensation of cum weeping down my inner thighs. I can feel my belly full with it and see my own orgasm still coating Xoran’s lips.

  Xoran and I have taken each other in every room of the house and we are soaked in the product of each other’s pleasure. Now, he sleeps like a youngling beside me on the lush, fur-covered pallet and I think to myself that perhaps it’s time for his next gift.

  Cautiously, I ease myself out from the tangle of his long limbs and I’m surprised — but not that surprised — when he doesn’t wake. He just eases onto his back and stretches slightly against the furs.

  After a quick trip to the washroom, a quick rinse off, and a quick change of wardrobe, I walk back into the bedroom and stand right in front of the pallet at his feet.

  I stroke one of his ankles, and say gently, “Tax xala, Xoran.” Good morning.

  He blinks his big black eyes open and I see his muscles tense when he first reaches to the place in the furs I’d just occupied, only to find it empty. His lazy lids snap up after that and his nostrils flare.

  He sits up slightly but, seeing me, eases. And then he blinks and he sees me and I laugh. His ridges burn bright purple and I don’t mistake the way the fur draped acros
s his hips suddenly lifts, as if by magic.

  “Ver…verax?” He fumbles. I’ve never heard him fumble before and the nerves I’d had that he wouldn’t like this gift fade away like ash in water.

  I push my hair back and roll my shoulders away from my ears, hoping to appear in the best light. “I made it after you cut the breeding belt. I figured it was like a gift. You get to unwrap me.”

  He licks his lips. His ridges flare white and then purple once again. “You made this of the breeding belt?”

  I nod and bite my bottom lip.

  “Turn for me.”

  I flush wildly, but do as he says, turning in a slow circle so that he can see the way I refashioned the destroyed silken pieces of the breeding belt into a series of sashes that drape below my behind, wrap around my stomach, cross my breasts and finally fasten around my neck. Sort of like I’m wearing a collar. Many collars.

  I come back around and don’t know if it’s possible for him to be any more surprised than he is now and I laugh again, very lightly. The whole world feels light and bubbly around us.

  He crooks two of his fingers at me. The two smallest ones. I guess that means to come forward? I do, and slide slowly up onto the furs. I ease my way between his legs and slowly pull the fabric off of him.

  My hands find his thighs and he is utterly speechless as they slowly massage their way up. I reach his cock, but instead of grabbing it, I touch it so, so gently.

  A dark groan leaves his throat. His head falls back, but he lifts it with narrowed eyes, as if he just has to look. I laugh and lean forward, then blow. Very lightly my breath fans over his cock.

  This close, this focused, I can see each ridge and drag my fingers over every one. There are six, and they get bigger the further up I go. The one right under the mushroomed head is bigger than a knuckle — his, not mine — and his moan shakes the whole house when I rub small circles around and over it.

  I lean in even further forward and then I stretch my tongue towards the slitted tip of his dick, wetting it. He rumbles and shakes. His arm reaches for me, then balls into a fist as if he wants nothing more than to force me to pleasure him fully, but at the same time, can’t or won’t or loves the torture I’m delivering him.

  I lick him a little more, tasting and kissing my way down to the base, covering every salty inch. It’s smooth at the shaft and slightly rougher over the ridges. I imagine if a woman were dry it would hurt very much, but I’m never dry when he enters me. When he invades me.

  Scooting a little further towards his knees, I spit onto his cock. He starts, surprised by the action, and though I’m a little embarrassed by it too, I’m so turned on I don’t stop.

  The breeding belt band I created slides around, rather than over, my pussy lips I wonder if I can’t come just from the pressure of the belt squeezing me like this.

  I drop my mouth to his balls and worship all three of them equally while, at the same time, running my fisted hand up and down his long shaft. My head bobs and I feel the breeding belt pushing on the outsides of my mound, pressing them together, clenching so tight.

  I start to sweat. Fire bathes me. I can’t take it anymore. I throw one leg over his and start humping it madly, desperate to use the friction of his shin to get me off.

  My lips tighten as a sudden clenching spasm wrecks me. I moan loud and hard, his balls vibrating in my mouth, as the delicious pressure of his plated shin ignites lightning within me.

  At the same time, he roars my name to the ceiling and seconds later I feel hot, inky cum spew over my hand and fall heavy in my hair and drip down my forehead onto my face.

  I lift up and start to wipe it off, but Xoran jerks up into a seat and grabs my wrists. He reaches for my face and takes a finger to my cheek, smearing the cum there so that it covers me even more thickly.

  “Xoran, what are you doing?” I say on a laugh, but he doesn’t answer me. He’s transfixed. His eyes are orbs and his ridges ripple with purple and black, something dark and possessive.

  He pulls me roughly and lays me down in the center of the pallet. He lines my body with his and slowly his fingers move across my face and down my neck. He massages and spreads his seed all over me until he reaches my belly button and the paste runs out. He seems annoyed by that and when he shifts over me, it is with determination.

  He slides into me and I’m shocked he’s hard again so quickly. I gasp, but the sensation doesn’t last. He grunts and withdraws fully. His hand reaches for his cock and he pumps it only twice before more cum launches from the tip and onto my belly.

  He works his cock and rasps words under his breath that the translators don’t catch while his seed falls over my hips and drips between them through my folds. Focusing there, he slides the head of his cock across my core in deliciously slow strokes, painting me with words I’ve never spoken and with a meaning I don’t know. And I don’t care to know. Just as long as he doesn’t stop.

  “Oh moons,” I moan breathlessly, “it feels so good, Xoran…I’m going…I’m…I’m coming…” And I do. I break apart under that slight pressure and curl my fingers into his shoulders just to ride the next wave. Wave after wave.

  His warm breath growls in my ear as his body collapses over mine, “Nox. It doesn’t feel just good. It is everything.”

  His cock punches into me again and he’s still just as rock hard as he had been the first time we were together. I don’t think he ever tires, or if he does, his ability to rebound has left me shaky.

  I can barely move, which is fine because he doesn’t let me. He pins my shoulders beneath his hands and ruts in and out of me frantically.

  Every time I try to bring my legs together, he growls and holds them apart, leaving me capable of little more than screaming out orgasm after orgasm. And he doesn’t stop. It’s only again, only more. The world could have set fire around us and it wouldn’t have mattered. We burn regardless.

  He spends inside of me, everywhere. Wanting more of my mouth. Wanting my pussy. Wanting me. He wants me in ways I have known Kiki is wanted by colony boys, but I never thought it could happen to me. And I want him too. I want him with a wanting strong enough to make time blur.

  I do not deny him and it’s only after eternities pass that I feel his body start to give up and give out. I laugh desperately, because he tries anyways to continue to plunge his hips towards mine, even though his body is all but collapsed. Finally, he exhales a shaky breath into my hair. His hips still. All movement ceases.

  “Your xora is still in me,” I mumble though the voice is hardly my own. Like the rest of me, it’s been stripped bare.

  “Hexa. It will stay there.” He pauses and leans over me to brush my cheek with his lips. He bites down on my earlobe and whispers there, “Unless you are unwell? Do you wish for me to pull my xora out of your breeding mound?”

  Oh stars… “Nox, I don’t.” I really don’t.

  “But you are a human. You need sustenance three times a solar. You have not yet fed. May I feed you, my Miari?”

  I can’t help but shudder. He says my name with a sigh and a caress. My stomach chooses that moment to rumble and I don’t have to wait more than my next breath before he pulls his length out of me and lurches out of our furs.

  Staggering to the doorway, he takes a moment to point at me. Threateningly. “You do not wash or I will be forced to start again.”

  My pussy gushes at the command and I moan as my thighs press together. I’m a canon of sensitivity and even though I’m sore and sticky and sweaty and so very well sexed, I realize that the purring in my chest is loud and if he wanted to, I could go again.

  I sit up when he returns, sliding into the nest next to me and holding a platter towards me stacked high with cold, thinly sliced meats, and flat folded delicacies, blocks of dried something that could just as easily be dariy-based as it could be bread-based or from some kind of nut. I have no idea. All I know is that I need the energy and quickly scarf some of the spicy and sweet foods into my mouth.

 
Between bites, I muse, “I wonder where the breeding belt went.” He shredded it sometime in the past many moments. I laugh, not caring in the slightest.

  He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I will need to breed you eventually in the belt if we are to make a youngling.”

  Finished eating, I turn towards him then and set the tray aside. “Nox, you don’t. Humans on our planet breed without the belt. Maybe it will be the same for us.”

  “Verax?”

  Inspiration hitting me, I lift a leg over his hips and lower myself down over his erection. “Hexa,” I moan.

  He glances wildly at the connection between our bodies and balks, “Even like this?” He seems shocked by the idea.

  I brace my forearms on his shoulders and kiss him gently on the lips. He fills me up all the way and even though I have been mounted a dozen times already, it still takes me a moment to get used to the new fullness, the new exquisite sensation.

  “Hexa,” I gasp raggedly, “Even like this.”

  A breath jerks into his lungs and he seems to struggle to move. Eventually, his clawed fingers dig into my fleshy hips and he starts to guide the motion, lifting me up and drive me down.

  “Then…I will breed you many times to…increase our chances.”

  I choke out my own response, arms looped around his neck as I lose almost all the elasticity my body has left. “You have already bred me many times.”

  “No amount of times is enough. We will…not stop until our duties as Raku and Rakukanna commence tomorrow. Not…until the first meeting. I will not stop. I cannot stop.”

  And he cannot stop. And I do not stop. And we let the fever take us through the solar and into the lunar and at some point I wonder if it is possible to die from too much happiness, even one drop too much, or if it is possible to live in that drop for the rest of eternity. I’d like to try, regardless of the outcome.

 

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