Pleasure Dome

by L. F. Hampton

  Under golden beams that blazed from a seemingly limitless blue sky, sun-drenched, sandy plains surrounded Sol while snow-capped mountains loomed high over her head. From one jungle-leafed, green-splashed wall, a noisy waterfall with a fountain spouting real water ended its fall in an inviting pool filled with fragrant, floating water lilies. Their smell wafted on the gentle, warm breeze that came from hidden ventilators. Mesmerizing 3-D murals adorned each wall, the holograms so lifelike that Sol felt as if she were surely on a desert safari. She even smelled the heated tinge of sage in the desert air, felt the humid moisture of the cooling water of the falls. A soft hypnotic drum beat, coinciding with the lights, only added to the out of place feeling.

  "Like it?” Gabriel smiled at her, evidently recovered from his toe-tripping accident. Sol suddenly wondered if the whole incident had been faked, a distraction to give them time to reacquaint themselves. He hovered at her side and acted as if he'd chosen the room especially for her. The thought that he might have presumed that she would come to him irritated her. He wore that irritating crooked-tooth grin and didn't wait for an answer about the room before he strode to the bamboo bar and lifted a glass in Sol's direction. “Drink?” He moved with the hurried movements of a nervous man; a big, nervous man wearing only ridiculous underwear. Sol couldn't miss the unease that darkened the blue of his stare.

  Despite her flush of sympathy, she still glared. “You know I can't have liquor in my condition, Commander.” She curved her arm over her swollen middle, then turned her back and marched across the room, only to turn back with another glare. She still hadn't forgotten about the Icarus or his involvement. Perhaps she did hate Commander Merriweather after all.

  Gabe frowned, the gesture matching the hurt in his eyes. He held up the glass of pinkish-orange liquid. “It's organic, vitamin-filled fruit juice, Sol. Contrary to what you think, I'm not an idiot."

  "That remains to be seen,” Sol mumbled, and strolled further into the room. He had ordered a special health drink for her. He had thought she would come running to him. She was an idiot for sure. But somehow the idea that Gabe took such measures for her comfort pleased Sol. She moved the draped netting from the side of the four-poster bed before sitting down. Yeah, like any mosquito would dare disturb the tranquility of this place, much less get past the pristine filtering system. “Come over here.” She patted the bed. “So we can talk."

  "Talk?” His normally deep voice sounded strangled. His high cheekbones flushed deeper, and he coughed into his fist. Strange to see such discomposure on such a large man. Even stranger to think that she could cause it.

  Sol grinned. Her commander had lost that polished diplomatic veneer that she disliked so much. “Yeah, talk. I told you we had a lot to talk about.” He walked toward her slowly. And she warmed at the natural way Gabriel moved, so graceful yet so dangerous, just like she remembered him, a jungle cat padding its cautious way toward her ... a very nervous cat.

  "Uh huh. Yeah, we can talk.” He eyed her with his head tilted, his pale eyes speculative. “But right now I'm feeling a bit tongue-tied.” His intense gaze moved over her. The hot look in it left her trembling. His eyes revealed such naked longing.

  For the first time, Sol read real emotion on his face—hunger. Her heart thumped furiously at her planned seduction. She tried for a light tone but her voice sounded husky to her own ears. “Awww, poor baby. And here I was hoping you'd make better use of that tongue.” She smiled her best wicked enigmatic smile, a gesture that Gellico had taught her, abd that Sol had perfected. Gabriel's eyes widened. Sudden redness covered his neck. Sol curled her fingers and motioned him closer “I remember the feel of your tongue, Gabriel.” Her whisper sounded loud in the room. Sol told herself that she was just seducing the commander to make up for sending him those seductive vids. Surely, she wasn't doing this for herself.

  Gabriel couldn't think of a speedy come back to the captain's suggestive remarks. He knew the honesty of what she wasn't saying, felt it through his system, and for the life of him, he couldn't help responding to it. His knees buckled near the bed, and he fell heavily down next to her. He laid his head in Sol's lap and let her fresh, spring-like scent surround him. Her calm muting of his raging empathy senses came like a warm blanket's covering. He had felt the dampening effect when the captain neared his room. He had prepared himself for this meeting, but knowing and experiencing were two different things. Now in her presence, Gabe closed his eyes and snuggled his face into her softness, drowning in the intensity of the sensations that flooded him and those that no longer bothered him. He breathed a deep cleansing breath and drew in her scent as he tightened his arms around her hips. No one smelled like Sol, felt like her or sounded like her. Springtime. He had missed the captain so much. The vids paled in comparison to the real thing. Since Gabriel had come into his powers at puberty, he had never had this experience, had never allowed this closeness. He could have cried at the sweetness of it, but his tears had died a hard death long ago. An empath, especially a child with empathic abilities, could only cry so often before the useless grief killed him.

  Her hand touched his bare shoulder. It trembled but gave such warmth. As if from a great distance, Gabe heard her ask, “Are you all right, Gabriel?” Real concern reflected in her voice and in her sudden, easily read emotions. They seemed so attuned to each other.

  "Yeah.” Gabe curved himself tighter around her hips. Without conscious thought, he pulled her closer in his arms. His needy desire for her overwhelmed him. Sol felt like a shelter from all of his storms, but her loose, silky gown hindered his efforts to lose himself in her heat. Gabe pulled the front apart with a rip to the fabric. Without stopping, he mumbled an apology and laid his head on her bare, rounded abdomen. “I'm all right. I'm fine, just a little worn out from chasing you, Captain. Gods, I still can't believe you're here—in the flesh, so to speak.” He rubbed his hot cheek against her stomach, nuzzled his lips across her skin. She shivered.

  "Well, I am here, Gabriel. Believe it.” She bent to him, placed her palms along his jaws and raised his mouth for a quick kiss. She whispered against his lips, “You don't have to chase me anymore, Commander. I'm really here."

  "For how long?” Gabe growled as he rose to her and claimed her lips again without giving her a chance to answer. No teasing this time. He cupped a hand behind Sol's head and prevented her from moving back. They held the kiss for so long that when they pulled apart, Gabe didn't know who was more shaken by the intensity. The look in her eyes was dazed, shattered gold. He wondered if his eyes looked the same. He certainly felt unfocused, breathless. Sol caught a heaving breath. Gabe enjoyed the push of her breasts against his chest.

  "I'll be here at least until morning.” Sol's gaze dropped first, and she straightened her back, moving her too far away for Gabe's liking.

  "Then where will you be?” He gripped her upper arms and tugged her all the way to his chest. He craved her skin's touch. She felt warm and soft in all the right places. They lay back on the bed with their lips a mere fraction apart. Gabe drew in her breath. Her heavy breasts strained against the gaping silk, and he swallowed a groan at the sight of the points of dark nipples showing through the thin fabric.

  The captain's desire slammed through her thoughts and into him. Her arousal mixed with his raging needs and clouded his thinking. That husky voice of hers finally broke through the sexual fog that threatened him. Sol's logic was like a douse of cold water.

  "You know that what we have won't last, Commander. We come from two different worlds. A peacemaking diplomat and a warring space captain—how ludicrous can you get?"

  "Bullshit.” Gabe thrust her away only for a moment before snuggling her back to his chest, his legs thrown over her thighs, careful of the mound of her middle. “What makes you think we're not suited?” He kissed the hollow indent in her throat. Go slow—slow, he warned himself. A rapid pulse beat under his tongue. Her scent surrounded him again, filled his nose, his head with her strength. He felt her trembling
or was it his?

  "Really, Gabriel, think about it. You come in after a crew like mine has risked their lives, some losing their lives, and you make nice-nice with the same people who have killed us. You make concessions with the bastards, bowing and scraping, all in the name of peace. I don't get it. It's as if our loss of life means nothing to anyone.” She drew away from him, turned a cold shoulder to him, but didn't get up. Yet, she was still too far away.

  Gabe smothered a disappointed sigh before he leaned forward on one elbow next to her, so close he could still smell her subtle perfume, enticingly clean, not the heavy spice scent he'd expected after her last vid. He took his time answering. Somehow he knew that their entire future depended on his response. In his mind, he heard his mother's last words. "Hate and violence is not the way of a wise man. Learn, grow and bring peace, my son." Her words had haunted Gabriel all his life—as did her violent death. He had to make Sol understand his life's work—his atonement for his violent past.

  "You don't see the urgent need for peace, Sol?” She turned back to him and he hurried on before she could answer. “Yes, you're right. I do go in after you or other military have finished a battle, when the region is still hot with the bloody stench of the dead and the cries of the dying. That very thing drives me to make peace. Any loss of life affects me. Useless grief chokes every breath I take. In the aftermath of war, I see firsthand, the innocent—the children, the wives, the loved ones left behind without fathers, brothers, sisters and mothers. I feel the need for peace in the very marrow of my bones. And, yes...” He nodded again, looking deep into Sol's eyes. He reached out and gripped her by the shoulders. Despite his control, his voice cracked and broke. He nearly growled, “I do make concessions. I would sell my very soul to stop the wars and bring peace. I do whatever the job takes, and sometimes it works.” He drew her down next to him and sighed, deeply. “Sometimes it doesn't."

  Gabe really didn't mean for Sol to hear his next murmured thought. “And sometimes, I wish to all gods’ hell that I had never heard of the Diplomatic Corps.” Past failures haunted him with taunting remembrances. Ghosts of victims he had been unable to save remained as vivid reminders of his weaknesses. An empath's talent is at best a curse.

  "Then why do you do it?” Her soft question was followed by a light-fingered caress on his chest. She wasn't afraid to touch him. Her honest concern lay open to Gabe. The captain had listened to him, more importantly she had heard him. His skin tingled under the path of her trembling fingers. Chills followed her touch all the way to his groin. His balls swelled, tightened. His cock lengthened until it hurt. This was better than any dream.

  "It's my job. It's what I do—who I am. Who will do it if I don't?” The need for her to understand and agree with him overcame Gabe in soul-shattering waves. “Without diplomats, without peacemakers, Captain, where will it all end? With the death of us all?” Anguish was awash in his words.

  "Oh, my god!” Comprehension dawned in Sol's widened eyes. He felt the exact moment that truth struck her and hid his wince. She traced the tattoos on his side and up his arm, stared at them so hard her eyes bugged. “You're a Guild registered empath, aren't you? I—I saw the tats that night on the Pleasure Dome, but their meaning didn't register in my mind.” She smacked the heel of one hand to her forehead. Gabe refused to look her in the eye, afraid he'd read pity there, even if he didn't hear any in her voice.

  "How stupid of me.” A pink flush crept up her neck and flooded her cheeks. “Oh, Commander, I don't think we're suited at all.” Sol rose to his position, her elbow supporting her head and her face level with his. Her gaze lowered, and she visually traced his tattoos again through lash-shadowed eyes.

  Gabe noted a small scar on the side of her temple, a battle scar no doubt. This close he could see the soft hair surrounding her face. He wished for a lifetime to memorize every line, every curve and every mark on her body. He longed to kiss each one and smooth any remembrance of hurt away. “If we are so doomed as lovers, Captain, why did you come here tonight?” Gabriel's breathing became a hurtful thing that lodged in his tight chest. He feared her answer.

  She pushed up, but came no closer to him. “I couldn't stand to see you hurting and know that I am the cause.” Her gaze dropped down to the bed. “I didn't know about your empathic ability. I didn't know that you felt everything we shared so deeply. I shouldn't have sent those messages. I wasn't thinking straight, and—” Sol raised one brow and looked him in the eye again, sincerity shown in the golden warm depths of her gaze even if he couldn't read her emotions. “Perhaps, I took bad advice. Believe me, Gabriel, I didn't mean to hurt you."

  He relished the sound of his name on her lips. She couldn't know what that closeness meant to him. He had to go slowly with her or he would scare her with the depth of his caring. He kept his tone even and light. “I know, Captain. But you did hurt me, so what are you going to do about it?” Gabe held his breath, living in the moment. He couldn't tell the captain that he knew she was a tranq. She would think that was the only reason he wanted her and that would spoil the mood. Besides, she acted as if she didn't know. The fact was, Sol was here and she wanted him. Despite her being a tranq, Gabriel felt her intense need crying out to him. The scent of her arousal still wafted thick in the air. He breathed her in. He'd worry about tomorrow later. She took her cue from him. Her voice was just as teasing, although her tone grew husky, just like in her vids to him.

  "You don't have to hurt anymore. I can kiss it and make it better.” Faint tugging lifted the corner of her sweet mouth. She rubbed her hand over the tent that rose in his shorts. Gabe froze in place, raised on his elbows. With no assistance from him, the captain found the slit in the front of his shorts and smoothed the fabric down over his jutting cock. She stared at him. He lengthened further under her gaze.

  Gabe gritted his teeth at the pull of his balls. Damn it. Just being with Sol was bad enough, but having her touch him after all this time and then eye him so hungrily just about pushed him over the edge. Remembered images of her from the vids swamped him. The captain had danced for him, enticed him with her eyes, her body. Now she touched him in reality. He couldn't remember ever being this close to ejaculating and denying the urge. But if he came, she might leave, and that action he wanted to delay for as long as possible.

  Help me, please, Gabe prayed to the stars and tried to ignore the light fingertip caress she gave to his cock's rounded head. Then ... oh gods ... she leaned over ... her soft lips closed on him.

  He wanted to scream but could only groan. Wet heat surrounded him. Her silken tongue caressed. She licked up his entire length, and Gabe felt the sensation inside and out. His head fell back, but he remained upright on his elbows, his hands clutching the bedclothes in his fists. But he had to see this, memorize her loving him like this so he looked back down and watched her through narrowed eyes. Exquisite torture continued. The captain slid her tongue around him with the velvet touch of a master seducer ... around and around then up and down. To know that she wanted to do this, that it excited her, warred with the extreme pleasure her touch brought him. After excruciating moments of more blissful agony, Sol pulled up, sucking, licking, only to begin again. Massive shudders shook Gabe. He swallowed hard.

  "Stop it. Oh, gods—” He grabbed the captain's shoulders, bringing her up to his face. He kissed her temple, nuzzled her hair then slid his lips down the length of her throat. “If you don't stop touching me, Sol, I swear, I'll come. Our pleasure will be over far too soon."

  "You mean to tell me that you're only good for once a night, Gabriel?” She laughed, the throaty sound washing over him with pleasure almost as intense as her touch. He loved to hear her speak his name with such sexual intent. “I seem to remember things being different a few months ago under the Pleasure Dome."

  "Damn you,” he sputtered. “Of course I'm good for more than once a night ... for all night, if you can take it in your condition."

  Sol paused and lifted an eyebrow. “My condition isn'
t a problem for me, Commander. Is it for you?” She hurried on, her voice breathy. She was moving her hands again, trembling over his skin. “I've heard that some men don't like pregnant women. They're afraid of them or something."

  "I'm not afraid of you. I'm ... enchanted with you.” Gabe felt the heat that crept up the back of his neck from his spine. He wasn't thinking clearly, almost slipped there and confessed that he loved her. He hid the surprise of that admission to himself. He would analyze it later. “Besides, this is mine, too.” He placed his hand gently over her swollen abdomen. He rubbed a circle in an unconscious caress. A sudden kick came against his palm.

  By the holy stars! Gabe lost his smile. He pressed his hand more firmly against her flesh and reached for that mental connection again, felt infinite love for him flow up his arm. His heart strangled on the response. By the stars, his son was an empath!

  "Oh, good gods—he—he moved,” Gabe breathed. He dared not tell Sol that their child was like him, imperfect, burdened with a gift that she might not appreciate.

  "Yes, he does that quite frequently.” Sol smiled gently, first at her stomach then at him. Her indulgent smile was such that Gabe was further lost in the beauty of the gesture, such awesome strength hiding such tenderness. He didn't know which affected him the most, his son or Sol. Gabe wandered in sensory overload. His son was an empath; he had touched Gabe with such love, such understanding for one so young.

  For a moment, Gabe couldn't swallow. Words wouldn't form on his tongue. He laid his head against the silk covering Sol's lap, but the baby didn't move, didn't connect again. Lost in thoughts of possibilities, Gabriel kissed Sol's belly and wrapped his arms loosely around her hips. Her whiskey-heated eyes glowed down at him. Honest need reflected there in the golden depths and in her thoughts.