ThunderClaw: Science Fiction Romance (Alien Warrior Book 2)

Home > Science > ThunderClaw: Science Fiction Romance (Alien Warrior Book 2) > Page 23
ThunderClaw: Science Fiction Romance (Alien Warrior Book 2) Page 23

by Penelope Fletcher


  Each fallen lock was a leap of freedom.

  Finished, She, Deathly as She Goes’ clawed hand settled on my shoulder.

  Lumen, my friend, gripped the other. ‘Alright?’

  ‘No quite.’ I looked at the reflection in the mirrored surface of the jug. The woman looking back smiled. ‘I’m getting there.’

  Chapter 18

  Glorying in the ache of his body, sated from the night’s passion, Éorik pressed kisses to the length of Sìne’s spine. His tongue caressed her salty flesh. He rumbled in arousal.

  She smiled in her sleep, fiery cap of hair damp with sweat.

  Finding him in his quarters, she’d been bold and frightened, eyes flashing when she commanded him to bed her.

  As if he’d send her away.

  He fingered a silken curl, chuckles vibrating his throat.

  Silly, beloved Earthling.

  He slipped from her room, using the earliest blush of dawn to hide egress. He’d taken not a full step when his loose-hipped stride faltered.

  She, Lumen of the Stars and He, Fiercely Comes the Night meandered down the corridor. Lumen stopped. Her expression fell from humour to shock. Her gaze raked over his unbuttoned sark, the strands of his silver-white mane tangled about his back and chest, bearing evidence of a lusty grip.

  Accusing eyes flicked to the haze then shot to his.

  Inhaling, he smelt the musk of his liege’s One coating his skin. Felt the cream that had flooded her cunt drying on his staff. The back of his neck heated as he set his jaw and gazed back.

  Nuzzling his fretting son, the surly Rä failed to recognise anything amiss. That was until his mate elbowed him in the side. ‘What did I do now?’

  ‘Nothing, sweetheart. Take our hatchling back to the nest. I need to speak to Éorik. Enjoy first meal, and don’t let Brave overeat. Tell Venom to stay put until I get back, please. I promise I won’t be long.’

  Fiercely’s forked tongue flickered. ‘I am to order the primary mate?’ He sounded thrilled at the notion.

  ‘He’ll want to track me down. I’m perfectly safe.’

  Sensing all was not well, Fiercely appeared ready to argue, but at a discreet shake of his mate’s head, he gave a reluctant nod.

  Obsidian brille speared Éorik with a warning, a glare promising dismemberment should harm befall her.

  Lumen waited until her mate moved out of sight before turning. She snagged his arm. ‘Walk with me.’

  Éorik had no desire to hear a lecture. He needed to cleanse. Rutting was sticky. ‘I must decline.’

  ‘It wasn’t a suggestion. Walk.’

  This female saved the people he loved best in the universe from death. She had liberated something inside Sìne the rotation before. His lover held her head higher, seemed more settled.

  Paying his dues, he walked.

  ‘She hasn’t bedded Wyn yet.’

  ‘And?’ he asked.

  She made a frustrated noise. ‘What you’re doing is dangerous. I thought you and her would be a one time thing. It’s not. He is not going to react well.’

  Éorik stiffened, stride hitching.

  Indignation flared across his closed expression. If she was going to be blunt, so would he. ‘This is not your business.’

  ‘You are absolutely right, but I’m saying it anyway because I like her and I adore you. I’m saying it because someone has to.’ The soft pat to his bicep was at odds with her hard tone. ‘You’re letting a lower part of your anatomy make the decisions. Wyn is going to lose his shit when he finds out you’re crawling into bed with the only woman he’s ever truly wanted.’

  Annoyed, he snapped his next words with little of the respect he held for her. ‘You think you know him better than I? You do not. Owyn may be infatuated with my human, but such a thing has happened before. Do you think she will stop him visiting his harem?’ Unspoken was his insinuation the visits would continue unimpeded.

  ‘Yes.’ She shot him an arch look. ‘Get as uppity as you like. You do too.’

  His stride again faltered.

  Éorik turned to her, aggravated. He recognised her words as truth.

  ‘I made a point of getting to know her. She’s strong. A little lost right now, but that’s understandable. This life can be overwhelming. She’ll make it clear she won’t put up with him sticking his dick in anything that moves long before he does of his own accord, but yes, eventually, he will stop. Who are you trying to fool? I know the importance of a One to a Verak. Once spoken, it can’t be taken back, and you dare call her yours?’ Eyes briefly closing, Lumen took hold of his hand. ‘I’ve seen the way he looks at her. If I hadn’t watched him lay his heart at her feet hearing the way he talks about her would be enough.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘I’ve also seen the way she looks at him. I’m not saying she doesn’t want you or care about you. I’m saying she’s not your One.’

  Pain lanced his chest. ‘No.’ Even Lumen saw the chains of his unrequited love, saw a future where their happiness came at the expense of his heartbreak. He would remain their faithful servant, watching their lives from an umbra of his own making. ‘No, she is not.’

  ‘End it now. They’ll figure out how to be together. They’re falling in love. Everyone else will fall by the wayside when they give into it. Concubines can be bought off. But you? I don’t want….’ She struggled for words. ‘I care about you. I don’t want to see you hurt when all you’ve ever done is protect him.’

  ‘I have known for many solars what I can and cannot have.’ His voice was gruff. ‘You need not tell me what I already know.’

  Relief brightened her eyes. ‘You’ll end it?’

  ‘I will not give up what little they have to give.’

  ‘That’s no way to live. I want more for you. So do they. This will hurt them, too, in the end.’

  ‘You will tell him what you have seen?’ She’d said her piece and out of respect, he’d listened. His life was his own. ‘I would rather he hear of my lover from me.’

  ‘Wyn is a big boy. If he asks, I won’t lie. I’m not going to run and tell on you, if that’s what you’re insinuating.’

  ‘You are his friend.’

  She glared, exasperated. ‘I’m yours, too, you know?’

  Grudgingly, he let the warmth of that settle his battered heart.

  ‘If you won’t end it,’ she pushed, ‘the three of you must talk.’

  He was done discussing it. That did not mean her advice was ignored. ‘May I escort my friend to her mates?’

  Sighing, she hooked her arm in the bend of his. She leant into his side and rest her head on his arm.

  After seeing Lumen to her rooms, Éorik returned to his quarters, what the Rä called an enclosure. He rushed his cleansing then went to find his liege.

  Beowyn had rented apartments on Paniki’s surface instead of remaining onboard the cramped Rä spacecraft while docked.

  Éorik tensed at the twittering drifting from Beowyn’s rooms as he approached.

  Stilling at the entrance, his thoughts arrowed to Sìne, her green eyes clouded with uncertainty as she considered her King with another.

  Breath quick and shallow, his gut clenched. His footfalls thumped a short and snappy beat as he entered the luxurious apartment, throwing open the ornate doors with a wide-armed, spread-legged flourish.

  His gaze narrowed.

  Scantily clad a Paniki native from the pleasure station worked her trade. Worked it well. She knelt between cocked legs, head bobbing as her hand worked between her sun-coloured thighs. She lifted dripping fingers to parted lips, trilling encouragement when Beowyn, eager, suckled.

  Baxnonians seeped fizzy sexual juices sweet as fruit. Their ejaculations gave the receiver nerve-shredding orgasms once absorbed. They were a great favourite of the Verak, the juiciest slits coveted and fanatically sought after for inclusion within a harem.

  While Éorik customarily partook in the species’ many delights alongside his liege, on this occasion, he barely managed to breathe through
his anger.

  He bent, hooked her around the waist then plucked her off.

  The whore’s puckered mouth left Beowyn’s cock with a wet pop. She blinked languidly then smiled, stubby teeth obscured by a sweep of prehensile tongues. ‘Your turn?’

  Eyelids now so low, his eyes resembled gold slashes, Éorik’s face lowered. It hovered an inch from her wide, exotic one. Tact deserted him. His voice came out a gritty snarl. ‘Get out.’

  Spiny protrusions cresting her scalp flushed bright orange in a panic display. Her tail coiled at the base of her spine, just above a pert, twitching bottom.

  She hit the ground running.

  Pleasure workers were prepaid, and with his warning echoing around the room, she was halfway out the building when the doors slammed behind her.

  Head twisting back to Beowyn, Éorik squared his shoulders, prepared to explain his behaviour.

  Beowyn glowered into the distance. He snatched a flagon from the food laden shelf at his side to quaff deep.

  Wanting to dissipate the bad air, Éorik backed down. He made his demeanour submissive in an open apology for over stepping his bounds. ‘Sire, I beg forgiveness.’

  Beowyn waved him off. ‘I lied to you.’

  Taken aback, Éorik shifted. ‘When?’

  ‘Lumen and I had no business to discuss on the pleasure station. I bumped into her. I was embarrassed my One did not wish to attend me, and I did not want your pity. Sìne spent the night alone rather than with me.’

  Rubbing the space above his heart, Éorik said nothing. Sìne’s secrets were not his to tell, but he feared his silence was provoked by guilt.

  ‘I wish her to love me in her human way, and to need me in my Verak one.’ Beowyn’s head rolled back on his shoulders until he contemplated the ceiling. ‘I do not know what to do.’ He chuckled darkly. ‘Imagine that, my Orik. I do not know what to do.’

  Éorik opened his mouth to speak, to tell the truth. The air turned solid in his lungs, stealing his breath and stifling his resolve. He was afraid. Sìne was more than a body to slake his hunger upon.

  As his seed cooled between them the night before, he’d felt peace. There was no shame he could not settle on a true mate because he was obsessed with his King, no embarrassment that when he plunged into the warmth of another, it was Beowyn’s name on his lips.

  For the first time, he bedded a female, and he was with her each thrilling moment. Each touch from her hand felt like being reborn.

  Éorik desired Beowyn still. He had wanted the male so long, the emotion was part of him, a phantom limb of which its cleaving he’d never survive.

  After spending the night with Sìne, his burden felt lighter. He didn’t know if he should feel relief that she too wanted Beowyn, or dread. The feelings she aroused within him were frighteningly similar to the ones he’d felt during the shedding of his adolescence. When he realised what he felt for Beowyn went beyond the ties of brotherhood, and the token affection one male felt for another.

  Éorik let his gaze roam Beowyn’s features. He imagined sliding his cock between the alpha’s firm lips. That strong throat would flex around his shaft as it fed on thick pulses of his spend. Beowyn’s shorn hair fell only to his waist, but it was thick enough, soft enough to wrap around a fist as he was thrust into from behind. Éorik shivered. Everything about the male attracted him. From the loose-hipped swagger Beowyn developed after bedding his first concubine, to the way he ran a hand through his hair when stressed at political scuffles. The way his metal eyes turned liquid when aroused by a lover and wanting them. Booming laughter that rolled from him during his adventures was at the same time deep and light, heart and soul pouring into his boisterous expressions of joy.

  From the time before he knew himself, Éorik had known he was meant to be the male’s protector, his port in a storm, his first and last line of defence.

  He’d also known Beowyn’s destined One was another.

  That female had come.

  Éorik felt sick.

  Not only was Sìne who Beowyn looked to to ease his longings, the human female and her endearing cub were the best thing that could happen to the carefree ruler.

  Tensing, Éorik watched as Beowyn tugged on his cock, wet from the pleasure worker’s ministrations.

  Sighing, he let the thick length go.

  It lay in a tempting curve over his heavy sac.

  ‘As you selfishly ran off my good morning,’ he muttered, ‘give me time to dress. I will accompany you to the shuttle bay. I try again with Sìne.’

  ‘Selfishly,’ Éorik echoed.

  They had rutted side by side since their coming of age. He had seen Beowyn naked more times than there were rotations in an aeon.

  For solars, he’d guided this male, protected him, bled for him and even fucked, as Sìne would say, on command for him. He’d given everything and received so little in return the knowledge he would never have him overrode the endless rules of honour and decorum drilled into him as a cub.

  In that fractured, wrathful moment of unrequited love and painful desire, Éorik was powerless to stop himself.

  Breaching the unspoken personal space he’d been wary and respectful of since he’d taken up his post as Royal Defender, Éorik stepped between Beowyn’s legs and dropped to his knees.

  Each muscle in the Great One’s body grew taut. A flash of something dark scuttled behind his hooded eyes.

  Running rough palms up rangy thighs, Éorik leant over to tongue the organ he’d been half delirious over near all his life. Rich and musky, the sharp scent of arousal invaded his nose.

  He wasn’t shoved away. The cock he licked throbbed.

  He could have this, savour this.

  A whisper of sound escaped Beowyn’s lips. It was followed by a drawn out moan, and a clenching of brawny thigh when Éorik bobbed again, and again until the shaft he laved pulsed beneath his lips.

  Salty flavour exploded across his tongue.

  Groaning, he sucked the flared head into his mouth.

  Part of him arrested in shock. He’d dreamed of this, wished for it in the lonely dark as he listened to the object of his desires bedding everything in reach but him. For a horrid moment, he feared he would wake alone in his bed, aching, before turning to one of his harem to ease the endless pressure.

  Beowyn’s hips rocked, his harsh breathing breaking the trance.

  Éorik’s mind seized on the heaviness weighting down his tongue. The girth stretching his mouth and straining his jaw was very, very real.

  Heat razed a path through his groin.

  Tonguing the starred slits weeping thick cream, he swallowed more of the rigid flesh until he felt the swelling crown bump the back of his throat.

  Beowyn’s hand landed on the back of his head with a grunt. He curled up and cried out when Éorik pulled back then sucked him far enough he gagged. ‘Lah, Orik. Take me deep.’

  Éorik swallowed, throat muscles working to coax forth bittersweet fluid, relishing the earthy flavour.

  The horrible ache in his balls grew unbearable. He shoved a hand into his taws to grip his shaft. He squeezed then released it to push down the front of his leathers. His member sprang free. He palmed himself in quick, rough strokes. Tingles gathered at the base of his spine, and his buttocks clenched.

  Heavy palms cradled his head. Claws pricked his scalp and temples.

  Cheeks hollowing on the next greedy pull, his eyeballs rolled up. Fine hair covering his nape ruffled, and heat spilled into his cheeks in tandem with the fire filling his swelling staff.

  Beowyn’s eyes twitched from Éorik’s lips to his fist working in furious jerks between his legs. Broad nostrils flared. Beowyn slid his cock out of the mouth cradling it then thrust deep inside, greedily riding it.

  Éorik knew his skin was ruddy with need. His eyes raked over the same lust ravaging Beowyn’s face.

  Musky taste and peppery smell combined with the sound of hoarse breathing and leather squeaking. It served as a heady mix of primitive sens
ations that felt filthy and rude.

  The taboo of being intimate with his charge made each moment sharper.

  Éorik etched each throaty growl, hip gyration and shaky gasp not only into memory, but onto his very soul.

  Increasing suction, he quickened his movements. His free hand kneaded the thigh flexing next to his head.

  Shaking fingers pushed on his shoulder.

  Éorik groaned. He wanted Beowyn to peak. Wanted to feel him quake, and roar, and shoot so deep and strong, his throat would ever feel the force of it.

  Pulling back, he shifted onto his knees and growled, ‘Owyn,’ his voice scratched from suckling.

  Beowyn grabbed his hair and yanked him up. He brought their bodies crashing together. He pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to Éorik’s throat. An impatient hand shoved at his leathers. They puddled around his ankles, exposing his sac to the cool air.

  ‘Grip me.’ Beowyn’s calloused palm clamped on Éorik’s erection, thumb sweeping over its swollen head. ‘Hurry.’ His words were snarls that sent shivers across trembling flesh. ‘I need.’

  Taking orders during play was not something Éorik did. He preferred control during his encounters because he disliked the idea of his lover falling out of the moment, only to realise he rutted with them as a placeholder.

  Right then the focal point of the debased fantasies he’d entertained in the darkest corners of his mind jerked his cock and demanded pleasure.

  Éorik did as he was told.

  Burying their faces in each other’s shoulders, they clutched at whatever flesh they could. Mouths, tongues and fangs kissed, licked and bit whatever skin they could reach. A jawline, a racing pulse, a pierced ear tip.

  Beowyn forced him against the wall.

  Baring his teeth, Éorik hooked a leg over his hip to tie them together.

  They ground their hips and worked the hardness caught in their fists.

  Éorik’s vision wavered and went dark. Ecstasy leaked through the white-hot agony of the pressure growing in his gut, spreading in fiery streaks between his ass, sac and rod. It surged to the tip of his engorged staff and his hips lost their steady thrust. He hammered into the steely grip stroking hard.

 

‹ Prev