Courting Kel

by Dee Brice

  “Aren.”

  “Tell me something, Flame. When may I court you again?”

  Wretched mind-reading man! Groaning, she said, “T-tomorrow.”

  He said nothing. And yet she felt him smile.

  * * * * *

  Standing in Storr’s throne room, hundreds of men surrounded her. Kel reached for her dagger but couldn’t find it. Invaders, she thought, knowing they would rape her before putting her to death.

  It had to happen sooner or later. Death was a familiar companion to Amazonian women. Kel just hadn’t expected it to visit her so soon. And where in this horde of men was Aren?

  Risking a glance at the man nearest her, she shrank back. Each man wore Aren’s face, but their bodies were not his. Their cocks looked like his but weren’t. By the gods, Aren had abandoned her! Given her to this mass of men because she had refused to acknowledge their marriage.

  This is what happened when men ruled. Women had no choice. They took men’s punishments, survived or died according to men’s wishes.

  “We only want to love you, Keleos,” the men chanted, stroking their cocks as they circled her, coming closer and closer.

  She backed away but bumped against yet another man with Aren’s face and cock. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears, drowning out all other sounds—even her screams.

  And yet the men seemed to hear her whisper, “Leave me alone! I am a married woman!”

  Kel woke from the nightmare drenched in cold sweat and stinking of fear. Her entire body shook. Her muscles ached as if she’d run a thousand miles only to return to the same place—Storr’s palace—and the same danger.

  Recognizing her room in Aren’s country lodge eased her fear somewhat. Her muscles protesting, Kel crept from the bed. She desperately needed to bathe the fear off her skin. When she was clean and composed she would find Aren and demand they returned to Storr City. Once there she would find a way to escape him. A way to escape her dreams. Making her bed, she discovered the cloth from last night. Her sleep had been far from pleasant, and she vowed not to put the cloth under her pillow again, then she went to search for Aren.

  He wasn’t in his sleep room. Nor was he in the cook room where he’d left out bread and butter. The bitter brew he called feefac sent up wisps of steam from the cup he’d left on the table. So, wherever he was, he’d left only a short time ago.

  Too anxious to eat, she strode outside. Calling his name, hearing him call hers, she took a gravel path to her right then followed the sound of his voice. She realized the plants were different here, thicker and steamy from the humidity. That sticky heat reminded her of parts of Amazonia but the foliage here seemed very different.

  Bushes the size of Peg’s wings dwarfed those with fronds as delicate as lace. Bird-shaped flowers of blue and orange rose on slender stalks too high above her head to smell. Small drops of water dripped from the canopy of leaves even higher up. Oddly, none fell on her as she continued down the narrowing path.

  “Aren,” she shouted.

  “Keep coming,” he shouted back.

  Pushing through a tangle of bright green vines, she found Aren standing in a small clearing. A glass enclosure filled with flowers was behind him. The scent of petegboa tickled her nose and she sneezed.

  “Stay there,” he commanded.

  Startled, she obeyed. Was there some unseen creature slithering along the ground between them? Did Ondrican shelter some strange mutation of graackocrto that lived in trees? She glanced up but could only see various shades of green. Maybe on Ondrican, graackocrtos were some greenish tone so they could hide more effectively in their environment. Her skin grew clammy, inviting an attack of swarming skeetmosques. Even knowing Ondrican had eliminated the beasties couldn’t keep her from imagining them attacking her and rushing to Aren’s side. Striving for an air of nonchalance, she slipped her arm around his waist.

  “Feeling horny this morning, Flame?” When she stepped back he held out a thimble-sized orb that projected an image of her standing in the midst of myriad greens.

  “What is that?”

  “A hologram. A picture of you.” She frowned at it then at him. “A portrait,” Aren added.

  “Oh! Like the painting of Storr in his throne room.”

  “Yes.”

  She poked the orb and watched the image waver. “Did I hurt it?”

  “No.” Aren laughed. “It is almost the same as running your fingers through water. You make a ripple but the water is unharmed.”

  “How did you make this hologram? Why did you?”

  For a long moment Aren simply stared at her. She felt as if he was trying to memorize her features. But why, when she stood within his reach? Did he mean to send her away?

  Once again she felt as if a fist tightened around her heart. Make up your mind, Kel. Either you want him or you want to go home.

  “I am hybridizing a flower. The hologram will remind me of the wondrous shades of red in your hair. The creams in your skin. The changing colors in your eyes.”

  “I’m right here, Aren,” she said, watching his dark eyes lightened.

  “So you are.” Taking her hand, he led her inside the glass shelter.

  While the humidity remained high, the air felt cooler inside the structure. Kel looked around for fans but found none. One day Aren would show her all the technical wonders of his homeworld. She pushed aside the niggling thought he would send her home before he revealed his world’s secrets.

  “What are these?” She leaned over a shelf of fragrant blossoms that resembled his garden seros. But these delicate petals with a spicy scent felt waxy.

  “They are called chiordseross, a hybrid of seros and chiords. Do you like them?”

  “They are…breathtaking.”

  “Look around, Flame. Do you like the seros or caills better?”

  “Why does it matter which I prefer?”

  “Because the flower I’m creating is for you. I’ll call it Flame.”

  She couldn’t breathe, the tenderness in his eyes touched her heart so deeply. “Oh. That’s… Your description was so poetic I thought you meant the flower.”

  “I did. I also described you.”

  “Oh,” she said again, uncomfortable with the emotions his words evoked. You never told me about this…wondrous gift. That you can create something so beautifully different yet the same. So comfortably familiar as the flowers in your gardens. “I’ll leave you to your work. See you later.”

  “No. I promised you an outing and we’ll have one. Besides, I want to show you something.”

  The twinkle in his eyes made her suspicious. Knowing he expected her to demand to know what that something was, she said, “All right. But only if you have time today. If you would rather work—”

  “I’d rather be with you, Flame.”

  He stood so close she felt as if his soul surrounded her. His arms were at his sides and yet…that feeling of being held was so overwhelming she had to step away. She couldn’t move.

  “Release your spell, Aren.”

  “Release yours.” Grinning, he laced his fingers through hers. That simple contact freed her to move.

  “Come on. The plant I want you to see grows near the house.”

  He led her up a path they had not traveled before. When he stopped she looked around and saw nothing very unusual. The air still smelled like a boa. It still dripped with humidity. All the plants retained their green colors. The plant he seemed intent on had notched leaves of large proportion not so very different from other plants. It did differ in one aspect however. From its base several pods protruded. They seemed like enormous green bananas. Aren tugged her a step closer then pointed down at a pod that had opened, revealing a thick white…

  “Penis?” Kel managed.

  “It is called the penis plant,” Aren said, laughter in his voice. “Tomorrow the pod will close. In a week or two it will fall off, its penis having ripened to kernels that taste like fruits and grains.”

  Kel laughed. “Everything
on Ondrican revolves around two things. Food and sex.”

  “What else is there?” he asked as he led her away.

  With her stomach growling for breakfast and her body yearning for Aren, Kel wisely said nothing.

  * * * * *

  Later That Day

  When he led his unsaddled horse out of the barn, Aren watched Kel’s face. As he had hoped, her eyes swirled with strands of stormy gray. Her creamy skin showed hints of red, especially on her high cheekbones and what he could see of her breasts above her sarong.

  Ripe, he thought, feeling his shaft stiffen. And she had taken some care with her appearance. Ringlets framed her face and drooped around her ears. A mass of red-gold curls fell over her shoulders and down her back. Her sarong hugged her curves as he intended to hug her when they reached the waterfall.

  He had learned a little more about his wife when she visited the greenhouse. The fact that he was hybridizing a flower for her pleased her. He saw it in her soft gray eyes. In the way her cheeks reddened and her lips formed an O. And when he said he’d rather be with her, her smile had brightened until she glowed. Gifts that had cost him nothing more than a little time.

  Courting Kel had taken on a whole new meaning.

  “I don’t know where my mind went,” she was saying when he refocused on her face. “I’ll change.”

  “You’re fine just as you are.” He led his horse to a block then mounted. “Come.”

  He positioned her with both her legs on his horse’s left side.

  “Yesterday I wrote astride,” she said, her gaze on his face.

  Suspecting she felt off balance, Aren wreathed his arms around her waist. “Yesterday you wore a gown Jocelyn wove. I knew your riding astride wouldn’t harm it.”

  “Oh.”

  Clicking, he set the horse in motion at a gentle walk. Since Kel seemed disinclined to talk, he kept silent. When they reached the path to the waterfall, Aren slid down, Kel in his arms. He put her on her feet.

  She looked up at him, confusion evident in the swirling kaleidoscope in her eyes. Fingering a ringlet at her ear, he kissed the tip of her nose. He thought he knew what caused her confusion. Part of him wanted to reassure her that he would do nothing she didn’t want. A less noble part of him knew he would take whatever advantage he could win from her. Her desire was his best weapon.

  Feathering his fingertips down her arm, he linked their hands. Shivering, her eyes darkened. He kept his face impassive, but congratulated himself on predicting her vulnerability.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked as he led her through knee-high grasses with the scent of new-mown wheat.

  “I think so. In truth, you feed me so well, I no longer recognize real hunger. Eating has become habit, not need.”

  “I hate the idea of your going hungry.”

  She shrugged. “Food is fuel, nothing more. If it tastes good, it’s a feast. If it tastes awful, we eat it anyway.”

  “What proteins are available on Amazonia?”

  “We raise sheep. When ewes no longer lamb or the lamb dies… We fish. Raise fowl of all kinds. We don’t lack foodstuffs, Aren, but the skills to make them tasty. I wish…”

  “What? That Caton would immigrate to Amazonia? Jocelyn would never permit it. And he values his shaft and balls too much to go, especially to a planet where fucking is more important than food.”

  Kel chuckled. “Can’t blame him. Perhaps we could trade books with instructions on how to cook for…” She shrugged again. “I’m certain Basalia can suggest something fitting to exchange.”

  Kel halted so suddenly her hand slipped from Aren’s. Wondering what she saw, he stepped behind her. “What?”

  “Everything here is so beautiful.”

  He looked around and recalled how awestruck he’d felt the first time his mother brought him here. He heard the waterfall first, surprised Kel had not heard it too. He could only hope her thoughts had centered on him but doubted they had. She had an ability to focus on one thing, closing out everything else. Most likely her thoughts were on cookbooks rather than on their surroundings. Or on him.

  Now he tried to see this place through Kel’s eyes. Tree ferns grew a few yards beyond the opposite riverbank and continued up the side of the mountains. Some wore gray-green fronds, others leaves of bright green. Others still were the color of the sun, a bright yellow so intense it hurt to look at them for long. At the top of the nearest mountain, it seemed as if the granite boulders had tumbled from their foundations to crash into the pool below. Where the water fell into the pool, it roiled but quickly calmed as it spread. Aren knew the water was cool but not uncomfortable.

  “Would you like to swim?” he asked, inhaling the scent of caills wafting from her hair and skin.

  She looked over her shoulder, her eyes questioning his sincerity. “Our…” She hitched a deep breath, drawing his attention to her breasts and pearling nipples. “Our clothes.”

  “We’ve been together naked, Flame,” he reminded her, untying the knot between her breasts. He released the fabric to slide down her body.

  “It’s unfair, Aren, that my clothes are so easily removed and yours are not.”

  “Duly noted. Next time I’ll wear nothing at all.” Turning her to face him, he said, “Hide in the water if you must. I’ll join you soon and we’ll play.”

  She spun away, seemed to assess the water’s depth then dove in. When she surfaced, her fiery hair floated around her like a lion’s mane. Her grin made him feel as though he’d given her a priceless gem. Another simple gift. Shedding his clothes, he drove in and resurfaced with her body squirming against his.

  Giggling, she splashed water in his face. He released her and retaliated.

  “Here’s a game I needn’t teach you, Flame.”

  “At home it’s a way to escape an invader,” she countered before she submerged once more, emerging some twenty meters away.

  “And makes you improve your lung capacity,” he commented wryly.

  “That too.”

  Treading water, she stared at him so long he felt his engorged shaft shrink. Watching her nibble at her lower lip revived his erection. “What is it, Flame?”

  “Have you noticed, Aren, that you only call me Flame when you want to mate?”

  He laughed. “I always want to fuck you, Flame, no matter what I call you.”

  “Has a prince nothing better to think about?”

  “Yes. But this prince suspects you would dislike hearing about it.” Such as our marriage.

  Paddling to her, relieved she stayed where she was, he held out his hand. “Come. I’ve something more to show you.”

  She glanced down. His shaft twitched.

  “I’ve seen your cock.”

  “Something else.”

  He saw the exact moment curiosity overrode wariness. Green became the predominant color in her eyes. Smiling shyly, she put her hand in his. Towing her, he took them to the far side of the waterfall. Since they could not hear over the roaring cascade Aren mimed his intention to take them behind it. She bit her lip but nodded.

  Taking her in his arms, he pushed them through.

  Chapter Eight

  Kel opened her eyes to total blackness. Feeling blind, she squeezed Aren’s hand to assure herself he hadn’t deserted her. Her held breath eased out.

  “Close your eyes again. I promise you’ll like what you see when you open them.”

  “Shiny pebbles,” she sighed, looking all around the now-luminous cave.

  “We call them realloppas.”

  She was so enchanted by the glowing cavern, she barely noticed when Aren waded deeper into the cave then carried her out of the water where the river became shallow. But she did notice the shimmering fabric he wrapped around her. It was the same material she’d put under her pillow last night. The same fabric woven by Drew and Laurette that had, Kel feared, caused her nightmares.

  She pushed out of it, frantic to shed it. It clung until Kel gave up and half-relaxed into its gossamer embrac
e. Her skin heated and tingled. Awareness overcame her. Aren’s naked body heat surrounded her, his cock pressed between her buttocks and wreaked havoc with her good sense. A curious longing washed through her, yet every nerve in her body felt tight with anticipation.

  “Aren?”

  “Yes?”

  “I think this cloth bespelled.”

  “Are you uncomfortable?”

  Kel thought for the moment it took Aren to ease her onto his lap. “Not uncomfortable exactly. Uneasy and too aware of…everything.”

  “Of me?” He tipped her chin, making her look at him.

  “Especially you. I…I don’t want this, Aren.” Sighing, she caressed his cheek and saw his eyes darken. “Yet even without this material, I cannot seem to help myself. I crave your kisses. Your hands on my body. Your…cock deep inside me.”

  “But?” he murmured against her ear, sending hot shivers up her spine and dotting her skin with gooseflesh.

  “I don’t want to be married. I don’t want to make or have a baby. I don’t want to raise one either.” She expected him to shove her away. He cuddled her, the tenderness in his eyes bringing a lump to her throat.

  “Will you tell me why?”

  Swallowing hard, she nodded. “On Amazonia, birthing is dangerous. Each year some women die. Too often, their babes died with them. If—” She drew a shuddering breath. “If a boy survives the birthing, his mother never sees him. He and his father are banished and the woman suffers from both losses.

  “I suppose you believe us incapable of grieving for a son. Or a lover.”

  “My parents grieved for the loss of several daughters. I grieved for my sisters.” He sighed. “But I didn’t bring you here to mourn. There are ways, Kel, to avoid pregnancy.”

  “Withdrawal before ejaculation? Those determined little fertilizers are in your juices, Aren. That much our midwives suspect, having delivered babes to unmated warriors who… I believe you get the point.”

  Aren grunted. “Why don’t you want to marry?”

  Kel shifted, wanting free of the comfort she found in his arms. Without any effort—mostly, she suspected, because she really wanted to stay where she was, he restrained her. “Our histories tell of women who left Amazonia with their lovers. No one ever heard from them until…a short time after their departure, their husbands sent word of their deaths.”