She found an incident where some of his crew had been injured. Sartha exposed Larren’s guilt as irrational, and he felt lighter. A number of battles, powerful events, flickered through his awareness like shuffling cards, stopping when he had not fully viewed something, until he had found the Truth. Through her insight he saw himself differently, more clearly. Linetta was there, and suddenly he understood why he still dreamed of her, why her passing continued to trouble him.
If he had been capable of it he would have laughed out loud.
Larren began to experience bubbles of joy from within. He felt good. So good. An incredible lightness of being. He saw his sleeping body through Sartha’s eyes once more and this cooled his pleasure. He dreaded entrapment. He thought, “I’ll go back to myself, right?”
“Oh, yes, Larren. You are with me for a short time only. As you know, the great thinkers of the past once said that one must “walk in another’s shoes” before one could honestly know another. There is no greater truth. How could one know another’s point of view, unless one assumed it? The ability to mind-touch allows one unique comprehension.”
“Is that what I am doing? Reading your mind?”
“No, but you can do so, it seems …” This tough, no-nonsense Captain was solid and real, something to hold on to. Sartha had felt safe in his arms, reassured by his integrity and his strength. She closed her eyes and envisioned her husband. There were similarities. They were both strong yet gentle. Jarith would be pleased that she had found a friend, a champion. Larren was a good man. She was incredibly grateful that he had come into her life. She had read his mind and knew why he had wanted her to do so. He felt guilty because he wanted to see her again. He was attracted to her. Honorable man that he was, he despised himself for thinking such a thing when she had so recently lost her love. Larren couldn’t explain what he felt, but he wanted her to know. It was sweet and he was kind and thoughtful.
Larren’s help was essential. He would do everything possible to assist her and her son. She needed him. She did not love him, but there was affection, respect and certainly physical attraction. What they were to each other now was not about black and white concepts of morality concerning the recently bereaved Queen of Delian and the Captain of a police cruiser. What was to come was unavoidable in any case. She and Larren were locked together in a two-way mind-touch. This circumstance had set into motion a series of events that were as inevitable as the pull of gravity. She had cured his demons; she just hoped that their joining would be enough to cure her own.
She tensed as the pain of her recent bereavement intruded, taking over once more. There was such an ache in her heart. Jarith was gone. Her people were dead. She was burdened by the Dark Sankomin. Without mind-touch that pain would remain in her present, blocked in her mind, a part of her now … forever.
The river of her mind did not flow: it was dammed by the Dark Sankomin and she was damned to a living hell.
Sartha felt a heady thrill of possibility. Could Larren share her burdens and set her free from the Dark Sankomin? Could an off-worlder save her from insanity and despair? She would always grieve for her husband and her people, but with healing mind-touch at least she need not fear madness. Her mind would flow without limit, and her soul would be released from darkness. She could be herself once more, no longer crippled. Please Jana let it be so.
“Larren,” she thought. “You have borrowed my gift. I will guide you in its use.” After an imperceptible hesitation she directed his mind: “Look.”
And he did. Recent thoughts came first: Larren saw Sartha’s first contact with him, in his body. She had wanted to confide in him. She knew now that Larren felt powerful emotions concerning her, and that he wondered if it was love. She knew he felt guilty because of her recent loss, but she had accepted how he felt without judgment.
“It is as it is.” Such pleasure in that simple truth.
Sartha’s life rolled out before him, a kaleidoscope of sensations, thoughts, emotions and pictures, moving so fast that he was unable to take it all in. A dark-haired man who Larren knew was Jarith. The spicy smell of her world, a heady combination of pine and sea salt. The sight of magical, pink moons and a sky full of stars in the crystal night sky.
Her first visit to Castle Delian. Her fright. Her excitement. A ship in full sail, a cool wind, and a thrilling headlong sprint on some animal.
Despite medical intervention she had had five pregnancies: two miscarriages, one stillborn, and one infant who died within weeks. They had implanted into artificial wombs, had tried every known technology, all to no avail. Jarith’s people had wanted her set aside and Sartha felt cursed. The joy in producing a viable heir was combined with the terrible fear for his survival. He knew her pride and love of the child, her awe of his power, so much greater than her own. He knew her ongoing anxiety for Ash’s health and the tentative ambition that he may yet grow strong.
Larren felt a black rock of emotions too, dark and heavy as if buried in her soul: grief and despair, the loss of her people. She was unable to look at this, to face it, but with his help she could. Larren experienced it all with her as if he had been there.
Such pain.
Sartha’s husband’s death shook him, as if it was someone he cared for that had died. Mentally, he shuddered. His own body flinched.
The death of her love and the destruction of her people. Larren shared her anguish. He could feel this hurt; it was right here in the present with them both. The loss was a stabbing agony, an open, bleeding wound that was draining all joy and resilience from her soul.
“I’m so sorry. Jarith was a good man. We would have been friends.”
“Yes.” Her thought whispered in his mind, a gentle caress.
They understood.
All at once, swiftly and without expectation, they both experienced a tremendous sense of relief. Heavy grief and loss moved away, departing as if in one solid mass.
The wound was gone.
Sartha knew what happened. She thought: It was the burden of the Dark Sankomin. The blockages in my mind, the blockages in your mind — both have been released. The rivers flow freely now. Larren couldn’t understand, but he could feel it. He knew her and she knew him more completely than anyone had known him before. Their combined emotions were rising, lifting, soaring. Then came a gentle mental wind, a tender, warm breeze of mutual affection and understanding. In concert, they experienced a lightness of being and an overpowering sensation of freedom.
“I feel wonderful!” His thought was a mental shout, bursting with an exultation of the soul. “What happened?”
Also enjoying an elevated state, Sartha explained, “We have provided to one another both mental and spiritual release. Only the need for physical release remains.”
Larren was unable to comprehend anything except the glorious sensations he was experiencing. Sartha’s mind flowed through him: images, emotions, and her power caressing, calming … intimate.
Words held no meaning.
He thought: I feel like I have landed in another universe altogether.
He was both bewildered and bewitched, yet those rarely experienced emotions did not alarm him. They thrilled him.
He simply couldn’t begin to comprehend what had happened. Not really. All he knew was that what had occurred was utterly out of his experience. His soul burned with wonder … with awe. Was this what poets and saints wrote about? This awareness? This glory?
It was something amazing. Extraordinary.
It changed everything — everything.
It was as if all he had done or thought or wanted was unimportant.
Right now, this instant: this was all that mattered.
There was a shift. He opened new eyes. He had returned to his own flesh, the powerful male form that was comfortably his. He felt invigorated. He’d never been more alive and aware in his life.
He was also responsive to and conscious of Sartha. He could feel her. She wanted him. They were still connected, body and soul. He felt
so good. “Sartha?”
He turned to her. Sartha was looking down at him; she moved above him.
Larren felt an intense craving of the flesh. Such arousal, such need. He gave a sharp expulsion of breath. If lust was an ocean, he had landed far out to sea. He was surrounded by it, drowning in it. He was acutely aware of Sartha. More than anything he wanted to touch her. He knew what she was experiencing; her sensations were his; they were mixing, combining into an overwhelming surge of energy. She smelled so good. He felt her inhale deeply; her breath was as his own. A soft, sweet brush of air moved near his face. She was close enough to kiss.
The confusion was too much.
He held her just below her shoulders. Apprehension overrode pleasure. “I don’t understand. What happens now?”
She cupped his face. He felt the slight pressure of her fingers as she drew him toward the soft warmth of her lips.
“Now?” she whispered soundlessly inside his mind. “Why, now we touch.”
6. Consummation
One way contact with an off-worlder is always safe as they are mentally blind. Traditionally mind-touch is for partners. There is good reason for this: two-way contact, combined with physical attraction, will result in consummation. Be warned and take care. If there is physical attraction during two-way contact, a chain reaction will commence. This is inevitable and cannot be prevented. Soul-to-soul release; mind-to-mind release; flesh-to-flesh release. Mind-touch with a loving partner is the ultimate consummation. Only mutual climax will conclude such a joining.
— Queen Bardsley, The Interpretations
Their psychic connection may as well have been forged in tadium, sealed with Plexiglas and surrounded by force fields.
It was that solid.
Both Larren and Sartha, soul, mind and body, were locked in two-way mind-touch. According to the Delian Interpretations there was only one means to break such a hold. They had each experienced release of the soul and release of the mind. Now only flesh release would free them from each other.
Captain Larren Forseth and Lady Sartha Chayton lay together on a king-sized bed aboard Assurance. Darla Wu’s security detail remained in the galley and the hall of the Needle-Class vessel, standing guard.
Larren lay on his back, his body hard, tense and ready. By all the Freeworlds, please let her want me as I want her. Sartha had climbed on top of him, had placed her entire body down the length of his, pressing herself against him breasts, hips and thighs. Her sleeveless gown was soft and velvety against him, yet the skin of her arms felt smooth and softer still. Larren trailed his hands hand down her back, resting them against her buttocks to pull her closer as he lightly kissed her.
If the eyes are the windows to the soul, the kiss is the window to character, Sartha mused as she fell into Larren’s lips. Every kiss was a distinctive fingerprint. Larren, gentle and giving, held back his desire in consideration of her. Kind. So kind. Soul so bright …
Larren had heard that portion of Sartha’s thoughts as they kissed. He was back within his own body, but he was hungry for hers.
Holding Sartha, having her against him, had caused him to respond like a reactor splitting an atom: instant, all-consuming heat. He wanted to laugh. Gentle? Giving? Kind? Right now all he wanted to do was take her, hard and fast.
Sartha moved her slim hands over his neck and shoulders. She trembled with longing.
Oh yes. Thank you, Jana. She wants me, too.
He heard Sartha giggle, and he felt a bubble of laughter in her mind. Sartha knew what he was thinking. It seemed that his thoughts amused her.
Well, his thoughts shocked the hell out of him.
Larren’s pulse beat rapidly and his breath came in short gasps. Worlds of Perdition! This uncontrollable lust had appeared out of nowhere. He had the overwhelming urge to throw her down like some sort of caveman, to spread her legs and without preliminary thrust inside her. He wanted to pound into her ruthlessly, to use her mindlessly until she was senseless and he was spent. No foreplay, no finesse. He felt like an adolescent, or perhaps an animal.
He considered giving in to the urge.
His level-headed self patiently talked his impulsive, unreasonable self out of the plan. He reassured his unreasonable self that slow and steady would provide more enjoyment for both Sartha and himself.
Larren’s impulsive self just lusted: here, now.
His entire body responded, agreeing wholeheartedly.
His indecisiveness was back: to screw her silly right now or not? His reasonable self and his unreasonable self now seemed to be in agreement with the hard throbbing that was making itself known in the lower part of his anatomy. Evidently, instant gratification was best for both parties.
Larren looked at Sartha, who was studying his face with raised brows and a smile of approval. He knew she was on board with whatever he decided. He groaned, surrendering. It was pointless to resist. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so out of control — and he hadn’t even gotten her clothes off her yet.
He moved one hand up her shoulder to her neck. Sartha’s lips were soft and yielding. Her silky locks fell across his cheek in a gentle caress. She gave a low sound of pleasure that broke his control. His reaction was immediate and fierce. With one hand on her buttocks he grabbed a fist full of her hair while the other pulled her closer, deepening his kiss. He wanted to possess her completely, to bury himself inside her, to merge his body with hers.
But before he could do more, Larren felt an exact echo of the sensations Sartha felt as they kissed.
Curious, he drew back, frowning, and then kissed her again.
Oh!
Larren felt Sartha feel his lips, felt him grab her buttocks and fist her hair and drive his tongue inside her. Larren felt everything he did to her and her response to his actions. Such a sensual, feminine desire. Larren felt his own fevered kiss burn and flow like lava through Sartha’s entire body. His urgent, obvious desire made her breasts and lips tingle and her lower parts clench with need.
He shut his eyes as her lust poured over him. Amazing.
Larren had never experienced the sensations a woman felt during sex. What man could? Thus it was his curiosity that saved him from himself. When he kissed her or touched her he felt what she felt. There was a delay, but he felt it.
He moved slowly, cautiously, afraid that if he didn’t vigilantly pre-think and control each movement he would be swept away.
Larren carefully rolled Sartha over onto her back, put his weight on his left arm, and his chest against the pillow softness of her breasts. She looked up at him with heavy-lidded eyes of deep, deep blue. Her pupils were large with desire and she moistened her lips, which were swollen and red from his bruising kiss. She made a soft little sound, a sigh of pleasure. Seeing her, hearing her, Larren felt another urgent spike of arousal and his jaw tightened.
He breathed in deeply, regaining power over himself. Larren slowly reached his right hand over, cupping her face, tracing her bottom lip. He moved it, following from Sartha’s forehead, caressing her cheek, across to her ear and neck and lower along her side. He wanted to touch her breasts, but he stopped himself. Not yet. He might lose what little control he had.
Yes. Larren shut his eyes again, the better to absorb her sensations.
He felt her feel the strength of him as he rolled her over and rested his weight partially on her breasts. He experienced her little gasp of breath as she became aware of the heaviness of his body. He felt her nipples tighten as the full heat of his large, hard body touched hers. A moment later he felt her feel his fingers trace her lip, her cheek, her neck, and come close — so close — to her breasts. He knew her rush of hunger as it bloomed from within her. Something tightened lower down, within the core of her body.
Oh, Goddess. Sartha’s lust nearly overwhelmed him. Again.
He clinched his teeth as he exerted control. He felt her breathe in, felt her inhale, knew her enjoyment of his masculine scent. She felt pleasure in the weight of him, heavy upon her. Sh
e wanted more.
It was incredible.
Sartha said, “Ours is not a perfect joining, Larren. When you feel me it is the precise echo of what I am feeling. There is a slight time lag. Do not let it disturb you.”
Their eyes met. A vast wealth of empathy passed between them.
“It doesn’t disturb me,” he assured her, his hands moving through her hair, tangling in her wavy golden strands. Lust was something he understood well, and his sexual need was riding him, but desire was warring with inquisitiveness. What he had here, at this moment, was an opportunity. His curiosity was now the more compelling urge, but only by the slightest of margins!
At last he could answer once and for all the question he had always wondered about in every sexual encounter he had ever enjoyed: Was it as good for you as it was for me? Larren gave her a predatory smile.
“You know what?” he raised his eyebrows with a sexy, mischievous look on his face.
Blue eyes dancing, Sartha laughed out loud.
Larren leaned down, cheek to cheek with her, his lips touching her ear. He knew Sartha felt his touch, the warmth of his breath, the heat of his skin. He knew, she knew, what he was thinking, but he wanted to say it anyway.
As he moved down her torso, he said in a low, deep voice that was thick with desire, “I’m going to feel you come.”
Much later, the subtle humming noises of a ship in space were the first thing Larren became aware of. But these were foreign sounds, with delicate differences in note and tone from his beloved vessel Darla Wu. Larren knew his own ship intimately. Lady Darla’s voice was so familiar to him he could have picked the sounds she made out from a thousand other ships. Gradually Larren remembered and understood. He was on Assurance. He heard soft breathing and the steady slow beat of his heart. He woke fully then and found himself in Sartha’s arms.
WOLF DAWN: Science Fiction Thriller/ Romance (Forsaken Worlds) Page 8