Battle readiness was important for other reasons. At some point or another, the men left their villages. Mostly it was to hunt, but trading parties also regularly traveled between communities. Such journeys took place in groups of armed flying craft, but there had been instances when drones had managed to shoot down Risnarish vehicles. It was during those times outside the barriers that they had to be capable of fighting.
Like all Risnarish villages, Hahz had no plans to make war on their enemy, but Kren had ensured they were ready to defend themselves. Drills and war games took place several times a year to hone their skills. As commander of Hahz’s forces, he had confidence in his men’s abilities.
But to go on an offensive against the hive itself?
He stared at Mekay for a moment before whispering, “The Assembly would never allow it.”
“They would not, unless something forced their hand. In most cases, I agree with that. Yet I am convinced Jeannie is of the Spirit. I cannot, in all good conscience, be party to her execution if the Assembly were somehow blinded to that fact.”
“But what would attacking the hive get us?”
“They had the means to take her from Earth. They have the means to send her home.”
“You want me to clear the hive in order to return her to her planet?”
“Do you have a better plan?”
Kren did not, unless he and Jeannie were to live outside the protective barrier of Hahz. If Jeannie was judged a Monsudan creation, the Assembly might send warriors after them. If the Risnarish didn’t find them, the Monsuda would.
Kren’s stomachs clenched. The idea of Jeannie leaving Risnar hurt him deep inside. Yet for all his determination to keep her alive at any cost, there was always the chance he could fail. Even as his soul screamed he would never let that happen, he knew the truth.
He met Mekay’s gaze. “I will order extra drills, using the recent attacks of the drones on our borders as an excuse. I will make offhand comments to those I believe I can trust that perhaps we will be ordered to rescue those held by the Monsuda.”
“Though everyone knows the restrictions on striking the hives, those in favor of doing so will respond accordingly.” Mekay’s eyes twinkled. “You already know Arga’s answer to that.”
“He has never gotten over Retav’s loss. As I would not accept yours or Gurnal’s so readily.”
Kren looked at his guardian with strengthened devotion. He loved the man who’d raised him with all his hearts at that moment. “Thank you. May the All-Spirit let you feel my gratitude for this.”
“May the All-Spirit deem it unessential for us to reject the Assembly’s leadership.” Mekay’s expression became pained. It was no small matter for him to consider working against Risnar’s leaders.
In a burst of emotion, Kren hugged him. “You are ever the man I wish to become. From my spirit to yours, you are making no mistake.”
* * *
Evening fell over Hahz like a shroud. Jeannie worried over the coming night. What was the status of her relationship with Kren now?
She was still stinging over him not telling her the truth of her position. How could she ever believe in him again? Yet he’d apologized and she was sure he meant it. He’d promised to earn her trust, taking it step by step.
Jeannie didn’t know that he could. She wanted him to. Her silly crush begged her to give him the chance. Her shattered belief in others said one more false step, and she’d never be able to give her faith to another person ever again.
Dinner came and went, and Kren treated her as any conscientious host would. He didn’t smother her. His occasional touches—a hand on her shoulder or on the small of her back—felt somehow profound. It wasn’t in how the contact was made, which was with all the sexual innuendo of platonic friendship. It was the look in his eyes that set her heart stuttering. How silver could appear anything but cold, Jeannie couldn’t guess, yet Kren’s eyes were far from it. They were ice-fire, so hot that they burned almost white.
The night wore close to the time they usually went to bed. Jeannie was adding language instruction to the system when Kren rose from his seat in the visiting partition. “Come to bed with me.”
His tone was soft and Jeannie heard an undercurrent of gentle command that made her belly flop. In that instant, all the questions of whether or not she should keep him at a distance ceased to exist. Right or wrong, she wanted to be with him. Damn the consequences.
She took his offered hand and let him help her to her feet. Her heart thundering, she followed him to the bedroom.
Kren turned to her after they reached the side of the bed. His expression was filled with anticipation. “We will move to the next phase of learning to please each other. This time, you may touch me all you wish.”
Well, hell. She wasn’t about to refuse an offer like that. Not in a million years.
“First and foremost, I need this,” she told him, slipping her hand around the back of his neck. She tugged him down as she surged up on her toes. Her lips met his.
She tugged gently on his lower lip with her teeth, encouraging him to open to her. He did so, and her tongue swept into his mouth to taste. She sighed into the kiss as his woodsy, masculine flavor greeted her.
Warm. Wet. Delicious.
His tongue twined about hers, and she sucked at it delicately, encouraging him to invade her in kind. He did so, setting her senses on fire. Jeannie moaned, clutching him as close as she could as they took turns plundering one another.
He’d said she could touch him all she wanted.
She wanted a lot.
She couldn’t bear to break the kiss, so she began her investigations while they remained locked together. She traced over the massive shoulders, feeling their warm granite flexing under her examination. Then his biceps. Next came the wide, carved planes of his chest. Her hands swept the breadth of him, then she crowded close to feel her breasts flatten against all that muscle.
Kren made a sound that was half moan and half growl when she arched into him. He cupped her buttocks and squeezed. Pure desire shot through Jeannie. The bolt was so intense that she had to pull free of the kiss to cry out his name.
Her vision was misty as she stared up at his face through desire-blurred eyes. Damn the man. Jeannie didn’t have full confidence in him, not when it came to bucking his leaders, yet she wanted him more than she’d wanted anyone.
Jeannie usually enjoyed a strong-willed man taking the responsibility of sexual pleasure off her shoulders. She fit the role of a submissive in intimate settings, and Kren acted more than happy to play the dominant. But if she didn’t get more than the teasing he had offered thus far, she’d go crazy. It was her turn to wield authority for a change.
“You’ve insisted on doing things the Risnarish way,” she said. “If I don’t stray too far from those parameters, maybe you’d allow me to share a little of the Earthling way?”
“What do you mean?” His voice came out husky. Jeannie didn’t mistake the desire that lit in his gaze.
“It would be easier to show than tell. Just hold still as you had me do the other night. Let me know if anything I do is enjoyable.”
Before he could insist on further information, Jeannie sank to her knees. She moved faster than was probably what either of them preferred, but she was determined to make Kren a little crazy. To show him he wasn’t the only one who could set a lover off. Though judging from the striped shaft that had grown to impressive length from his groin, it wouldn’t take much to ignite her alien’s passions.
“I can touch all I wish,” she paused long enough to remind him. “As I wish.”
With that, she gripped the base of his cock and slid her mouth over the rest.
* * *
The room around Kren rocked as Jeannie’s warmth enveloped him. Wet heat sang through the contact, sending fire into his loins. It billowed there, spreadin
g to his spine. Shooting up into his skull. The brush of his very mane tingled as she drew on him, sucking as she slowly, gorgeously pulled back. He cried out in shock, his hands sprouting a dozen fingers to bury in her silken hair.
He was living in a dream at that moment. Or perhaps he’d died and gone to the in-between, where souls lived in love and pleasure between the trials of lives. Certainly he was no longer tied to mortal existence.
He marveled at the woman gazing up at him as she granted him her sweet gift. Jeannie’s pupils were dilated. Her lips had plumped with the force of his kiss, their delicate pink shining with wetness as they moved over him, gathered in the most astounding of embraces. Her always beguiling scent had grown stronger, filling his senses with delicate musk that spoke of lust, that she wanted to give as much as she wished to receive.
He’d never seen anyone so beautiful in his life. Never felt anything as astounding as what she did to him.
His eyes rolled as Jeannie added to the rampant sensations, her tongue stroking the underside of him as she moved back and forth. For the next few minutes, Kren’s thoughts ceased to exist. His whole being drowned in heady awareness of balmy softness, of delicate but profound tugging movement, of velvet and vapor and down. Of bliss. Rapture. Euphoria.
The first intense jolt brought Kren out of the thrall Jeannie had cast over him. Deep within, a muscular spasm clenched his gut in warning. He caught his breath, seeking control. Yet the enchantress before him had quickened her pace and strengthened her grip, coaxing another tremor to shudder through him. His restraint was unraveling.
For a bare moment, Kren considered letting it go on, letting Jeannie take him over the edge. It was a beguiling notion, one that beckoned even as he gazed down at her and knew she deserved better.
With a curse, Kren fought the urge off, reaching to pull the siren to her feet. His loins ached with the loss of her.
“Kren—” Jeannie started. He cut her off with a kiss bent on punishment. She whimpered, tugging at the back of his head, her fingers tangled in his mane.
He kissed her hard. He kissed her thoroughly. He kissed her as if he was on the verge of tossing her on his bed, parting her legs, and sinking into her warmth. Because he was. Had he not been so well trained by the elder women of the temple, he would have given in to the compulsion. His groin was heavy, swelling with want. Erupting with need.
Jeannie writhed against him, and his body jerked in reaction. He swore violently in his mind, though he never missed a beat of trying to kiss her senseless. It was her making him senseless, however. She ground against his livid cock, making his pulse gallop in his ears. Her hands were all over him at the same time, caressing his torso, arms, and ass, making everything feel so alert.
He couldn’t take it. The dome was spinning, and he couldn’t get enough air. His hands were still on her lovely, little round ass, and he used his grip there to pick her up. He spilled them both onto the bed, his body covering hers.
Moving his groin to meet hers meant Kren had to break the kiss. He stared down at Jeannie as he pushed her legs apart and shoved against her womanhood.
She cried out, her head straining back. Her legs locked around his hips and she thrust, her fists clinging tighter than ever to his mane. Hunger thundered, and he rode her, sliding back and forth against her wet slit.
“Kren! Oh my God! Oh...my...”
Her voice failed and body strained. Her spine bowed in a supple curve. Something kicked hard in Kren’s groin. Ecstasy billowed, and he let go in gorgeous, rapturous bursts.
They came down little by little, their gasps quieting as their bodies calmed. After several minutes of silence, wrapped in each other’s arms, Jeannie grinned at Kren. “Can we go on to the next step now?”
He laughed at her mischief. “Actually, we just did. And we stay on this stage of noninvasive pleasuring for a few nights.”
Jeannie’s happy expression turned into a pout. The system tried and failed to translate her comment of, “You know, there is something to be said for... Risnarish equivalent for English ‘wham-bam-thank-you, ma’am’ not found.”
* * *
The next day when Arga stopped by his home, Kren tried not to respond to the hopeful light in his friend’s eyes as he outlined the new duties they were taking on. “The extra training for our warriors will commence on a daily basis until things settle down again. Make sure all the men take note of the enhanced parameters. We begin tomorrow.”
Arga stared at the readout on his CPP, which showed the file Kren had given him. “Close-quarters fighting. Offensive measures. Extra boom cannon practice. This isn’t to protect the village. You’re planning to invade the hive.”
“Only if necessary.” Kren put as much warning in his tone as he was capable. “This is worst-case scenario training, Arga. Not a plan to clean out the Monsuda. The Assembly has not approved of that.”
“Have they approved of this?” When Kren didn’t answer, Arga nodded. “I thought not. You’ll forgive me if I consider all the options this training opens up.”
“Don’t.” Kren couldn’t handle Arga reverting to the desperation he’d experienced when Retav was taken. “There is nothing but death for us within that hive. We don’t know enough of its layout to find your guardian and pull him out.”
“Not yet.” Arga’s eyes narrowed. “But things can change.”
* * *
In addition to drilling the warriors of Hahz, Kren went on a campaign to win Jeannie supporters in the village. Over the next few days, when work allowed, he took her around to learn about Risnarish life and make friends.
Jeannie enjoyed the education. She discovered that various guilds and manufacturing domes circled the temple complex. The placement of the industrial center of Hahz made it easy for the research teams within the temple to transfer new technological breakthroughs and upgrades to the manufacturing sector. Those who chose to work such trades were mostly men, but a small number of women could be found among the guilds too. The production domes were bustling places of cheerful industry. Everyone had the attitude that no matter how small their contribution, they were doing something vital for the community good.
Jeannie spent an entire happy afternoon touring the weaving guild’s workplace and talking to the craftsmen. Being a clothing designer, she knew quite a lot about weft and warp and grain and bias. She was delighted by the beautiful fabric designs available, impressed by the amazing machines that wove the more functional bolts of cloth, and astounded by the prowess of those who used old-fashioned hand looming techniques for one-of-a-kind fabrics.
The weavers were fascinated by her clothing. Jeannie was chagrined when they insisted she take several bolts for free to design herself some new outfits.
“But I can’t offer you anything in return,” she protested. It hurt to refuse the silver silk-like fabric that would make such a gorgeous suit, but she didn’t dare accept.
Head Weaver Smali wouldn’t hear of her not taking it. “If you stay in Hahz for any length of time, we will have you draw designs for our linens and draperies. You have an eye for it, and it would be exciting to collaborate with you,” he said. “Take the fabric as prepayment. If you leave before you can create for us, then consider this as a goodwill gift from our people.”
Jeannie’s interactions with much of Hahz went along the same vein. The people, particularly the men, were friendly to a fault. She showed interest in everything they did, fascinated in the dichotomy of a people who lived simply but with technology that made their work run in harmony throughout the village. Almost all the men farmed, employing the Bonch as field hands and sharing the bounty if their neighbors fell short. In addition, they pursued passions like weaving, manufacturing, writing, art, education...whatever their hearts led them to do.
The Risnarish boys spent their days in what was called the Recreation and Learning Center. They learned in an environment that made J
eannie jealous for her own childhood. Theory was mixed with real-world applications as the boys learned various trades and arts up to the age of twelve. At that point, their aptitudes and passions were tested to help them zero in on the work that they wished to do. They were allowed to pursue their dreams to the greatest of their ability. No one was dissuaded from attempting what made him happy, however untalented a youngster might be at the outset of his chosen vocation.
It was much the same for the Risnarish girls, though meditation and intense spiritual focus was considered a must no matter what other interests they might have. Boys were also encouraged to consider their place in the wider universe, but not with the intensity that the girls were asked to. Jeannie was glad that though the girls were quieter and more inwardly focused than their male counterparts, they still laughed, played, and above all acted happy and secure in themselves.
Jeannie often visited the temple as well, experiencing the lives of the women who worked and lived in its environs. This was where the sciences held sway. Much as the women who chose to work in the trades, the men who were interested in scientific fields were welcome to work alongside the females. They were also welcome for spiritual retreat and instruction, the affirmed province of the Risnarish women. The temple was always serene and peaceful, and Jeannie’s mind settled as she toured the many-domed complex. When she walked the temple’s gardens with its heavenly scented blooms or sat learning meditation with one of the spiritual guides in the hushed sanctuary, the hurts she’d endured throughout her life seemed less important.
Jeannie found that the women were friendly, in their way. They were more remote than she was used to, but not unapproachable. Though they never laughed loudly or offered anything beyond the subtlest jokes, most showed a decent sense of humor. Many exhibited warm regard as they got to know her. Perhaps Kren’s limited contact with the women was the sole reason he found them distant. For her part, she enjoyed their company.
However, Jeannie felt the most comfortable with the men. Almost every night, there were gatherings throughout Hahz, get-togethers around open fires in areas called erawots. Jeannie thought of them as the campfire jamborees. The men would gather, trade advice on whatever the current crop conditions were, swap jokes, tell stories, and play music they sang along to. Home brews of ales were tried out on each other. A brew was deemed good if only a couple people spat it into the fire. Usually five or six made the cut because successful recipes were passed down from generation to generation. The Risnarish took great pleasure in gauging Jeannie’s reaction to their ales. Often the ones not palatable to the villagers were the ones she liked best, and vice versa. A new insult was born of this: ale fit only for an Earthling! Jeannie laughed with the rest when it was declared.
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