Tales of the Shareem, Volume 2

by Allyson James

  The tip of his cock touched her lips. “Suck me.”

  Yes. Elisa opened her mouth and welcomed him in, loving the now-familiar taste of his cock in her mouth. She licked the tip, moved her tongue on the underside, and sucked the way he liked it.

  Braden let her for a while, rocking his hips, hand on her back, softly telling her how beautiful she was. He withdrew before she finished him, backing out of the way of her outstretched hands.

  “Not yet,” he said. “I want to come with you.”

  “But I like it when you come in my mouth,” she said.

  Braden made a sound like a growl. “Hell, don’t tell me that.”

  He reached into his back and pulled out the thin strap. Elisa squirmed in excitement.

  She screamed when the first lash landed on her buttocks, her laughter ringing up through the atrium. The leather hissed through the air—swish, slap. Swish, slap.

  Then Braden’s lips, kissing away the fire, his tongue probing down between her buttocks.

  Elisa moved against the desk, knowing now how to pleasure herself on the surface below while Braden worked her ass.

  He parted her cheeks and licked her, wetting her and relaxing her. Next lube, and, happily, the hard feel of a plug. When Braden set it vibrating, Elisa moaned her thanks.

  Braden gave her another spank. “Thank me when it’s done, love. Right now, we enjoy.”

  Elisa was already enjoying. The vibration inside her made her crazy, the hard desk beneath her, where she’d worked so many hours, doubled the intensity.

  Braden lifted her and turned her over, her bare back against the cool desktop now. He leaned down and kissed her face, throat, breasts, belly, pussy, and then straightened up and positioned himself between her legs.

  Elisa groaned in pleasure when Braden lifted her hips and guided himself into her, then raised her from the desk. He went deep into her, holding her, surrounding her, while the vibrator pulsed inside her.

  It was bliss. Elisa held him, sinking into his warmth. Braden smelled good, dark and hot, and she nibbled his neck.

  They rocked faster and faster, Braden’s skin slick with sweat, his eyes filled with blue. He kissed her lips, he nipped her earlobe and suckled her neck. They swayed together, both breathing raggedly, groans tearing from them. The only other sound was the fountain, playing into the silence.

  They peaked together, Elisa full of him and the plug, Braden crying her name. His hands were all over her, Elisa clung to him.

  They collapsed to the chair behind Elisa’s desk, panting, laughing, kissing. Loving.

  “I love you so much, baby,” Braden said. “My librarian.”

  “I love you. My Shareem.”

  They sat together, Braden holding her secure in his arms. It was a wonderful moment, the two of them, alone in the silence with their love.

  “Do you think we’re finished?” Braden asked after a time.

  “Mmm?” Elisa was comfortable and happy. They could stay in this chair forever, as far as she was concerned.

  “This isn’t what I brought you up here for. Well, not the whole reason.”

  Elisa raised her head to look at him. “What, then?”

  “Remember my fantasy? The one I told you about, back when you were still celibate?”

  Elisa’s body thrummed with excitement. “Yes.”

  “Then you know what I want. Go up on that balcony. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you. I’ll be right here.”

  Elisa hesitated. It was one thing to be behind her desk, which had always felt like a safe place to her, another to walk naked through the library.

  She hesitated until Braden gave her a swat on the butt. The plug was still there, and he clicked it on to vibrate again.

  Why not? Braden had taught her how to be wild and wicked, and now Elisa could be.

  She leaned down and gave him a long, hot kiss. Then she walked rapidly through the atrium and punched the button to open the lift.

  It felt strange to move around this dark place stark naked. Exciting. Elisa cupped herself as she rode upward in the lift, enjoying the sensation of her fingers, the pleasure a forbidden thing in this place.

  Elisa stepped off the lift and moved to the balcony. Braden had been playing with the lights, and one now shone directly on a space near the railing. Elisa stopped under the light.

  Below, Braden smiled up at her, a hot Shareem smile. His cock was lifted, ready, wanting, in spite of them finishing crazed and wicked sex only a few minutes ago.

  He waited for her, her lifemate with the wicked eyes, the near-slave who’d taught Elisa what true freedom was.

  I love you, Braden. I love you with all my heart.

  Elisa cupped one hand around her breast and touched the other to her pussy. Braden’s smile turned to a grin as he gripped himself.

  “You’re beautiful, baby,” he said.

  Elisa smiled, warmed by his words, and proceeded gave the man she loved the best show of his lifetime.

  *** *** ***

  Rees faced Justin over an ale at Judith’s bar. Talan was across the room, talking animatedly to Mitch and Judith, Talan asking all about Mitch’s ship. Mitch, Justin had seen by now, liked the attention of ladies, and Judith liked watching Mitch talk.

  Rees’ focus, on the other hand, was at the moment all for Justin, which Justin decided was a little unnerving.

  “I figured out why you don’t want to go,” Rees said quietly. “I just want you to know that I don’t blame you.”

  “Shit.” Justin gripped his ale glass. “Braden has a big mouth.”

  Rees shook his head. “Braden didn’t tell me. He can be a loyal friend. A pain in the ass, but loyal. I did a little research and put things together. Was the child from a guinea pig?”

  “Yep. I don’t know where the woman is anymore. Or if she’s even still alive.”

  “Son or daughter?”

  “Daughter. And I know the risk to her. It’s tearing me apart, trust me.”

  Rees’ look turned sympathetic. “I’ll do what I can to help. I was pissed off at first when you didn’t want to leave with us, but I got to thinking.” He glanced at Talan, the affection in his eyes plain. “What if it happened to me, and the child was one I’d given Talan? No way in hell would I leave Bor Narga, even if it meant my life here was dirt. I understand your pain, Justin. And believe me, there’s been a lot of pain.”

  Justin lifted his glass. “Give me a little bit of time, that’s all I ask. I want to find out what happened to her mother and decide what to do. Then I’ll join in your search for a way off this rock, and accompany you to Shareem paradise. Promise.”

  Rees clicked his glass to Justin’s. “We’ll get there.”

  “We will.”

  Justin thought about his daughter Sybellie, that beautiful young woman laughing with her friends. He could destroy her simply by existing.

  What good finding her mother would do, he didn’t know. But he needed to find Lillian, needed to find his peace with it all.

  Justin thought next of Braden and Elisa, even now celebrating their lifemating. He’d celebrated such a thing once, and he silently toasted Shela of Sirius III, one hell of a woman.

  He lifted his glass again. “To Braden and Elisa.”

  “Braden and Elisa.” Another clink of glasses.

  Rees drank, then reached for Talan who came to him and snuggled into his embrace. Rees gave her a long kiss that made Justin remember nights of passion with Shela. He missed her with intense fury.

  “We’ll find a way, Rees,” Justin said when Rees and Talan came up for air. “I swear it by all the gods.”

  “Yep,” Rees said, giving him a wicked Shareem grin. “We will. This is not over yet.”

  End

  Justin

  Tales of the Shareem

  Book 6

  Chapter One

  “Ident card.”

  The patroller who held her hand out to Justin had pretty brown eyes, sleek dark hair, and a lush body in a tight cover
all he wouldn’t mind seeing her out of. Not bad, but she was a patroller and right now in Justin’s way.

  He moved past her outstretched hand, making for the Vistara station’s exit. “Sorry, sweetheart. Catch me on the way back.”

  The patroller got in front of him again. “I said, ‘Ident card.’”

  Even through his impatience, Justin noticed her smooth face, slightly upturned nose, and wide, kissable mouth. He was Shareem—of course he noticed. Her hair was pulled into an I’m-a-tight-ass knot on the back of her head, but she couldn’t hide the sheen of it.

  He didn’t need to give her his ident card to leave the station. Justin had bought a ticket and already turned it in, like everyone else. But patrollers enjoyed hanging around hovertrain platforms harassing people, especially Shareem.

  “Tell you what,” Justin said. “You wait for me here, and I’ll give you my ident card on my way back.”

  Dark brows snapped together, and her sultry eyes narrowed. “No, you’ll give me your ident card now, and I’ll think about letting you walk out of here.”

  Damn it. He was already late, and if he didn’t hurry, Sybellie would be gone, and Justin would have to wait another entire day to see her. If Justin didn’t see her every day, some space in his heart went empty.

  He tried to stride around the patroller, but she got in front of him again. The little sweetie was fast. “Ident card,” she repeated, a dangerous edge to her voice.

  Fuck this.

  Justin grabbed the woman around the waist, lifted her, swung around with her, and set her back on her feet. She gaped in shock as he plunked her down, too stunned to restrain him or even shout for help.

  Justin grinned, tapped the end of her nose, whirled away, and strode through the crowd and out of the station—fast.

  He heard her shouting behind him, but he didn’t worry. The small female patroller would never out-stride a long-legged Shareem.

  A loud thrum vibrated through his body, and something hot bit into his backside. Justin’s knees buckled, and he met the pavement, face-first, his nerves sizzling like fried wires.

  He heard applause. The crowd on the Vistara was cheering the patroller who’d taken down the dangerous Shareem.

  Through his fogged vision Justin saw the patroller’s booted feet stop in front of his face. Justin couldn’t keep his gaze from traveling from her slim ankles up her long, sexy legs all the way to sweetly curved hips hugged by the coverall.

  His last thought before another stun burst whacked him in the side was that she had the most lickable calves he’d ever seen in his life.

  *** *** ***

  His name was Justin.

  The information on Deanna’s prisoner flickered across her console at the main Pas City detention facility.

  He’d been part of DNAmo’s Shareem project—genetically engineered males created for sexual pleasure—before DNAmo’s productions had been declared illegal and the company forced to shut down. This Shareem—Justin—had been sold to a buyer a few years before the shutdown and shipped to a planet called Sirius III.

  Sirius III had required the woman who’d purchased Justin to let him go, as human trafficking was highly illegal in the Sirius system. Justin, once free, had apparently decided to remain on Sirius. He’d lived there for twenty-five years as an ordinary citizen, cohabitating for about fifteen years with a woman called Shela, until her death a couple of years ago.

  A few months ago, Justin had returned, of his own volition, to Bor Narga.

  Why?

  The Shareem represented all things sensual and sexual, qualities abhorred by most Bor Nargans. On Bor Narga, the forbidden Shareem were second class, restricted, watched, forced to take inoculations to keep them sterile and disease free.

  So why had this Shareem given up his freedom to come back to live on this rock?

  Deanna studied the holopic that rotated slowly on her console. Justin had dark brown hair, hard, handsome features, and, of course, Shareem-blue eyes. That was the man in her cell, all right.

  The holopic showed only his upper torso, but Deanna filled in the rest. He’d towered over her in the train station, the man nearly seven feet tall. He’d worn sun-blocking robes over his tunic and leggings, but the material had outlined a body of solid muscle.

  And he was strong. When the Shareem had lifted her, the power in his hands had taken her breath away, rendering her so hot and confused that she’d not even thought to draw her gun. Clipping handcuffs over his thick wrists had given her a strange shiver of pleasure as well.

  Deanna hadn’t been in the processing room when her male underlings had stripped him down. She was supposed to abhor the sexual as much as the next Bor Nargan woman, but damn. She’d liked to have seen that.

  Deanna’s console beeped, startling her out of her daydreams, the alert from the guard she’d been waiting for.

  The Shareem was awake.

  She shut down her files, tucked her handheld into her belt, and left for the detention area.

  Pas City’s detention building contained a maze of cells made of foot-thick transparent plasti-glass, each cell about six feet square and ten high. Nutrition gels were issued through a slot in the floor every few hours, refuse taken away through another slot. That was it.

  The Shareem called Justin was in a cell halfway down an empty row. The guards had let him resume a loincloth that covered his privates, but nothing more. Apart from that, he wore only a black chain around his right biceps, the mark of the Shareem.

  Those biceps were huge, his arms connected to equally large shoulders, round and tight, above a chest as sculpted with muscle. He was male beauty, slick with sweat, on display for all to see.

  Deanna made herself approach his cell at a brisk walk, pretending that all that naked flesh didn’t unnerve her. Justin raised his head as though he heard her coming, though the cells had been soundproofed.

  He looked exhausted, dark smudges under his eyes, but then, he’d gotten a double dose from Deanna’s stun weapon. In spite of appearing as though he could barely stand, however, he gave her an enraged look that could blow a hole through the foot-thick wall.

  He said something, lips moving in silence behind the soundproofed wall. When Deanna flicked a switch to turn on the mikes between them, Justin closed his mouth, but he never took his eyes off her.

  “You know that refusing an identification request from a patroller is grounds for incarceration, don’t you?” Deanna asked. “Even termination?”

  Justin folded his arms, all those muscles rippling. “Yeah? Well, fuck you, sweetheart.”

  Deanna made herself not flinch. “If you give me a good reason for refusing my request for identification, I might be able to get you a lighter sentence.”

  “Request?” His smile held no humor. “Is that what that was? You didn’t need my ident card, Patroller. I’m in your damned database.”

  “I know that. But all Shareem must render identification when asked.”

  “You know, you’re sexy with that rule book up shoved up your ass.”

  Deanna curled her fingers into her palms. “You had your ident card with you. Why didn’t you just give it to me?”

  He shrugged. “I was in a hurry.”

  “For what?”

  Justin stepped forward, put his mouth right in front of the mike, and spoke slowly. “None of your damned business.”

  Deanna’s gaze riveted to his mouth. His lips were pale and smooth, and the way he smiled made his tanned face delectable. His tongue moved with his words, red and moist . . .

  She dragged in a breath. “You’re Shareem. I’m a patroller. It is my business.”

  “Not this time.”

  His eyes were so blue. All Shareem had blue eyes, while native-born Bor Nargans had brown. Their irises were a little bigger than the average human’s, and widened when they were aroused.

  “Your record shows that you were warned twice to stay out of the Vistara district,” Deanna said. “So why didn’t you?”

&nbs
p; “There’s nothing in your rules that says I can’t walk down a public street, sweetheart. I looked it up.”

  “But people on the Vistara have made it clear they don’t want Shareem on their part of the hill.”

  “People on the Vistara are a bunch of full-of-themselves, sticks-up-their-asses, wannabe rich folks. You patrol there. You should know that.”

  Deanna privately agreed with him—patrolling the Vistara could be a major pain in the butt. Not because of crime, but because of the incessant complaints of the people who lived there. Nothing the patrollers did was ever good enough for them.

  “Doesn’t matter,” she said. “You received several warnings to stay away. You knew you could get arrested if you went up there again. So why did you?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe I felt like moving the sticks in their asses.”

  Deanna forced herself not to smile. “Who did you go to see?”

  Justin hesitated the slightest bit, and Deanna knew she’d hit pay dirt. She’d only guessed, but his little start confirmed it.

  “None of your damned business,” he said again.

  “A woman who hired you?”

  “Sure.” He gave her a steady blue stare. “A client.”

  Shareem couldn’t lie, the files said. They’d been programmed to have no emotions and no ability to lie—to have no understanding of the need to lie.

  So why was she doubting him?

  “Can this woman vouch for you?” Deanna asked.

  Justin grinned, and again his face deepened into something beyond handsomeness. “A woman from the Vistara? Admitting she hired a Shareem? Are you kidding me?”

  True—if a Vistara woman confessed to wanting sex, especially with a forbidden Shareem, her sticks-up-their-asses neighbors could make her a social outcast.

  “You might die if she doesn’t admit it,” Deanna said.

  “Guess it’s not my lucky day, then.”

  What was wrong with him? Did he want to be terminated?

  “Look, I can be discreet,” she said. “I’ll contact this woman privately. No one has to know I spoke to her or that she hired you. She can trust me not to reveal her name.”