Highlander's Desire: Winter Solestice (Against All Odds Series 2)

by Veronica Wilson

  “It’s about to get even better!” Var’ghan commented as he started thrusting repeatedly, every motion causing her to contort just the way he wanted, completely lost in the throes of passion.

  Her breathing sped up, her moans intensified in both volume and frequency. Unconsciously, she crossed her ankles behind his torso, the way she did every time they made love. He knew what it meant. It was Var’ghan’s cue to step it up, and he would never disappoint.

  Like a machine, he proceeded to hammer the hell out of her insides, the force of every impact causing her body to jiggle as if an earthquake was raging below the two of them. Deborah’s fingers curled up into the sheets as much as they could, threatening to rip the fabric. Her legs let go of Var’hgan’s muscled torso, rising up into the air as the currents converged within her belly. Then, like an explosion, everything disappeared. There was no room, bed, or Var’ghan. She could not even feel her own body. Her consciousness had transformed into an expanding cloud of pleasure, and every additional thrust she received felt like a bolt of feel-good lightning.

  Drowned in bliss, Deborah had no idea how long she spent in that state. By the time she was about to revert back to her body another storm was coming, overpowering her senses again. Everything she could perceive and every pleasurable sensation joined together, producing something she could not describe.

  But it felt amazing.

  Epilogue

  “So… how did the meeting go?” Deborah asked him as she helped herself up from her previously prone position.

  “Not as good as it could have,” Var’ghan responded as he rose from the bed. Full of energy from their recent romp, he took a couple of steps away and turned around to face her. “They didn’t bite yet. But they will, and then my tribe’s—our tribe’s—future will be all set.”

  “What makes you so certain they will not just, I don’t know, get themselves another one? For all we know, the military might be fielding the things regularly.” Deborah couldn’t help but observe each finely crafted detail of his body as she spoke. She knew why he had stepped away—he wanted her to see his magnificent body.

  He knows me so well.

  “They won’t, my love. Trust me. The two of us are the first to get a hold on that new neural stasis countermeasure that seems to be popular among the Earth’s military these days. It is an enormous asset, the way it wakes human soldiers like that, though I can’t for the life of me imagine how they’ve invented it with their level of technological mastery. Anyway, we’ve got it from your escort team, and trust me when I say it: it’s worth its weight in gold. Those still in charge of this mission will need to learn how the thing works so they can develop a way to beat it. And I will not give it to them for analysis until they agree to my terms.”

  “I understand that, Var’ghan, but that still doesn’t answer my question. What makes you think another one of yours won’t grab one by themselves?”

  “The way I did with you?” He smiled, displaying a dazzling array of white teeth. “Not everyone is me, love.”

  The ego on him is staggering. She smiled back. Then again, he is right.

  “But jokes aside, the answer is simple: manpower. There aren’t a whole lot of us left, my love. We used to be capable of a full-on invasion by means of synthetic soldiers, but that is no longer the case. Mankind is advancing at a rapid pace, and those new toys they have that fry our inorganics make every territory we could potentially take not worth the effort. If we want to fight, we now must do so by ourselves.”

  If the general knew this, he’d probably have creamed his panties. Good that he doesn’t, the jerk.

  “Add to this the fact that most of those who were originally engaged in this initiative have already gotten their mates and left for home, and the picture isn’t pretty. The force we still have stationed here is basically a reserve. No one will try to hunt for this technology. I hope that this answers your question.”

  I love it when he’s being all-knowing like that.

  “It sure does, sugar.” She put her hands on her knees, forcing her breasts together as she sat.

  In response, Var’ghan’s manhood started rising again, despite the fact that he’d just had sex. Giving her a knowing gaze, he started getting closer again.

  “As I’ve said, in exchange for sharing my discovery with the reserve, I will demand primacy in eligible females for my tribe. My sons will get to have their brides. The bloodline will not die out. And none of my subordinates will miss a woman’s touch anymore. Not under my rule.”

  “That’s great, love.” She caressed his abs with her hands now that he was near. It made her want more. “But your woman is missing your touch right now. Are you ready for another round?”

  “Always,” Var’ghan replied, the desire evident in his alien eyes.

  THE END

  Desired by the Alien Lord

  NORAH AND THE ALIEN LORD

  Norah Slattery, strapped into her seat in the passenger cabin of the envoy ship from Earth, used her linker, which rested in front of her on the table mounted to the cabin wall, to bring up a hologram of what lay out the front viewport of the ship. The hologram gave her the nearest thing to a first-hand look at the planet Sarma.

  It was an inviting-looking planet, she thought, even considering its recent history. It looked much like the Earth, a blue and green planet with bands and filigrees of white clouds. Sarma's continents had more hues of tan and rust than those of Earth, bespeaking a planet with larger desert and mountainous regions. But even these were as diverse as the corresponding regions that Norah knew back home. Sarma, she knew from the Interstellar Geographic reports, was filled with places that reminded her of the North American Southwest, the Badlands, and the Petrified Forest as well as the great Sahara. Once everything was sorted out politically and diplomatically with Sarma, which Earth had so recently contacted, there would no doubt be increasing tourist traffic to this planet. For now, most humans coming to Sarma were diplomats, government officials, and researchers like Norah.

  Norah appreciated the government back home sending her to Sarma in a private envoy ship, owing to the importance of what she was coming to do here. For the length of her trip, everything had been as comfortable as it could be in zero gravity, and the pilot and copilot had not intruded on her as she went over her project notes and made her plans for further study. She only wished they had assigned her a ship with artificial gravity, but such vessels were few in number even for government use. Artificial gravity was the rarest and most luxurious technology in demand just now, though it was expected to become standard in space vessels eventually. For this trip it was the usual deal of being strapped into her seat for most of it, or plodding around on the decks in magnetic boots as the only alternative to floating. Norah never much cared for floating, as nature had seen fit to give her a full and roundish figure and she always felt ungainly and self-conscious in freefall. She also had to pin back the brown hair that normally settled over her shoulders, lest it drift annoyingly into her face. One of these days, she often promised herself, I swear I'm just going to have these extra pounds lasered away so I'll be more comfortable when I have to leave Earth. She had just never gotten around to it.

  Regardless of all that, she would surely be more comfortable when she got where she was going; for on this, her first visit to Sarma, Norah was to be the guest of a lord.

  She tapped on her linker to dismiss the hologram of the planet, then tapped on the opaque crystal square again to bring up another hologram, this one the image of Lord Vashar. Truth be told, he did not strike her as a terribly lordly-looking person, in spite of his gold-leaf-patterned burgundy suit. It was not only because of the inverted triangle of hair down his forehead from his hairline to the bridge of his nose, which only marked him as Sarmian. It was because when Norah thought of a lord, her mind always gave her a somewhat archaic picture of an elder gentleman, perhaps mustachioed or bearded, with a paunchy belly, presiding over a lot of underlings. Lord Vashar was a complete
contradiction of the image. She guessed his age at perhaps a couple of Earth years over thirty-five, certainly not yet forty—comparable to her own age. And Lord, but this lord was something handsome. With slightly tousled, dark brown hair and dark brown eyes to match, his features were like those of a leading man in a holovid. He had what Norah liked to call a bedroom face. Moreover, she could tell that the figure under that ornate suit must surely be a bedroom body. No doubt Vashar spent plenty of time out of his lordly vestments and between the sheets with the lucky ladies of Sarma.

  Norah, however, was a most fortunate engineer of the planet Earth, who had been sent to Sarma for the unveiling of the discovery in Lord Vashar's possession, which even now lay locked away on his estate. It was one of a series of such discoveries that had almost perfectly coincided with first contact between Earth and Sarma. The news of these discoveries had sent shockwaves through the political and scientific communities of known space. It was as momentous as the meeting of the genetically related peoples of Earth and Sarma themselves, for it would almost certainly change the entire understanding of galactic history and the place of all sentient beings in the universe. The eyes of civilization across space would be on Sarma when the presentation was made, and Norah Slattery would be there when it happened.

  To engage motion and sound she tapped on the display of Vashar standing in his elegantly furnished study, and the recording began to play. She had watched it several times, but the subject—and the presenter—were just so fascinating, she thought she would never tire of them.

  In the recording, Vashar stood looking every bit the gentleman before a large curtain several heads taller than he and perhaps three times as wide. Sounding just the way he looked (his accent reminded Norah a bit of Earth's British) he went into a talk.

  "Brothers and sisters of Sarma and other gentlebeings," he began. “As you know, we are living in an unprecedented time in the galaxy. We had believed that the discovery of a shared ancestry between the people of Sarma and the people of the planet Earth was as remarkable and extraordinary a thing as this generation would ever know. We should have been contented to know that it was the most extraordinary thing to occur in this century and that we all lived to see it. But even in a time of wonders, it seems, there is yet more wonder to be known."

  Norah listened raptly as the gentleman of Sarma went on, his voice mesmerizing her as much as his appearance did. "With the discovery of our kinship with the human race of Earth came many speculations in the communities of science, not only on our own two planets but every other planet in known space. How could identical genetic markers appear in species from two different planets separated by thousands of light years? How did specimens of terrestrial life find their way to Sarma? Is it indeed that Sarma became the cradle of life from Earth, or did life from Sarma in fact make its way to that planet? And what agency accounts for this shared heritage? Who or what could have thus intervened in the natural histories of these respective planets?

  "The leading conjecture holds that aliens, ancient and powerful in the extreme, unknown and perhaps unknowable, visited one planet in its prehistory and delivered life from there to the other. Our most ancient mytho-history on Sarma tells us of ancient gods whom we call the Shapers, whom our most distant ancestors served. According to the tales of the dawn of our existence, 'twas truly the Shapers who made us the warriors we have always been; who bred us to battle in their own wars—until, for reasons and by means unknown, they disappeared, leaving us to our own devices. We have had no evidence of the reality of the Shapers save for texts, etchings, tapestries, and paintings that we have held for thousands of years—until now."

  "Artifacts have been discovered in the galaxy—objects created by technologies foreign to any known civilization. When the first was discovered on planet Sigma Cephei, unearthed by archaeologists thereon, it activated with an energy of unknown source—and on three other planets across space, similar energy signatures suddenly appeared, leading scientists to three similar artifacts, leading to the conclusion that the objects are of the same origin and are somehow linked across spacetime. One such object was found here on Sarma itself, and another upon the very planet Earth. It might have been found here far sooner than it was, but as you know, we of Sarma have until recently been too embroiled in our planetary conflicts to discover the unknown. You, the members of scientific disciplines from across known space, have been invited to my estate here on Sarma, on my property where the Sarmian segment was found, to witness the assembly of the parts of the single artifact to which these discoveries collectively belong. It is hoped that we shall then learn the function of the artifact—and perhaps know secrets of life on Sarma, on Earth, and even the galaxy, which no other generation before us has ever learned. And now, I present to you... the Sarmian segment."

  Norah smiled, containing her excitement. She watched as Vashar drew away the curtain and exposed the find. There, standing upright on a broad platform behind him, was an arc of metal resembling bronze, carved and etched with patterns that suggested circuitry. Parts of it shimmered with an inner glow, and other parts appeared encrusted with gleaming jewels. It was a thing as beautiful as it was mysterious. Had it been a vertical column it would have stood as tall as Vashar himself. Its shape suggested that it was one quarter of a circle. Either end of it had nooks and niches where another part would fit. When the three remaining parts were delivered to Sarma and the whole thing was assembled, it would be a large ring, twice as high as a man was tall. What was it for?

  Vashar echoed the question. "Is this object truly the work of the Shapers? If so, it is the only such work ever known to have been discovered. What is its purpose? What is its true power? If it is the work of minds completely alien to our own, is its purpose even knowable to us? When we gather here on my estate, we shall endeavor to seek the answers together."

  At this point the gentleman of Sarma looked directly into the lens of the recording device and sounded as if he were addressing Norah personally. He finished, "I await your coming."

  With that, the recording reached its end and vanished from the space above Norah's linker, leaving her with a distinct tingle in her chest and in other, more intimate regions.

  Sarma was still perhaps an hour and a half away, giving Norah plenty of time to dwell on the welcoming message of the hologram—and the equally inviting appearance of the Sarmian lord who created it. Sarma was a monarchy ruled by a king or queen, and like all such monarchies it had a hierarchy below the throne. At the lower end lay the leaders of the planet's thousands of individual tribes, who petitioned the needs of their tribes to the lords. It was the lords who drafted petitions to be presented to the throne, to be dismissed or enacted into laws as the ruler saw fit. Vashar, then, stood at the midpoint of the hierarchy. But the lords had other functions. They also presided over all of the planet's seats of higher learning. All the greatest and most important knowledge on the planet was collected and disseminated under their watch. A Lord of Sarma represented political power and education rolled into one package.

  And in her capacity as a university research engineer with government connections, Norah had been selected out of a very large pool of very eager candidates to be present to witness and record what happened when all the pieces of the possible Shaper artifact were brought together and, it was assumed, the artifact was fully activated.

  On Earth, Sarma, and every other civilized planet, the assembly of the Shaper artifact was greeted with as much anxiety and trepidation as excitement. No one could be sure what such an alien thing would do. Was it an elaborate bomb or booby trap? The possibility that it was a weapon had not been ruled out, given that the Shapers were thought to have bred the Sarmians as warriors. Perhaps it was a transport device, such as an artificial wormhole or spacetime conduit. It could be a signal device, designed to activate countless other hidden devices for whatever unguessable purposes. Or its function could be something completely unanticipated—perhaps wonderful, perhaps dire for all life. No one
knew. In universities and seats of government across the known galaxy, the device was a subject of an inferno of debate. Many were the voices that cried out for keeping the pieces separate, of not turning the thing on at all. But curiosity, the need to know and understand, had finally won out—and Sarma, the last planet of the four where the pieces were found, was chosen as the site of the assembly. And it was this fateful moment that Norah Slattery would be there to see.

  ________________

  Arriving on Sarma, Norah was impressed with the courtesy shown her as a functionary of the government of Earth. The chauffeured vehicle that awaited her at the spaceport nearest her destination was not a common floater. It was a larger, more ornate-looking craft that reminded her somewhat of the chariot magically transformed from a pumpkin in an old Earth fairytale. The pilot of the floater removed her baggage from the ship and carried it to the fairytale craft. Norah did her best to look like a slender, graceful girl in a ball gown and glass slippers as she climbed inside and the floater went whizzing away over the ground. This, she guessed, must be one of Lord Vashar's official vehicles, which had surely transported nobles from other districts of the planet to meetings with Vashar. She was being treated as a Sarmian VIP, a gesture that she hoped was a good sign for the rest of her visit.

  The craft glided along the avenues of what Norah took to be one of Sarma's larger cities. She noted the lack of tall buildings in her surroundings. The Sarmians had a noticeably different architectural sense than on Earth. Where Earth cities were planned to grow upwards, Sarmian city planners seemed to favor an outward, lateral spread like the suburbs of Earth's 20th and 21st centuries. Norah guessed that none of the buildings she saw was any more than seven or eight stories in height, and their general style reminded her of pictures of southwestern pueblos that she had seen in old photo books. What most captivated her was the people, especially the men. Only the elders of Sarma had round, stout, soft bodies. Anyone under about the age of fifty-five Earth years was a lean, hard specimen. Moreover, the Sarmians seemed to have bypassed completely the body shame of Earth's history. Norah was bemused at how relatively little anyone, the men in particular, wore while out on the streets. Well, she figured, anyone built like these people had no reason at all to be ashamed; though it struck Norah that she might feel rather out of place here as a woman in her thirties with a body type like that of a Sarmian woman in her sixties. What would the Sarmians think of her? Would they treat her as the age she was, or as an elder?