Sex Me Replete

by Tianna Xander

He followed the scent trail until a strange thumping sound drew him into what appeared to be a cargo bay. Entering, he shook his head. It must have been his imagination. He made to turn around before deciding he had better investigate further, despite how difficult it was becoming to breathe.

  The ship appeared empty, abandoned. Whoever had been aboard must have evacuated before the ship crashed. There was nothing here but strange, long, narrow cargo boxes barely big enough to carry anything of import. Weapons perhaps?

  He thinned his lips at the idea that they’d discovered a ship belonging to weapons traders. Those of that ilk were better left here. Warmongers had no place in the new world. Still, as the ranking official, it was his responsibility to open one of these strange crates and see what they carried.

  Pulling his phase pistol from his waist, he aimed carefully at the latch of one of the peculiar containers. He didn’t want to accidentally hit the contents. It could be explosives. His personal guard called out a warning just before the beam hit the latch and it snapped open.

  Michal turned to the man and gave him a strained smile. “See? Nothing more than a cargo box.”

  “Think you so?” was all the man asked, as his eyes grew round as tea plates.

  Turning at the other man’s obvious astonishment, Michal stared down at one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen. She lay in the box sleeping. Her chest rose and fell at an even rate. Platinum hair, settled about her head in a silver halo, seemed incredibly long. He wouldn’t have been surprised if it reached her knees.

  “Look at this, Garmin.” He pointed at the inside of the lid. A glowing display screen showed the woman’s respiration and heartbeat. “It’s a stasis pod—one unlike I’ve ever seen before. Do you think they locked themselves in these little boxes to keep themselves alive?”

  Garmin did little more than grunt and give him a dirty look—probably for not following proper safety protocols. Michal shrugged, caring little about the risks he took. In his mind, he did what needed done.

  Michal rubbed the center of his torso and took a deep breath, his chest still too tight. He didn’t care how much Garmin’s dubious feelings were hurt. He had to know why he had connected to this ship, why he felt that all the air in his lungs was draining out, bit by bit.

  The thumping began again—more frantic, more urgent than before. The sound, coming from a slightly larger and crested pod at the end of the line of stasis chambers, seemed not quite as strong as it was before. He hurried over to the device and shot the latch as he did the first. The lid didn’t budge.

  “Help.” The words he heard were incredibly weak.

  The sobs of a woman inside ripped into his heart. He could feel her fears, hear her thoughts. She believed she’d suffocate before they could rescue her. No! Not while he lived. This one would not die.

  He shot the box once again. He’d get the damned thing opened if it killed him. His chest ached. The unknown woman lay dying while he stood here helpless, unable to free her from her deadly prison.

  Michal growled. He knew his anger showed in the glowing of his eyes as his vision turned red and his feeding fangs shot from his gums. Bending down, he used all of his preternatural strength and ripped the lid from the pod. He tossed it aside, uncaring where it landed to stare down at the most beautiful woman this side of the Summerlands.

  She lay with her eyes closed. Pale and still as death, she was a vision unlike any he’d ever seen before. He paused, his mind processing her appearance, then reality crashed through him. Still as death!

  Pulling her from the box, he fell to his knees, laid her on the deck and tilted her head back. Breathing into her lungs, he forced his own breath into her, begging to the Lady Goddess to spare this woman. His woman…his mate.

  * * * *

  Less than a dozen meters behind the downed ship, hidden behind a rocky outcropping, Royce and his brother watched the newcomers arrive. Pissed at the delay in getting aboard the ship, Royce fumed. “You scent her don’t you, Roman?” he whispered to his twin.

  Can you feel our mate, as well? They had known for some time that they would share a mate. It only seemed natural to them. They'd shared everything since the day they were born.

  Yes, my brother. And right now, this new ship and her crew are keeping us from her. We must go in there and retrieve her.

  I agree, Roman. But how are we to get past the guards watching the entrance.

  Roman’s lips quirked and Royce knew he wasn’t going to like his brother’s suggestion. He wasn’t going to like it at all.

  We shift into sand fleas. They are looking straight out and up, but not at their feet.

  Royce grimaced, but he had to agree with Roman. It would work. It would just seem to take forever to cross the distance between their hiding place and the ramp.

  Knowing just where Royce’s thoughts lay, Roman encouraged, At least, once we’re inside, we can take our normal forms and search the ship for our mate without anyone knowing we came aboard. Besides, just because we’ll be small, it doesn’t mean we have to travel slowly. We are magical creatures, are we not? We’ll just zip across the dirt as though we were on a mechanized vehicle of some sort.

  Royce tilted his head in acknowledgement. You are right again, my brother. Without another word between them, they both called upon the magic inside them, shifting into the form of sand flees common to their planet. Nearly invisible to the eye based on both size and coloring, they should go unnoticed by those guarding the downed spacecraft.

  Within minutes, Royce and his brother boarded the alien ship. Once clear of the entrance, Royce shifted back into his normal form, that of a nearly six and a half foot tall Hienial-Halfling Warrior and waited for his brother to do the same.

  Knowing that several others were already aboard the ship, Royce and Roman searched cautiously, using all their senses to hone in on their woman—their mate. After several wrong turns, they found themselves outside what appeared to be a cargo hold of some sort. They could hear voices inside, could even feel their mate, growing weaker and weaker by the moment.

  We have no choice, Roman. We need to save her, he pleaded. He knew it wasn’t the smartest thing to enter a room without intel on what lay inside and with no fellow warriors to protect their backs.

  You’re right about that. The others should be here soon, but we have no time.

  After taking a deep breath, they both boldly stepped through the doorway. What they saw nearly stopped their hearts then filled them with absolute rage.

  “Get your mouth off our mate or die where you are.”

  * * * *

  Jeri felt the press of someone’s warm lips against hers. Damn that Alosia! She’d told her time and again, she would have no part of two female sex. She had nothing against the women who indulged in that sort of thing, but she’d have a red-blooded male or nothing but her fingers and toys. Raising her arms, she pushed the face away from hers, opened her eyes and gasped. Not only did she need to fill her lungs because they ached, but now she was seeing things.

  Amid the haze surrounding her sight was a vision. A man! Dark hair framed a classically handsome face. Dark eyes stared down at her and she nearly allowed herself to sink within their depths. His lips still glistened with the evidence that he’d lain his mouth upon hers and his face was flushed. It gave her some delight to realize he wasn’t unaffected by his actions. His broad shoulders gave way to thick, muscled arms that had held her to him while he’d breathed the life back into her. All in all, he was exceptionally well-built.

  Surely she’d died and gone to heaven for no man existed aboard her ship. And definitely not one so handsome as the one who had held her in his arms. He looked down at her, a smile curving his lips. And he was so young! This male certainly wasn’t old enough to be her grandsire. Even if he didn’t wish to mate, perhaps she could convince him to leave a sample of his semen—so they could impregnate themselves to carry on their race—as did the other males they’d found that were too old to raise the women’s t
emperatures. If only he had a friend or two, they would have enough sperm to impregnate themselves more than once. Perhaps they could breed their own males. If they were careful.

  She almost snorted. As if they could be so lucky. The man was most likely a figment of her imagination, a vision of what she wanted most, while she lay dying in her pod. Damn. She knew there was a reason she didn’t like those accursed things! Elaborate coffins…that’s all they were. She stopped her musing for a moment when her mind registered what woke her up. It had been a man’s voice.

  Widening her eyes, she dared to sit up and look around. The deck still dipped and pitched. She wasn’t well. Oxygen deprivation, that’s what it was. It had to be because when she managed to keep herself upright, she counted four men. And all of them were fine specimens of breeding age. Two light and two dark. Matched sets! She looked from one to the other, her eyes appraising as the two, very large men, made their way forward with murder in their eyes.

  “Get your hands off our woman!”

  Whoa! Her people needed men to procreate and, well, for sexual gratification, but none of them belonged to any male. They were Amazonians. They prided themselves on the fact that they’d managed to get along without men—not by choice, but necessity. For some reason they never bred males. It must have been inferior semen. It just had to be the man’s fault. Lifting her chin, she hid her thoughts behind her haughtiest expression. She looked to the man who still held her—most likely the reason she still sat upright—and felt a strange connection. Was it because he’d had his lips on hers? Why did that feel so good, even while it felt strange?

  “She is not your woman. This ship just crashed here and she was here in stasis. We know you have no spacecraft with flight capabilities. The people aboard this ship are free to do as they please. They may have crash landed here, but that does not give you the right to dictate their lives.”

  Finally gathering her wits, she scowled at the lot of them. “I can speak for myself, thank you.” She shook the man’s hands from her person and stood on shaking legs. She gave them all a look she hoped would freeze gear oil and straightened her shoulders. “I belong to no man. I am Jerineau Arden, captain of this vessel and leader of this band of Amazonians. I must see to my people.” The next hurt her to admit, especially to men. “I need your assistance in freeing them from their pods before they all perish. I fear their pods may fail as my own did.”

  The dark male nearest her tipped his head and indicated two pods in the corner. “Go open those. I’ll stay here and make sure she’s okay.”

  “We don’t take orders from you.” The large blond men seemed agitated and a bit menacing. Their thick, muscular necks bulged and they kept their hands fisted at their sides. They were itching to fight the taller, thinner male.

  She was scared spitless for him, but his manner told her he had nothing to fear though the others were larger. The idiot. Either he was stronger than he looked or he was a fool. She wasn’t positive she wanted to find out. “Please. We may not have much time.”

  “We will do as she asks after you introduce yourself.”

  The dark man shrugged. “It costs me little. I am Michal Dare, High Prince of Savar. I have come with Ryo of Kneese, ruler of the new Hienial-Halfling race. He searches for his people.” He raised a glossy brow. “And you are?”

  * * * *

  Michal waited for the men to answer though he knew in his heart who they were to Jerineau. But how was it possible? He was her mate. He knew that. He felt it to the depths of his soul. So did that mean the Goddess blessed her with three men?

  His mother, Jaynee, often complained good-naturedly that having two alpha men as mates tended to be a bit overwhelming. For a woman used to making all her own decisions, as his mate appeared to be, having three mates wouldn’t appeal to her. At least, he didn’t think so. He’d have to think on that more when it didn’t look as though her other mates were about ready to kill him. “Well?”

  The two blond men looked from one to the other, nodded then shrugged. The one on the left stepped forward. “I’m Roman Dri’Vane.” He pointed his chin at his look-a-like. “This is my twin brother, Royce.”

  “And I take it you’re natives of this planet?”

  “As native as you are.”

  Michal nodded, having known that the Goddess wouldn’t have given him bond-mates who were meant to stay here when his mission lie elsewhere. “Then you are Hienial-Halflings abandoned or crash-landed here long ago?”

  Again the twins looked to each other in apparent twin-communication, before Roman answered. “Yes. If your Ryo is the Hienial-Halfling leader, then it is he we will speak to.”

  “Of course.”

  “But not until you step away from our mate.”

  “Ahh… But, we seem to have a problem there because she’s my mate as well and I doubt she’ll accept any of us, never mind all three of us. Isn’t that right, Jerineau?”

  “Don’t put me in the middle of your squabbles. I’m not in mind to take any male to mate, but your semen could be quite useful.”

  Michal stilled. The two blonds growled. Apparently, none of the men liked the idea of being used just for their seed. They were genetically pre-determined to search for their mates and the fact that their mate didn’t seem to want them apparently didn’t sit well with any of them. It could, in fact, begin to cause serious problems amongst them.

  “You want our seed?” Royce growled.

  She stood straighter, her gaze fearlessly meeting each of theirs. “If you’d be willing to part with it. I’d not take it by force.”

  Royce turned away and stared at the bulkhead. Roman looked down at the floor, his shoulders shaking.

  Michal didn’t see what was funny about the situation at all. “We cannot continue to stand here and talk. The others may need rescuing. I suggest we do that then adjourn to either your village, Roman, or my ship circling the planet if you’d like your conversation with Ryo of Kneese to remain private.”

  Jerineau stepped forward and placed her hand on Michal’s arm. “I’d like the women to be sent to your ship to your medical facilities if you have them. If they’ve come to harm while we’ve been chatting it will be my failure as captain and as their leader.”

  “As you command, Jerineau.”

  “Jeri. You three may call me Jeri, for now.”

  Michal looked to his other mates then back to Jeri. She didn’t look happy that she’d made that concession, but he’d take what he could get. She probably didn’t realize it, but calling her by a favored name would only bring them closer. “We’ll get this done faster if we each take a row of stasis pods. My crew’s armed with weapons if the stasis pods refuse to open manually, though that didn’t work for me. I had to use my preternatural strength to open Jeri’s pod.”

  With that said, everyone went in different directions. Each took an aisle of their own, opening one pod at a time. By the time they opened the last pod, only one Amazonian woman could not be revived. Jeri took her death hard, blaming herself personally for the woman’s loss. Michal wasn’t sure how to approach her, what to say to her, though the need to comfort his woman was nearly overwhelming.

  What could he do? What could he say? Anything could enrage her. He almost laughed at the ridiculous notion that he would part with his seed. Still, he didn’t want to annoy her. It was hard to believe that all this time they had searched for unmated women and this ship full of women existed looking for men. It was highly improbable. He knew from his association with the Earthling queen of the Dragon world that no thing was impossible, just highly improbable.

  * * * *

  Roman looked upon their mate. He could barely believe they had a woman of their own—if she would have them. She didn’t seem predisposed to associating with men. Listening to them was probably out of the question. He rubbed the back of his neck. What were they to do? Her scent was driving him wild. His brother was also under her spell, the poor fool practically swayed toward her every time she moved or spoke.
Good grief, he hoped he wasn’t making such an idiotic spectacle of himself.

  How could the other male stand so still, so intent? His eyes watched every move she made, yet he didn’t move a muscle. What control he had. Either that or he lied about her being his mate. Perhaps he merely wanted this female to himself and thought to claim her as his own regardless of their purely chemical reaction to her. He almost growled at the thought.

  The soothing sound of Royce’s voice broke through the red haze of his jealousy. Do not worry, brother. He will not take her from us and live. He has no idea of the powers we possess.

  Roman almost snorted. Who was he kidding? If the other man spoke the truth he would know of all the powers they possessed. The man, Ryo, so called king of the Hienial-Halflings would know what they could do. In turn, his lackeys must also know.

  “I take insult to that, Halfling.”

  Roman stiffened at the other man’s upset. “Of what do you speak, strange one? I have not said anything. I merely stand here admiring the beauty of my mate.”

  Michal sneered. “You do not know of the Savari.” He grinned almost evilly. “Perhaps I shall enlighten you more in the future, but for now, know this—there is little you can think of or do that we do not hear or see. I take exception to being called Ryo of Kneese’s lackey. I am Michal Dare, High Prince of Savar. Take care you do not insult my house again. We can be very powerful friends.” He raised his brow. “Or enemies. Please keep that in mind.”

  He nearly lost his footing at that. Casting a glance toward his brother, Roman swallowed thickly. He never knew of a species that could read thoughts at will. He and Royce could only do such with each other. They had shape-shifting powers and telekinetic powers, but neither of them was a mind reader. The very thought boggled the mind.

  Michal Dare smiled thinly, evidence of good humor never reaching his eyes. How could they defend themselves against someone who knew their thoughts, knew what they would do, what they were capable of?