Michaela
Page 19
Raxstad’s head fell back and he yelled. His primary cock shot cum all over Michaela’s breasts. As if he had started a chain reaction, Korkla’s cries joined in, his cocks jerking hard inside her. Then Govi went off, spraying Michaela’s face with his juices as he gasped and watched her widen her mouth to catch the spicy-sweet-salty offering.
That did it. Michaela’s womanhood spasmed like a fist around the cock thrusting deep, and shattering pleasure at last billowed forth. Her shrieks continued, moving from the bright, fiery excitement of male orgasm to the deeper, headier female pleasure. With both happening at the same time, she was able to appreciate the differences: one relieved while the other fulfilled. For a moment, Michaela actually appreciated being able to experience the glory of being both male and female.
Deafening yells subsided into throaty groans. Groans became breathless gasps. The four lovers calmed and blinked at each other as if coming awake from a shared dream.
“Damn, I’m glad to be a part of this fucking clan,” Raxstad grunted. He grabbed Govi by the back of the head, pulling the swaying Imdiko halfway across the table – and Michaela – for a quick but intense kiss. Then he shoved the snickering Govi away and bent to kiss Michaela too. “Oh, nice,” he growled, licking her face clean.
Korkla sighed as he slipped carefully out of her. He and Raxstad began to pull the straps loose that held Michaela down as Govi went to the wall closest to the door they’d entered through. It was only then that Michaela saw a sink, shelves full of cloths of differing sizes, and a cooling unit. Govi wet a smaller cloth in the sink, took a blanket-sized one and tucked it under his arm, and then withdrew a pouch of vitamin fluid from the cooler. The Imdiko rejoined the group and handed off the blanket to Raxstad and the washcloth to Korkla.
“I didn’t make this mess,” the Dramok said with pretend annoyance. “Why do I have to clean her up?”
“If you don’t want an excuse to rub all over this gorgeous body, I’ll do it.”
“Fuck you,” Korkla said with a bright grin. He commenced to wiping Michaela off with the soothingly warm and soft cloth.
Govi laughed and slipped his arm under Michaela’s shoulders, lifting her up and putting the pouch to her lips. She gratefully drank the contents, which tasted similar to a berry smoothie. Meanwhile Raxstad waited and watched, ready to wrap her up in the blanket as soon as Korkla had her scrubbed.
“We could have gone into the shower instead of washing her like this,” the Nobek said. His grin was pure lechery.
“Tireless as ever,” Govi snickered. “Our little girl is exhausted. She wants her bed.”
It was true. Being held by Govi, cuddled like a baby while Korkla cleansed her and then Raxstad wrapped her up warm and cozy in the blanket, had Michaela drowsing already. Her heavy eyelids had closed.
Not to mention coming so damned hard that I don’t have any energy left, she thought.
She finished her vitamin drink. Govi drew it from her lips and asked in his softest voice, “Who is our beauty?”
The instant thought, not a beauty, a freak was in and out of her head in a moment. “Me,” Michaela mumbled, giving him what he wanted to hear.
“That’s right. Good girl. Never forget it, not for a single second.”
Arms gathered her up from the other side, and Govi let her go. Michaela knew without opening her eyes that it was Raxstad who held her now, her Nobek who carried her. The slight shifting told her he walked with her in his arms.
It was the best feeling in the universe, being held by her big strong clanmate. Michaela curled deep into his chest and invited the encroaching darkness take her. She was asleep before he put her in the bed of her new home.
Chapter 12
Michaela sat on a seating cushion out on the balcony of her clan’s apartments. She found it difficult to keep her eyes closed. The gorgeous sunlit sky with its parade of shuttle traffic, the sparkling pink-sanded beach, the gentle rumble of the waves ... all conspired to urge her to look and see what was going on.
I should have used one of the boys’ meditation rooms she chided herself. But Michaela had felt a nearly desperate urge to have the sun on her shoulders and to inhale the sea-salt air while she meditated. All around, it had turned out to be a bad idea.
First, she’d spent far too long picking the spot from which to ponder her breath. No part of the long balcony that stretched the entire length of the clan’s home was a bad one where views were concerned. The vista of seascape was stunning no matter where one decided to perch. But did Michaela want to see the rock formation to the north of the cliffs? The rolling dunes with their blue sandgrass fronds to the south? Or the immense stretch of sea that disappeared into the horizon with pleasure vessels and large freight carriers plying the waves?
Michaela wandered to and fro on the stone balcony, trying to decide. Her surroundings and the activity constantly distracted her. First were the Kalquorian versions of ships, long sleek metallic structures that were as artistic as they were functional. One pleasure cruiser moved close enough to the shore that Michaela could see vacationers on the curved decks. She heard the bright, happy music that played for their entertainment. Her clan had told her that the water pleasure cruises offered every sumptuous indulgence one could wish for from the food to the entertainments. They promised her a honeymoon on one following their official clanning ceremony ... which would happen as soon as the men’s work schedules would allow.
Korkla, Govi, and Raxstad had wasted little time in getting back to their jobs. They’d been back on Kalquor with only two days to settle Michaela in before returning to their routines. The main reason was because of the Royal Council scheduling a meeting with the Imperial Clan today. The Crown Prince Clan had decided they would attend.
“I’m sorry, my Matara,” Korkla had apologized. “It can’t be helped. With Clajak’s clan claiming Jessica for their lifemate there will be repercussions, particularly from their former fiancee’s father.”
“Head Councilman Pwaldur,” Michaela said. She’d learned the Dramok was not only the most important man on the council, but also an eternal thorn in the Imperial Family’s side. “Why in the hell did Clajak’s parents arrange for him to clan a Matara he doesn’t like? Especially one who is the daughter of a man none of them like?”
Korkla gave her a strained smile. “When the clanning of Matara Narpok was arranged, she was only three years old. No one knew she’d become such a spoiled brat. Plus the Imperial Clan hoped to make Pwaldur more of an ally than an enemy. They knew he would be a force to reckon with, long before he became head councilman.”
“From what I’ve heard, that hasn’t worked out so well,” Michaela pointed out.
Her Dramok shrugged. “Truth be told, Emperors Zarl and Yuder can’t resist defying Pwaldur whenever possible. They dislike Pwaldur and his lust for power as much as he despises them for having the power he craves.”
Michaela scowled. “Emperor Zarl is a sweetheart. There is not one mean bone in that man’s body.”
Korkla had chuckled at her immediate defense of the man who had taken the time to teach her to speak Kalquorian. “He is good to you. He is like an uncle to those of us he cares about. But to his enemies, Zarl wastes little breath on kindness. Even being crippled has not diluted his strength when it comes to standing his ground.”
As a top-ranking officer in Global Security, which was charged with upholding the Empire’s laws, Raxstad had decided that he should get back to work too. “Who knows what trouble the council meeting will stir up? Pwaldur is powerful enough to spark demonstrations if he can get Clajak angry.”
“Clajak has promised to keep control of his temper,” Korkla countered.
“I’ll believe he’s capable of that when I see it.”
“Is Jessica going?” Michaela wondered. She couldn’t see her friend keeping her temper either, especially if someone yelled at her clan or Zarl.
“By the ancestors, no,” Korkla said. “She doesn’t need that kind of stress, no
t when she’s pregnant.”
Michaela rolled her eyes. “Just because a woman is pregnant doesn’t mean she’s going to break. My mother helped plant fields when she was pregnant with me, plus she dealt with the clean up after a hurricane hit Haiti. Trust me, a hurricane is much more stressful than some blowhard trying to fuck up Jessica’s happily-ever-after.”
Govi shook his head. “Children and Mataras are too few and far-between for us to risk any chance of them suffering. I’m glad Clajak isn’t going to allow Jessica to face Pwaldur.”
Michaela’s Imdiko had been her one clanmate not planning to return to work just yet. While Michaela had initially been pleased about that, the day before had changed her mind. As the local hospital’s head psychologist, Govi had spent more time on his vid com with his staff than anywhere else. When he wasn’t doing that, he looked through files and muttered to himself.
“Go to work like the rest of them,” Michaela had said during dinner. Govi’s meal had been interrupted four times by communications from the hospital. She knew his half-eaten dinner was stone cold by then.
“But you’ve only been here for a little over two days—” he started to protest.
Michaela interrupted him. “And you’ve been home for one, at least mentally. Dr. Kivokan and Dr. Conyod have seen you more today than I have.”
Korkla snickered. “She’s got you there, my Imdiko.”
Govi reddened. “I’m sorry. I promise I’ll devote all my attention to you tomorrow.”
“Forget about it, Govi.” Michaela smiled at him to show she didn’t mind. “They’ll just keep calling you, and you’ll worry yourself sick over those poor Mataras who are every bit as screwy as me. The difference is, I have a clan that I know keeps me safe and secure. They haven’t adjusted as well as I have.”
“You’re my priority,” the Imdiko insisted.
“I know.” Michaela waved his concerns off. “We’ve had weeks together during which you’ve proved that over and over. Plus it sounds to me like your staff can’t go one more day without you. They’ll just keep calling, so you may as well go to work and get out of my hair.”
She didn’t really want to be left alone, but Michaela could tell Govi itched to take care of his patients. A crease had appeared between his brows, and it deepened with every com he got from the hospital. Govi’s leave was over, courtesy of his colleagues and his need to fix everyone’s hurts.
He started to give in. “What will you do, all by yourself?”
“Who said I’d be by myself? Jessica and I will comfort each other, poor little abandoned Mataras.”
Korkla’s brow arched and he grinned. “Does comfort include me handing over my account information?”
Michaela smiled brightly at him. “I do need to explore the marketplace so I’ll know where to buy groceries. Plus there is the matter of furnishing my rooms, putting a few pretty touches in this overwhelmingly masculine decor, and I’m not sure I have enough outfits for the coming summer—”
“I should have taken that promotion,” Raxstad told them. “We’ll need the funds.”
Govi and Korkla cracked up. The Imdiko said, “No, you’re no good with the administrative work that being territory supervisor means. You’d end up in the Dangerous and Violent Ward.”
Raxstad knocked back his glass of kloq and opened a fresh bottle. “True. My partner is more than welcome to that shit. This clan might end up poor, but while Breft is tearing his hair out over filing forms late at night, I’ll be at home fucking my Matara.”
Michaela rolled her eyes. “Food and sex. You are easily pleased.”
“You’re right, lucky girl. Cook or order our meals and open your legs to me, and we’ll always be happy.”
Govi hadn’t quite been soothed from the guilt of leaving her to her own devices so soon after coming home. “You could always come to work with me,” he suggested. “There’s a beautiful garden on the roof, very serene. You could do your meditation there.”
Michaela looked towards the balcony with its outstanding views. “That beach is pretty serene too. Besides, I haven’t spent any time with Jessica since we got here.” That decided her, along with the prospect of shopping. “Go do your manly duty of supporting me in the opulence I plan to become accustomed to. I need girl time with my bestie.”
That was how Michaela ended up bidding her clanmates goodbye the next morning, sending them off with early morning sex and breakfast.
Meditation first and then I’ll see what Jessica is up to, she thought to herself as the quiet of the home settled about her. Maybe I can get some insight as to what to do with my life now.
For all her joking about having the men support her, Michaela was not interested in non-stop shopping or sitting about the house or waiting to be made pregnant. She wanted something meaningful to do until she could lavish all her time and attention on the many children she hoped to give her clan. Govi had put the brakes on babies for the moment anyway.
“Not until you no longer despise yourself for being intersex,” he had insisted shortly after they had clanned her. “Parents set an example for their children. You need to show them that no matter the differences, all sentients are worthy of respect. How can you do that when you don’t respect yourself?”
Michaela had wanted to become a mother right away, but she had to admit her Imdiko was right. With Korkla and Raxstad supporting Govi’s wishes, she had no choice but to wait and try to come to terms with her dual-sexed reality.
“I need something to do to prove how worthwhile I am,” Michaela muttered as she wandered up and down the balcony, trying to figure out where she would meditate. “They’re sweet to tell me to relax and enjoy my free time, but I need a purpose.”
But what purpose was there for someone like her? Michaela’s skills were made up of slopping food on trays in a mess hall, cleaning kitchens, and belly dancing. Somehow she doubted a clan as high ranking as hers would allow their Matara to perform menial kitchen work. They would definitely not be enthusiastic about her shimmying for the pleasure of the mostly male Kalquorian Empire.
“Too bad. Raqs Sharqi is what I love and what I do best,” she muttered, finally giving up on finding one area better than another. She flopped down on the nearest seating cushion and folded her lean, muscular legs in the lotus position Jessica had taught her.
Michaela closed her eyes and drew a deep, steadying breath. She liked the calm meditation gave her, but it was one of the most frustrating things she’d ever done.
Breathe in, feeling it in the nose and chest. Notice the moment between the inhalation and exhalation. Breathe out. Breathe in. Nose and chest. Quiet moment. Breathe out. Breathe in. Relax the shoulders. I could take classes if I figured out what I was interested in learning, couldn’t I? I could be a nurse like Jessica, maybe. But I’ve never wanted to be a nurse. All I ever wanted was to get away from Earth. I never thought about anything else.
That and dancing. I wish I could find a way to make dance a valid occupation here. I don’t even need to be paid. Kalquorians have versions of theater and concerts. What about dance recitals? Didn’t Raxstad say there were a few Kalquorian women who did something called ‘expressive dance’? The men don’t dance though, except to demonstrate ancient tribal rituals for educational purposes. What the hell is wrong with these guys? How can an entire race of men not dance?
Oh hell, I forgot to think about my breath. Okay. Breathe in. Smell the salt in the air. Gosh, the seashore does smell good. It’s so nice out here. Pause for quiet. Breathe out. Just the breath. In. Quiet. Out. If more Earther girls came to Kalquor I could give lessons. Jessica enjoys it. But we were all taught it was a sin. Would anyone dare to take my dance classes? Because if they’re fucking clans then dancing’s not so – shit. Breathing, Michaela. Think about breathing.
I wonder if the guys are missing me yet or if they’re too busy? Okay, just breathe. Think about the next damned breath, would you?
Jessica had assured Michaela that most people’s
thoughts strayed all the time during meditation. Michaela still thought she was the worst person to have ever attempted it.
She’d been struggling with keeping her mind focused on her breath for about five minutes when the home’s door announce went off. It interrupted her thoughts, which had strayed to how much fun sex in the shower had been that morning.
“Well hell. So much for mindfulness,” Michaela grouched. She pretended that she was irritated by the interruption in her meditation. The advanced soul didn’t get cranky over disrupted contemplation on delicious, wet men.
“It should,” she muttered.
She stood, slipped her flat-soled shoes back on, and hurried to the elegant greeting room to answer the door. “Who is it?” she called.
“Me, myself, and I,” Jessica answered.
Michaela chuckled. “Enter.”
The door hissed open. “Welcome, your Highness,” Michaela greeted her friend teasingly. It was still funny to think how Jessica was now a princess.
It was the other woman’s first visit to Michaela’s home. Jessica goggled at the opulent greeting room. “Holy Hannah. If I’m royalty, why is your greeting room so much nicer than mine?”
Michaela laughed. “Ask your Dramok. He hired the decorator for this room. The rest of the house is extremely understated. At least, until I have my say. I was going to ask you if you wanted to visit the market today?”
Jessica shook her head, looking flushed and excited. “Some other time. I’m glad to see you’re already dressed. Come on, let’s go.”
Michaela was taken aback at her friend’s obvious hurry to leave. “Where are we going?” she said, not moving towards the in-house conveyance.
“The Royal Council meeting. Clajak is announcing me being his clan’s Matara to everyone.”
“Including the head councilman who is the father of the woman they were supposed to clan,” Michaela said.
“The very one.”
Michaela was reluctant to naysay Jessica. However, she remembered how relieved Korkla had been that the newest royal was being kept out of today’s proceedings. “That’s going to be dramatic,” she said.