Deep Indigo

by Cathryn Cade

  He lowered himself, her scent rising about him, warm and heady. Woman overlaid with delicate perfume and the healthy glow of exercise. Burying his face in her throat, he breathed deeply and opened his mouth to taste her, sliding his hands under her back to pull her up against him. Pliant in his grasp, she shivered with delicious reaction, her hand cupping the nape of his neck, the other sliding up over his back.

  He raked his open mouth down over the silken plain of her breast to one nipple and drew it into his mouth, hard, suckling firmly, reveling in the texture and the way she cried out softly, clutching him more tightly. Oh, yes, she enjoyed that even more when he shifted to the other. But only briefly, for he’d a more luscious target in mind. One he’d been waiting to taste.

  Her belly was a delight, a curving plain of satin with a tiny indentation. It quivered under his mouth. Below it waited the hill of her mons, beckoning him to the sweetest crevasse in the galaxy. Moist and heady with the scent of her arousal, feathered with the lightest of down, opening to the touch of his fingers with trembling eagerness, even as her hands clutched nervously at his shoulders.

  “Daron?” Nelah’s voice rose uncertainly as he stroked his fingertips into the moist mauve folds of her labia. “What are you…oh!” she squeaked as he bent his head to her and tasted—finally—of her female essence.

  She was quivering and tender under his mouth, sleek and delicate under his tongue. He thrust it into her as deep as he could and then licked up to her clitoris. Her cries turned to joy and as he swirled his tongue around the swollen knot of nerves she came undone. He felt her first orgasm take her.

  Her response only made him want more. Drunk on her scent and taste, he wanted to go on and on. He thrust two of his fingers inside her to enjoy the feel of her pussy clenching rhythmically around them. He curled them slightly, pressing hard against the nerves he knew were there and renewed his tender attack on her clitoris. This time she cried out with deliciously ascending levels of shock, until finally she screamed his name.

  He levered himself up over her and kissed her, deeply, letting her taste her own essence on his tongue. She slid her arms up around him and kissed him back with an abandon that incited him even further.

  “Will you take me in your mouth?” he asked her, lifting his head just enough to look down into her sleepy eyes. She blinked, then put out her tongue to touch the corner of her mouth in an innocent gesture that made his penis stiffen with unbearable eagerness.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “If you show me.”

  He threw back his head to take a steadying breath as the vision of those petal soft lips encircling his rigid penis drove him a little mad.

  “Later,” he groaned. “I cannot wait a nanosecond longer.” Reaching between them, he guided his quivering cock into the silken folds of her labia, tensed his buttocks and thrust into tight, hot heaven.

  He was lost in pleasure, in the dark waves of heat that pounded in his veins, driving into her with a force he knew dimly was perhaps ungentlemanly, but he could not have stopped if the Orion blew apart around him. The music throbbed around him as he thrust in rhythmic joy.

  He came so hard he reared up in her arms, arched like a bow for one endless, ecstatic moment. Then he hung on his elbows, trembling, until she gently urged him down into her arms. He relaxed into her silky embrace and felt her touch his hair as he fell fathoms deep into sleep.

  Out in the corridor, Izard gone, the remaining two Serpentian guards paced slowly on their rounds. They looked at each other, a new interest smoldering in both their golden eyes. As they neared a supply closet, the male reached out and deftly opened the hatch. Then he looked down at his female companion.

  “I’ll wager I can have you screaming my name in a nanosecond,” he said, flicking his forked tongue at her.

  The slender female narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re on.”

  “Oh, I will be,” he promised as he followed her into the closet.

  In the lido lounge, Panthar looked down at the woman in his arms. Damn, he was so horny he almost felt as if his mating moons were in ascendance, although he knew that wouldn’t happen for weeks. And the woman in his arms was no Tyger-kitten, just a bored Earth II tourist. Still, she was gorgeous, even if her beauty was surgically enhanced.

  He pulled her closer as they danced, reveling in the feel of her breasts against his chest, her legs tangling with his. She gave him a slow smile, her eyes heavy.

  “Why don’t we finish this dance in my stateroom?” she murmured. “I’ve always wanted to ride a Tyger.”

  “Mrrrow,” he snarled cheerfully and swept her from the dance floor, his powerful arm tight around her waist.

  Nelah lay holding Navos as he slept. Her toes curling with embarrassed delight, she smiled to herself in the shadows. So that was what it was like to be kissed there. A man’s mouth was truly a delightful love instrument. And when he used his fingers, too…heaven.

  Like a siren of old she’d used her wiles to call this powerful man, and it had worked. She hadn’t bargained for the force she’d called up. The blue fire in his hooded eyes had made it clear she’d summoned a titan and must deal with him. He’d taken her hard and fast, slamming into her tender body. It had frightened her a little. And she’d loved every second of it, knowing she was the one who had taken him to the edge of control.

  Weighted into the bed by his hard male heat, sticky and sore, still embarrassed by the intimacy of what he’d done to her, female triumph curled up the corners of her mouth even as her eyes slipped shut.

  She woke to the astonishing sensation of a hot, silken shaft gently nudging at her lips. She breathed in the musky scent of their shared passion and his maleness. Her eyes fluttered open to find him lying beside her in the bed, her head nearly in his lap. The room was in deep shadow, only a shaft of lamplight falling over them, limning their bare bodies in gold.

  He stroked the head of his penis over her lips again, this time urging her mouth open.

  “I’m ready to show you how to reciprocate,” he murmured.

  Her body and mind woke with a thrill of sheer arousal. Without a word, she opened her mouth and took the broad head of his penis between her parted lips. She felt like a concubine being wakened to pleasure her master.

  “Let me inside your mind, as well.” There was a dark edge to his command. He’d had time to consider her actions. She felt indeed like a concubine, at the mercy of a master with a will much stronger than hers. Well, she’d called him and she wanted him, no matter the consequences.

  With a sigh she surrendered, letting him invade her thoughts, her sensations, even as he thrust himself deeper into her mouth. Let him feel her nervousness at wishing to divine his mood, to placate him. Let him feel how delicious it was to pleasure him as he guided, his strong hands in her hair, showing her how to lean over and take him, first as deep as she could, then sucking firmly as she let him slide back out again.

  “Do I please you, Commander?” He was all demanding male, a little frightening in his urgency, but when he withdrew she wanted him back, wanted more. The sheets were silky under her bare skin, his thighs hard and hot under her palms.

  “Oh, yes. You’ll please me even more if you put your clever hand here.” He guided her fingers to stroke the two tight sacs of his scrotum and then to probe deep between his taut buttocks. She discovered when she stroked the tiny opening there he sucked in a deep breath, jerking in her mouth.

  “Gently, just inside.” Ah, he liked that even more, his hands tightening in her hair, urging her to take him with quick movements of her head. “Nelah…so good, little flower.”

  “I want to taste your passion.” She was embarrassed at her daring, but she was his concubine. She would do whatever her commander desired. At this notion, her pussy gave an answering throb of excitement.

  “Oh, you shall,” he promised. He groaned deeply and then went rigid in her grasp even as he began to pulse into her mouth. Shocked, yet delighted, she swallowed until he withdrew sharply.
Fluid spurted hot and silky onto her throat and breasts.

  Nelah thought a little wildly that a sophisticated woman would know what to do, but she did not, so she lay very still. Warmth trickled slowly down her chest. She licked her lips, tasting the musky saltiness of his come.

  The man beside her gave a deep sigh and stirred languidly.

  “Mm-m. Thank you, little flower. That was very satisfying.” He stroked his fingertips through her hair.

  “I’m not your little flower.”

  “Ah, but a concubine has such a title, didn’t you know?”

  His warm hand stroked down over her throat, slid over the curve of her breast, slippery with his come, drawing the wetness down her abdomen. She caught her breath, taken aback at his nonchalance.

  “This…is normal love-play?”

  “Oh, yes. Quite usual.” He was teasing her again, she was sure of it. But as his wet fingertips reached her mons and he delved between her thighs to cup her warmly, intimately in his palm, she stopped caring. Heat surged up through her at the possessiveness of his grasp. It said more clearly than any words that he was laying claim to what he held.

  He did something wicked and clever with his fingers and she gasped, the soft sound loud in the quiet shadows.

  “Yes. Tell me of your pleasure. Open your lovely petals only for me and bloom in the darkness.”

  “Daron!” His poetic words combined with the shocking intimacy of having taken him in her mouth, of wearing his male essence like a brand on her skin sent pleasure imploding through her pussy. She clutched at his hard thigh, digging her nails into him as she arched her back, opening herself for more of his touch.

  “You’re going to come for me, aren’t you?”

  “Yes—yes! Commander!”

  She came around his fingers, crying out her pleasure to him and the night.

  He waited only until she’d relaxed and then swept her up in his arms and bore her into the spacious shower-dry. Nelah leaned against him, letting his powerful arm hold her up as the hot water jets pulsed to life around them. She was disoriented, dazed. She’d called up a storm and she was in the center of it.

  She summoned enough energy to take a handful of the soft gel soap, but she was fascinated with watching him wash himself, the water and soap coursing down his long, powerful frame. She traced a stream of bubbles dreamily with her fingertips as it coursed into the hollow of his flank. He was slick and hard under her fingertips.

  He took another handful of the soap and began to wash her as well.

  “Wilting, little flower?” he asked, an edge to his voice.

  She blinked up at him through the water and blushed under the dark intensity of his gaze. He was angry with her. She’d called this intensely proud man to her and he’d come—to the edge of control. Her stomach clenched as she realized what she must do.

  “I’m sorry,” she said into the hush as the water stopped. “I know it was wrong of me to…to call you to me, when you carry such responsibility here on your ship.”

  Nelah quailed before the look in his eyes, stepping back against the cerametal of the shower-dry stall. He grasped her shoulders, holding her before him.

  “You must never do such a thing again,” he grated. “Another man, with less control than I, might have raped you. Do you understand?”

  She shook her head, denial in every fiber of her being. “I wouldn’t call another man that way.” Her cheeks burned as she realized she’d nearly admitted her love for him. Again.

  She was saved by the sudden rush of warm air that began to blow. Turning her back to him, Nelah busied herself combing her fingers through her hair. She could feel him behind her as clearly as if he still held her.

  “You may think so now,” he said quietly over the whoosh of air. “But one day that will change.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Navos reached around Nelah, opening the shower-dry hatch and she stepped out, moving aside. He walked out into the other room, the lights brightening at his passage. She followed him, watching as he walked over to pick up his clothing from the floor. Nelah’s eyes widened at the splendid view of his lean ass. She watched, fascinated as he turned back toward her. His penis was still a formidable sight, even lying relaxed against his scrotum. And she wished she’d had time to explore the tiny indentation of his navel and the ridged plain of his abdomen.

  Belatedly she realized he was standing still, holding his clothing in one hand and letting her look her fill of him. She lifted her chin, refusing to acknowledge the hot blush that flooded her face as she held out her hand for her clothing. She realized with a rush of heat that now, whenever she looked at him, the acts in which they had just engaged would always be there, between them like a secret current.

  “I should…go to my own stateroom,” she said.

  He picked up her gown, but instead of handing it to her, he stepped forward.

  “Oh, no. You and I aren’t finished talking.”

  “Aren’t we?” she said with a flash of spirit, grasping at the trailing silk of the gown. “Perhaps I haven’t time to chat.”

  He used her grip on the silk to tug her toward him. “You have time. And so do I.” He looked down into her eyes, his face implacable. “Nelah, you have stronger powers than I at first realized. Too strong to use without care.”

  She flushed, her cheeks burning. “I told you I received top marks in my class.”

  “Yes, I remember,” he said. “But without proper control, you’re as dangerous as a loose laser-cannon.”

  Stung by this accusation, she fired back. “You speak as if I go about using my power on every man I meet. But I haven’t, only with you. And I’ve done nothing you haven’t! You called me to the arboretum—”

  He placed one finger firmly across her lips. “Nelah. Allow me to finish. I’ve altered my decision. I will train you.”

  Her heart skipped a beat and then began to race. She searched his gaze, hardly able to believe what she heard. “Do you mean it?”

  “Yes. I mean it.”

  “Oh, thank you. Thank you, thank you…” Throwing her arms around his neck, she pressed exuberant kisses over his chin, his throat. Then, leaning against him, she closed her eyes and smiled against his skin. “May we begin now?”

  But instead of holding her, Navos put his hands on her shoulders and set her away from him. A chill ran through her, for he looked every inch the commander, not a man with whom to trifle.

  “Nelah, listen to me. I’ll work you with more rigor than you have ever worked before. Don’t expect any quarter because of our sexual relations, because I promise you, you won’t receive it.”

  Stung by his assumption she wanted or needed such treatment, Nelah tugged her gown from his hands, covering her nakedness. Pride lifted her chin again and stiffened her spine.

  “Don’t worry, Commander,” she said. “You…obviously know I—I have feelings for you, but as you say, I’m inexperienced. I’m sure with your help, I can learn to feel no emotion toward you. Then all will be as you wish.”

  His eyes narrowed like blue lasers. Good—let him be angry. Let him be cruel to her, if that was what it took for her foolish heart to harden. It must, or she very much feared he would crush it. Not because he meant to. No, he was too honorable for that. But because the mighty commander seemed to have no room in his makeup for love.

  Navos found himself squeezing his fists as Nelah turned her back on him with a jerk and began to tug at her gown. Augh! He wanted to grab her and shake her until she rattled. How dare she rail at him for insisting, just as he should, that their passion could not be allowed to influence any work they did? Trust a woman not to see the two must never become entangled.

  He forced himself to relax. Damned if he would be tied into knots by a slip of a girl who was only trying out her fledgling powers. She believed herself in love with him, but that would pass. He knew it was normal for infatuation to follow losing one’s virginity.

  A surge of amusement tempered his anger, twi
tching up the corners of his lips. His temptress was having difficulty with her gown. The delicate fabric had evidently become tangled. She jerked at it with increasing agitation.

  He pulled on his pants and fastened them and then enjoyed the show. She had pretty legs and an extremely fine bottom, round like two halves of a perfect pear. The rest of her was slender and delicate, especially the nape of her neck, so tender, just feathered by dark silky tendrils of hair. Her curls were nearly dancing now with her swift, agitated movements.

  “Having trouble?” he asked.

  She turned on him with flashing eyes. “You know perfectly well I am. And don’t you dare laugh at me.”

  Turning her back on him again, she bent to her task with even more force, muttering furiously as she shook the tangled fabric. He allowed himself one last moment of enjoyment and then stepped over to pull the gown from her hands. Following the deepest drape, he quickly found the hidden fastening and twitched it open. He held it out to her with ironic courtesy.

  “Your gown.”

  She lifted her head as regally as a queen. “Thank you.”

  He bowed, then watched with regret as her nudity disappeared in ice blue silk. She grabbed her little bag, stomped into her slippers and headed for his door.

  “Nelah,” he said, as she reached for the button to slide open the hatch. “Be in my office at 0700 hours.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  He sighed.

  As the hatch slid shut behind her, he stood for a moment, sensing her passage along the corridor toward the passenger quarters. The little minx—she wouldn’t get the better of him again. He meant to demonstrate very thoroughly the responsibilities that came with wielding psychic power.

  She’d used her powers recklessly tonight and caused him to behave completely out of character, with lewd behavior and language in public. Chagrin burned his cheeks at the memory. Seven hells, he’d begun to undress in the passageway, before not only his crew, but passengers!